When I first walked into the airport lounge today (en route Sydney for a few days of work stuff) the planes were arranged such that the big American jet was in the foreground and the Air NZ was behind.

But by the time I finished breakfast and took the picture, things had shifted… a Kiwi jet had moved into the front spot.

Our NZ citizenship ceremony is scheduled for the end of this month, and there’s a new war on, so I’m thinking a lot about how big things labeled “American” fit into the foreground and background of life.

I’ll never escape being an American no matter how many passports I end up with (two will be plenty I suspect). And actually I’m not trying to escape my American’ness … America has given me a lot of great things and still does. But as I look back on my life so far, I am very grateful to have some psychic distance from my birth country. I hope things get better there (by my definition of better, whatever that means exactly).