A new way of seeing

Sometimes when you look back, you look way way back. As a child traveling between the USA and Mexico, two places I considered home, I always thought that the USA was the best. I recall, during one of my summer breaks in Mexico, practicing reading in Spanish by looking at the help wanted ads. Per my memory, one ad stated: ‘Seeking a young female receptionist, between the ages of 25-35, attractive, and must speak English’. I knew, even at eight years old, the lack of rights for women that ad had bluntly stated. USA was a better country. I had more freedom. The food was safer, thanks to the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) which protected us against toxic additives. You could drink the water straight from the tap.  And, of course, with hard work you could reach the American dream. No matter what that dream may be.

Now I know better, thanks to the opportunity of having lived abroad. I thought that traveling and visiting other countries was enough, but it only scratches the surface of understanding where you come from. When you travel, it is about experiencing a new culture, but it is all a comparison to you. Your view of the city, your take on their customs, how it relates to your world. When you move to another country, you start off with the comparisons, but with time you assimilate. You live in a new world, and slowly it becomes your world. A new reality. At least until the time comes that you must go home. Coming home. Upon coming home, you now see your previously comfortable world from the eyes of an outsider, and it can be jarring.

“When you travel, it is about experiencing a new culture, but it is all a comparison to you. Your view of the city, your take on their customs, how it relates to your world. When you move to another country, you start off with the comparisons, but with time you assimilate. You live in a new world, and slowly it becomes your world. A new reality”

A new reality

In my previous reality, I believed the USA food industry to be safe. But after living in England, I am aware of the additives that are banned in the United Kingdom but allowed in the USA. Including, for example, potassium bromate, added to bread here to make it more “structurally sound,” and known to cause cancer. Or food coloring, yellow dye #5 or red dye #40, both shown to have an ill effect on children, and added to our food to make orange juice look orange. Oreos, Ritz crackers, or coffee creamers taste better in the USA, and it is due to hydrogenated oils which are banned overseas. These trans fats are detrimental to our health, contributing to cardiovascular disease and diabetes. Now I find myself reading nutritional labels prior to any food purchase. 

Money comes and goes, as we all know, and it is a necessity of life. But the dramatic increase in the USA shocked us. Groceries cost us double, even though our basics have not changed country to country. I recently read that “Mayonnaise prices have surged 43% over the past three years, according to global research firm NIQ.” Our property taxes have dramatically increased, but the potholes that line our street have only deepened. This year alone, car insurance increased by 60%. Meanwhile, in England, diapers, formula, and female hygiene products are 1/3 of the cost and not locked behind a cabinet at the store. All necessities of life, however here it feels like a luxury item.  

And to top it off, it is not just the cost of living; it is also the cost of health care. Our health insurance is $600 a month in addition to $8300 out of pocket deductions. The pressure to make sure we have money set aside for healthcare in case of an emergency adds additional anxiety, which I manage with health supplements averaging $200 a month. Whilst in England, all these costs had vanished. You may correct me, that we did pay through our taxes, however I pay more taxes now at home than in England. However, I still have the additional cost of healthcare.

Anxiety you say, yes!

The first month we arrived home, I was scared to run in the evenings due to Kia Boyz. A local gang which made the video game Grand Theft Auto a reality in our neighborhoods. A bystander was shot by a stray bullet on his way to the store. The same store I frequent. Thankfully, they have been caught since then, but a year later, and I am still overwhelmed by the lack of safety and constantly being vigilant of my surroundings. It is the price I will pay to be back home. 

Home

Knowing the roads to travel to avoid midday traffic. Not getting caught up in language barrier, even though we both spoke English. Friends who hold my stories close to their hearts. Going to the same beautiful beach on a hot summer day that Alvin grew up going to. The unspeakable beauty of the Pacific Northwest. Knowing where I am now.

Home. To host weekly family dinners or call family over when we cook too much or just miss them. To have Alvin giggle when the grand pups come for a visit. We have our home again to hang family photos, paint the kitchen a bright yellow without asking for permission, and purchase things meant to last a lifetime and not just three years. Our house which holds our memories, not things but moments; walking in as newlyweds, Alvin’s first steps, and the hard work Gary has put into the house.

Looking Ahead

Now I am working towards a future. Being home, I can think far, far ahead.  

I am back working at the local children’s hospital, in the emergency department, with a focus on caring for children that arrive in a mental/behavioral health crisis. Whilst in England, I became accustom to not using physical restraints, the act of tying down limbs to a bed. Coming back into a culture which, at times, feels like this is the first choice if a patient becomes combative, has been a sucker punch to my core beliefs. But if it were not from my three years in England, I would not have known better. In England, I was able to see and practice in a world where restraints were rarely used, showed me that it can be done differently.

One year later and that experience is embedded in me, I have only needed to resort to physical restraints once. I hope to continue the streak. I believe it is poor care to place a child in restraints, especially when there are other tools available. And I will continue to advocate for these children, they need to be heard. The future? I want to bring forth the ideas, practices and norms that made for a healthy society in England.  

The differences I did not see before, but now I do

The business of healthcare, how it echoes through your TV with the multitude of pharmaceutical commercials. The sweetness of your morning yogurt, which feeds into the American obesity crisis and diabetes diagnosis. All of which are a welcome burden to the economics of healthcare.  

The looks people give to one another as we stroll the streets. The judgement, rather than the support, in the glares directed towards the helpless. The separation between the haves and have-nots. A year ago, upon my return, all of this brought tears to my eyes. I wondered how I was involved in this world, yet so unaware. Now I see my privilege and I try to use it as a superpower for change. 

I realized coming home I would have to fight for what I believed. Fight even when I was tired, hopeless, or overwhelmed. I now know what it is to live in a country that has healthcare as human right, safety of the citizens, and provides healthy food regulations to nourish its people. England is not perfect, but it did show me we can do better. 

After my first year living in England, I compared England to someone you fall in love with but can’t marry because you have a different future planned. I know England and I were never meant to be, but my time there shook me to the core. Funny enough, I also met someone who had different future plans—he didn’t want kids, and I did, I wanted to live abroad while he was happy staying home. Despite these differences, we fell in love and got married. Fourteen years later, I’m grateful for him. So maybe England and I can find a way to make it work, too.

Living abroad has shaped the world I see. My world, my home, is no longer from one lens, it is layered. A year later and I am slowly able to see those layers, creating a new plane, a new view of my home. I am striving to create that vision not just for myself or my family, but those who surround us. Our home, our community. Because when it comes down to it, at the end of the day it is not the amount in your bank account, or the places you have seen or the food you have shared. It is the people sitting right next you. The people, or that person, to share that meal with. The connection.