So where are you from?

Five little words that turn me from an articulate professional -- and believe me I can babble with the best of them -- to a stammering idiot. "So where are you from?" is always the question that comes up with new acquaintances here in Europe, no matter their nationality.

Why is it such a hard question? Because I'm not sure how to answer it.

I was born in Maryland; does that mean I'm from Maryland? My parents and I moved when I was five, so I only have very vague memories of my friends and our home. While I've visited Baltimore a couple times since then, I don't consider myself a Maryland native.

We lived in Oregon for about 5 years, then I spent my teenage years in Reno. Does that mean I'm a Nevadan? Well, no, not in my opinion. It's been 17 years since I was there. I spent 10 years at Michigan State University doing 3 degrees, but I can't see myself as a Michigander, either. My parents moved to upstate New York while I was in undergrad, and now live about 60 miles from where my mother lived until she was 18. I think she would consider herself a New Yorker, but I don't see myself as one. I lived with them for a few years while I finished off my dissertation, but I'm not a New Yorker.

I lived in Rhode Island for about 18 months, but I'm definitely not from there! It was a great place, and I really enjoyed it, but I'm not a Yankee at heart. Then I moved to North Carolina, but only for 6 months. I didn't even finish unpacking! Although I loved North Carolina and made lots of friends both at work and outside of it, I'm not from there.

I cherish the semi-nomadic lifestyle I seem to have had, even if it keeps me from defining where I'm from. For one thing, I've lived in more parts of the US than a lot of my friends and colleagues even in the States have ever seen. I've gotten used to moving, used to the disruption to routines, to the need to find new doctors and dentists and veterinarians, new routes to wherever, new stores, and everything else that goes with it. Not to say I look forward to it, but I know what it's all about.

And I think it has made my integration into Europe much easier. I was startled when my boss in North Carolina suggested I might do a short expatriation in France, but not afraid. OK, well, I wasn't afraid until my mother drove me to the airport and dropped me off, facing a flight to New York JFK and then one to Nice. Then the fear started! But really, what's one more move? It was just a little bit farther than most and there was that little issue of the language barrier, that was all.

But where am I from? Language and dialect are perhaps one of the things that define our identity the most, but with me it's hard to pin down. Casual observers continually hear me speaking French, German, or even English, and unless they are native English speakers they decide that I must be from the UK. I met a very nice couple from Tasmania once who, on hearing me speak English, thought I must have been born in France. After my first six weeks in Michigan for university, I had people convinced I was from the UP, eh. Although I never picked up the Yankee whatever, a short time in North Carolina had me speaking like the locals.

Even though my passport says "United States of America", sometimes I have to wonder if I'm really American any more. Not to go into politics too far, but now that I have lived here in Europe for nearly six years, I find myself going more and more in a different direction than that in which my birth country is going. Maybe it's a temporary thing, maybe not, but it certainly won't be obvious which of those is true for a long time. Once something as large as the US starts going in a certain direction, it's hard to turn it around quickly. But am I a European?

So, where are you from?