American at a Distance

There is nothing quite like living abroad to make me feel American. Every part of what that means is thrown into sharp contrast, whereas when living at home, the type of American that I am is what matters. In fact, from a distance, it seems almost laughable that people argue domestically about who is and is not a Real American, tm. 

Something that does not even approach laughable: the sheer number of mornings I've woken here, in sleepy Stockholm, to news of another shooting. The question of whether it's actually been more frequent over the past year or whether it's finally gained a certain status in the national discourse is one for another time. There are certainly incidents that happened prior to March 2011--Virginia Tech comes to mind, as does Tuscon. But this past year brought Newtown. And it finally looked like we were about to have some movement on this peculiarly American issue.

But I guess not. I am fiercely proud of Gabby Giffords and her husband on this one. Her editorial in today's New York Times was the one bright spot in reading the news this morning--bright because even though Congress has clearly caved in the face of the NRA (the NRA?!? Seriously?? How did we get here?!?), she won't stop talking, as difficult as talking is for her these days. I am proud of my own senators from California. I am pleased that my president is speaking out on this one.

And that's about it. Everyone else in Congress, I've had it. I've absolutely had it. You make it so that I think twice about coming home.