I have a confession to make. I have an American superiority complex. I’ve had it all these years, I just didn’t know it. Most of us have one, I’m afraid. The complex doesn’t reveal itself until you get away from America and out of the country. My little complex was diagnosed last July when I hopped on a plane headed for South Africa. I recognized the symptoms right away-acute aggravation resulting from the words “Americans are overbearing” that spewed forth from the mouth of a guy from the Ukraine the very day I arrived in Africa. This was followed by an overwhelming urge to defend my countrymen (and myself).I had discovered a certain inescapable truth: Americans are not well-loved overseas. You may ask how this could be true. After all, we make great movies and music, we invented blue jeans and rock-and-roll, and, as a fellow complex sufferer put it, “if it wasn’t for us, everyone would be speaking German.” This friend, we shall call him Tom, is a classic example of what happens to an American when he leaves the friendly confines. Tom came to South Africa last July (where we both studied via exchange programs) more or less oblivious about the world around him. The whole world is America, right? He’d never given much thought to the idea that there are other countries out there that matter to us. England, for example, hasn’t mattered much to us since that little war several hundred years ago when we told them to go colonize someplace else. So then people started pointing out how ignorant Tom was, and embarrassment about his stupidity suppressed the complex for a time. Tom spent his first month in Africa avoiding his nationality, explaining away his accent by claiming he was Canadian. He tried to avoid conversations about America, but ultimately determined that foreigners are obsessed with dissing us. They put down our intelligence (poor education system), our morals (too many kids shooting other kids) and our obsession with sports (’nuff said).The cycle moved along once Tom decided he’d taken too many low-blows from all those misinformed Europeans and began to proclaim his belief in American supremacy. Tom defended right and left. He became so impassioned with the cause that, had Hitler been American, he would have defended him too. And he was good. And those foreigners knew it and it drove them crazy.Most of the critics based their “facts” on what they have seen on television and film. They claimed resentment based on what they called “forcing your culture down our throats”, while they wore Tommy jeans and enjoyed listening to Britney Spears. And the most ironic part of all, they had never touched U.S. soil.I won’t go so far as to claim that we get this reputation purely as a result of those jealous of our dominance in political, economic and cultural fields (though that’s an option that’s been considered by certain complex sufferers). Besides the tendency of our government to involve itself in the affairs of others, individual Americans have done their part to feed the stereotype by publicly exposing their ignorance when abroad. And they love to see you fall on your face.So when you find yourself beyond the borders of the Home of the Brave, remember you’re representing us all. Don’t ask a shopkeeper in Paris why nobody speaks English. Don’t tell a Londoner he’s got a “jolly good” country. And avoid speaking of McDonald’s with any kind of reverence (even though it may remind you of home). You’ll make us all look like idiots.But since they’re going to think you’re obnoxious anyway, you might at well play the role and have fun with it. When all else fails, just say, “It’s O.K., I’m American.” I hear that works pretty good.
Jessica Hartzfeld is a senior journalism major from Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio.