A semester abroad; an incredible and eye-opening experience for me. Yes, it was everything that people have said it would be and more. Going to Europe, I had no idea what to expect. I would be adulting for four months of my life, 6 hours ahead of my parents, and going into this journey not knowing a single person. My mind was focused on how I was going to balance getting all A’s, traveling to different cities and countries, making friends, and adjusting to a new society that uses a language in which I am not fluent. I guess one could say I was overwhelmed.
Within the first few days of my arrival in Italy, I was able to relax a bit and enjoy the blessed opportunity. Overall, I had the time of my life. I have stories upon stories that I would be able to tell you, with the majority of them being positive. With that being said, I find that the few negative experiences I had are, sadly, still memorable. Soon I'll share my adventures, tips, and tricks I learned after studying abroad, but for today I plan on expressing a few of the experiences that I had that would not have happened if I wasn’t tan abroad.
One day I entered a Tabacchi shop (corner store) looking to purchase a stamp. I had to learn how to say, “May I buy a two-dollar stamp please?” in Italian. I walked over to the counter, asked the store owner for a stamp, and waited for him to look for one. As simple as the transaction could have been, he decided to add some light-hearted discrimination and judgment in there (we love that). The next thing the cashier asks me, with a smirk on his face, is, “Where is the letter going? Africa?”, followed by a quick, bray laugh. My friend and I looked at each other in shock. I smiled- mouth closed- the way one smiles when they see someone they already said hi to and they don’t want to say hi to again. I had no words to respond with. I entered the Tabacchi shop excited to mail out my first international letter and left feeling disappointed in one of my motherlands. First off, my accent was already a dead giveaway that I was American. Secondly, everyone in Prato knows there are American university students residing in the town. What he said was meant as a jab. His aim was to get under my skin and make me feel uncomfortable or make me want to leave his home country. Sometimes I think about what occurred that day and wonder if he would have made that comment if he had looked past my skin color or the way my hair curled and conversed enough with me to know that we both had Italian blood running through our veins.
On that same day, I decided to go out with friends to a local pub that had really good reviews from students that studied in Prato the previous semester. Since I was in Europe, and it was legal to drink at 19, I decided to have a good ‘ole fashion beer with some newly acquired friends. A few hours went by, and we found ourselves belly laughing and discussing our mutual failures when it comes to attempting to speak Italian. It was getting late, so my friends and I were on our way out. That’s when I saw it. A confederate flag hanging above the bar. My eyes widened a little and I looked down at the bartender who smiled my way. Feeling a mixture of disbelief, confusion, and worry, I smiled back and walked out of the door. Coming to Prato, I knew that people of color would not be seen around as much as Caucasian people, but I was not expecting to see, what I view as, a symbol of racism proudly hung on the wall.
I was upset, at first, about what I had seen, feeling slightly uncomfortable in my host-city for the second time that day, but quickly that feeling faded. The flag I had seen in Europe did not exhume the same feelings I would feel when I saw a confederate flag in America. I wondered why that was. Why did I feel more unwelcome in my own home than I did in a place I had just arrived? This question resonated with me.
Maybe it is the reason behind the flags used. Maybe the incident that happened earlier had an effect on my perception of the flag. Maybe in Europe, the flag represents the southern delicacies of America. Maybe in America, there are still human beings who wave that flag both proudly and actively for the wrong reasons. Maybe I’ll never know the answer to that question, but what I do know is that when I looked at that flag in Italy, I knew that it was not up to make me feel less than or unsafe. I ended up going back to the bar, being served by friendly staff and having fun with my friends the way a 19-year-old student should.
I felt many emotions reading this and I totally pictured myself jumping over the counter and getting the guy in a sleeper hold when you bought that stamp. But by the grace of God we are able to surrender ignorance of this world to Him. You did an amazing job with your response and not allowing these experiences to steal your joy! Another great post Jayla !
I love how you didn’t allow the words and actions of another person affect your character. You remained true to yourself and still had an outstanding study-abroad experience. This totally ended on a positive note. PS. 21 is around the corner:)
You are an incredibly poised young woman and I am extremely impressed with how you handle yourself in these situations. Although it’s tough to read, I thank you for sharing your experiences. As the parent of a mixed child, it’s important to me to have some insight into some of the situations he might face. I appreciate you.