I would join in, and suddenly, we had this connection. It was like I was German, in some sense, even if my passport said otherwise.
Although this experience of feeling “German” was especially strong over the past few weeks, it wasn't entirely new. At the language cafe in Mainz, where I've been practicing my French, I've had people assume I was German (usually other non-Germans, but a few times Germans as well). This is mostly because, when I don't know a word in French, I automatically resort to the German word, not the English one. Of course, if I speak German for a prolonged period in front of a German group, my American accent is still strong enough that most of them can guess my nationality, but that guess is less automatic than it used to be.
I feel a certain sadness about the fact that I will be leaving Germany at the end of June. In some sense, it feels like I'll be leaving a part of myself, of my identity, behind. I've committed to teaching in New York City public schools for the next two years with the program Teach For America, and while I'm excited about teaching and spending more time with my American friends, I'm questioning if it will feel like my home in the same way it did. It might seem crazy to think I'm somehow more German than American. After all, I spent the first 22 years of my life in America, and I haven't even spent an entire year in Germany yet. Whatever my new identity is, I know I'll have to return to Germany sometime soon (hopefully for a Ph.D. program). It's too big a part of me to give up.
It has been great getting to know your class and sharing my journey with you.
