From the Editor's Desk

By Volker Thomas

Remember my running mate "Mozart" (whoops, what I slip during this exciting election season), I mean my Black Lab running companion who spends every morning with me chasing my physical and emotional balance and health? A week or so ago Mozart started barking whenever he sees George W. Bush or Al Gore on TV. No kidding, he really does, and I swear I have not trained him to do that. Maybe it is our early morning runs that give him the wisdom to evaluate our political leaders. When you continuously run by smashed squirrels, bloated raccoons, curled up little dead snakes (sorry for being so graphic), all victims of human civilization, killed by the most sacred idol of this consumer society, the car, you become wiser every day about the business of politics - even as a dog. Well, I'm finding myself becoming cynical again, thinking about politics. I should get excited. I finally became a US citizen this spring after 18 years as a "citizen alien" (what an encouraging term to have a permanent visa - you want to become a "real" citizen, just to get rid off the "alien" status). This makes me eligible to vote for the first time in this country. Yet, to be honest I am not excited about becoming a U.S. citizen (being one will take even longer) and about voting for several reasons.

I came to this country 18 years ago on a Fulbright scholarship. I met my wife, Edie, and "got stuck" in this country, as I became used to phrasing it. We have been married now for 17 years, we have two wonderful children, and yet frequently I do not know what IT is. What is my cultural identity, where am I "at home"? Edie and I thought we took care of IT when we asked a friend to sing the Tom Paxton song, "Home is Anywhere You are", at our wedding. We knew we would always live far away from at least one of our families. So it made sense to create our internal home and carry it along within us to where ever we would live. That's worked quite well for us, but it has not deconstructed my need for a cultural identity that is grounded in some tangible things such as a house and a place that I can call home. Maybe that's why I keep running around every morning with Mozart, because I am still looking for that place I can call home (like Dorothy had in Kansas). Although I believe there is some truth to this, my cultural reality is much more complex. I grew from German soil (I could have never used that term in Germany as a child because of the Holocaust) and I am still rooted in it. Germany is my "Vaterland" (fatherland) and German is my "Muttersprache" (mother tongue). My kids are at an age in which they are more proficient in English than I am. When the German language creeps up in me and I say funny things, they lovingly correct me gently assuring me that my English is far better than Oma's and Opa's (their grandparents) English. They put a mirror in front of my face and what I see is a German with gray hair and a gray beard who is still looking for a home. I enjoy going back home to Germany (which I do at least once or twice a year), but after a few days I feel the urge to go home. Then I realize that I have two homes, the home of the past that keeps me connected to my family of origin and the deep roots of thousands of years of cultural evolution (I grew in the area where the Brothers Grimm collected the fairy tails from women like my paternal grandmother). And I have a home of the present (and most recent past) that keeps me connected to my current family and the culture my wife and kids represent.

What does this have to do with me becoming a US citizen and my lack of excitement about the upcoming elections (despite the attempts of INS officials to convince me otherwise - that becoming a US citizen is the best thing that ever happened to me)? Well, the dominant culture of this country has an overwhelming tendency to dichotomize. Things are either black or white, good or bad, etc., etc. Since the INS (Immigration and Naturalization Services) is a representative of the dominant culture, they dichotomize as well. Not only do they try to convince you that the USA is the best country in the world (implying that your home country is not as good), they also assume that every person entering this country does so for the sole purpose of wanting to become a naturalized citizen of the US (as if we were un-natural where we came from). For most of the time I was just fine living in the US as a German having a home here and there. Then I found out the an add on to the 1996 so called Health Care Reform Act made me (as a then resident alien) subject to deportation for things I may have done before I came to this country and thus separating me from my wife and children (this very thing is actually happening to hundreds of people as you read this). Thus, I felt forced by the cultural dichotomy to apply for US citizenship. The end result of the humiliating process of naturalization was to give up the allegiance to my home country. From now on I can only have one home and split off my deep connections to Germany symbolized by seizing my German citizenship. Why can't I keep my two homes, here and there? It's worked just fine for me for almost 20 years? I wondered. Why can't they respect my German roots? Why do they want me to cut them off? Why do I have to participate in the process of disconnection through dichotomizing? I am BOTH German AND U.S. American, NOT either German OR U.S. American. That's why I am not excited about becoming a US citizen. I did it to protect my family, in my heart I am still German AND U.S. American. And that's why I am not excited about the upcoming election. Participating in it means to me to support a system that demands disconnection from my roots and a large part of my identity.

As family therapists we are committed to foster connection and fight dichotomizing practices. That was so powerfully demonstrated during the Annual Meeting in many sessions. That's why a feel at home in AFTA. I can look at processes that lead to dichotomizing practices within myself and between others and myself and engage in the healing process of reconnecting, acknowledging my roots and those of others. Building a multicultural community through open dialogue attracts me more than being forced into an allegiance of a mono-cultural majority. I envision this multicultural community as my home of the future in which I would like to grow old with Edie and our children. And Mozart won't bark at the people who are part of this community.