American Girl (dn)

(I'm sort of writing a column about Worcester for the DN. The blog posts that have dn in the title mean that it was written for the column. However I would like to note that this is prior to copyediting.)

It's the first day of classes here at the University of Worcester and I'm already off to a bad start. I somehow lost the package of poems I was given to read before class today. Unfortunately I am still the procrastinator as I am back in the states and didn't discover this until last night. On the bright side though, class isn't until 1pm, or 13.00 as it says on my schedule, giving me time to either find a new copy or borrow someone else's. Regardless I feel slightly ashamed that I might have to confess to a professor that I already lost my first assignment. So much for giving the British a positive impression.

I didn't think coming over here first impressions would bother me, or that being American would be as big as a deal as I feel it is. But with everyday that I'm here I feel this incessant pressure to impress the people of this country that I'm coming to know and love. Which isn't exactly an easy task. Aside from the accent that gives it all away, it’s the way I dress, how I act, even just walking down the street. Every time I go to cross a street I have to consciously think about how I'm going to do it. I have to look right instead of left for traffic before making my way out to the medium. I get confused when I see a car waiting to turn right, and I have to remember what side of the street they'll be turning on. I feel like just standing on the corner, my head twisting from left to right to look at traffic, must give it all away.

But if it's not by my clear look of confusion when walking down the street, then it must certainly be how I dress. At home, strolling around in jeans and t-shirt is an acceptable outfit. Here it's a bit different. I've found from my trips in town that most girls will wear dresses or skirts of brilliant colors. They accessorize and match from head to toe. Fashion seems to be huge and it's not just on the posters that you find in clothing stores, it's everywhere you look around this city. With the clothes that I packed I can successfully pull off fooling the British about twice a week. But with my variety of jeans and t-shirts, I'm back to looking American.

If there's one thing I can't avoid though, it's the way I talk. While I'm picking up on the British accent and I know a few of their sayings, inevitably when I open my mouth I sound like your typical Midwestern girl. I would try to pull off a British accent when talking to the people here but I'm afraid it will come off either insulting or incredibly fake. Besides, I kind of like my accent. It's the one thing that I enjoy that makes me different.

I guess when it's all said and done, as much as I try to blend in with these people and this culture, at the end of the day I am still American. I drink coffee instead of tea in the morning, I own more jeans than dresses, and until the day I leave I will still probably be hesitant to cross the street. There's no use in trying to become more British because I am too stuck in my American ways; I can't change where I come from or who I am. I just hope the British accept me, and maybe, just maybe, I can impress them.