Thinking about patriotism today on Americas birthday.
Living here has made me think about it in a way I never really did growing up in Sweden.
If Sweden whispers, “We’re proud to be Swedish,” America says it with a microphone. Sometimes I joke that Americans want to make sure you never forget what country you’re in and all those flags certainly help.
The funny thing is, I don’t think Swedes are any less proud of their country.
We just seem to show it differently.
I’ve often wondered if part of the reason is that loud national pride can feel uncomfortable. There seems to be a quiet awareness that celebrating “us” too loudly can start to sound like excluding “them.”
You see it when Sweden plays in the World Cup or the Olympics. Suddenly the blue and yellow flags appear, everyone is glued to the TV, and strangers celebrate together.
One thing I’ve noticed over the years is that many Swedes seem to become even more patriotic after moving abroad.
When you grow up in Sweden, Midsummer, Lucia, crayfish parties, cinnamon buns, and those long summer nights when the sun barely sets and you’re complaining because you need blackout curtains just to sleep, are simply everyday life.
You don’t think much about them because they’ve always been there.
Then you move away.
Suddenly you’re explaining Lucia to your American friends. You’re driving across town to find Swedish candy. You get excited when you hear someone speaking Swedish in the grocery store. You celebrate Swedish traditions with a handful of other Swedes, trying to recreate a little piece of home.
Even IKEA becomes more than a furniture store, and H&M becomes more than a clothing store. They become little pieces of home.
It’s interesting how distance can make you appreciate things you once took for granted.
Maybe that’s one of the unexpected gifts of living abroad you don’t just discover a new country, you rediscover your own. 🇸🇪
Brain clear 