Chasing the American Dream: Leaving America
"Last call for our nonstop flight to Sydney." I looked around at the vacant seats at gate 152 of Terminal B at Los Angeles International Airport. This is America's busiest airport on the West Coast, but I felt alone. Until then, I always equated travelling with excitement and adventure. This time, however, was different.
For the first time in my life, I was boarding with a one-way ticket, a fact made even more unsettling by the internal turmoil of wanting to stay while ready to leave. I took one last glance around me, to soak in familiarity. It was 9pm, but Starbucks was still buzzing with overworked suits tapping away at their laptops. I scanned my boarding pass as the gate shut behind me, sealing my fate as another American expat.
In doing so, I was about to become one of the more than 3 million Americans living abroad. All have their different motivations for leaving; mine was to pursue a chance at love. But I was also driven by curiosity to understand what life would be like outside the US.
"The American dream, that dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement (Adams, 1931)."
James Truslow Adams popularised the American dream amid the Great Depression. It inspired millions of Americans amidst the worst economic downturn in American history. For many, it was a dream of material prosperity, the house with the white picket fence and the sports car, but Adam's dream was of a collective moral character.
"... It is not a dream of motor cars and high wages merely, but a dream of social order in which each man and each woman shall be able to attain to the fullest stature of which they are innately capable, and be recognised by others for what they are, regardless of the fortuitous circumstances of birth or position (Adams, 1931)."
Almost a century later, Adam's American dream now seems more of a dream than ever. Children hide under school desks from shooters, women continue to fight for their reproductive rights, people of colour avoid law enforcement out of fear, and people die of curable diseases due to excessive medical bills. For some, the American Dream now involves leaving America behind. Forgoing the white picket fence for a chance of stability.
The number of Americans choosing to move abroad has surged by more than 1.2 million people in the past 30 years, as the United Nations estimates. While the initial motivation to move overseas varies, American expats agree on appreciating the distance from their home country, providing clarity and a global perspective.
Being prepared to shed part of your cultural identity to be open to another takes bravery. The fact they spoke a sort of English in Australia would soften the shock, but the wrench from the familiar to the brand new is always frightening.
Six years have passed since I boarded that one-way flight while the conflicting feelings about my American identity have grown. This is a familiar feeling among American expats, I am relieved to learn.
To further grasp the questioning of my cultural identity, I spoke with four American expats in Australia, each in different stages of their migrant journey. A once proud American mother to three denounced American citizens, a Texan couple in search of liberal paradise, and an optimistic Millennial who grapples with the decision to move home. While the plots differ, their stories paint a similar picture. Integration into Australian society has reshaped their beliefs of the American dream. These are the stories of intrepid expats, courageous enough to leave and chase their own dreams.
Darlene
The once proud American
When the then 38-year-old Northeastern native Darlene decided to move to Adelaide in 1986, it took 56 hours to fly from her home in Washington, DC. It was a carefully considered decision before she uprooted her well-established career with her two young daughters to chase love with an Australian.
Darlene had been to Australia once before but had never imagined herself as an immigrant of the exotic land. With a bachelor's degree from Penn State and almost twenty years of human resource management under her belt, Darlene expected to pick up where she left off. She quickly learned it wouldn't be that easy. Her long list of polished qualifications and shiny career achievements were meaningless to employers in the sleepy town of Adelaide. Her established two-decade-long career had been erased; her resume was now a blank piece of paper.
It was a difficult identity adjustment for Darlene. She struggled to secure a job with her international credentials and was forced to make financial sacrifices to afford her daughters' schooling. Yet she remained resilient.
"I was shopping at Kmart, so going from Saks 5th Ave and valet parking at the grocery store at Giant in Washington to moving here and having to box up my own groceries, you know, it was just a huge adjustment."
Acclimating to the cultural differences during a time when a 3-minute phone call home cost upwards of $75 was testing. Darelene needed a local support system. Her husband's strict Catholic family lived in Perth and were not overly welcoming to Darlene and her daughters. It was challenging for Darelene to find her tribe of empathetic people abroad until she discovered a group of American expats living in Adelaide.
"There was an American Australian group in Adelaide… we all went there and complained. So all of us were having a hard time."
Moving to Australia was also a major cultural adjustment for Darlene's daughters. Darlene vividly remembers their first Halloween in Australia. Her daughters were sent home early with school letters addressing the school's opposition to celebrating "pagan holidays". Neighbours slammed doors in her children's faces when trick or treating while teachers scolded them harshly for American spelling.
For me, imagining an Australian society non-accepting of American culture is shocking. Darlene appreciates modern communication's impact on Australian society's evolution to integrate American culture. She no longer relies on a 3-week-old newspaper mailed from her uncle in the States to stay on top of American news. From American political influence to adopting holidays such as Halloween, Australia now seems to embrace Americanisation, as Peter Henning notes in the article The Americanisation of Australian political culture.
Despite the strong local opposition towards her American identity in the late 80s, Darlene maintained her patriotism. She flew an American flag during the Gulf War and continued celebrating American traditions, reminders of home.
"I felt very American. We would wear T-shirts with the American flag on it. And the kids, I'd buy Ralph Laurens with the American flag. So yeah, I missed it."
As years passed, Darlene and her family started to assimilate to their life down under. She had a child with her Australian husband, and they moved home to Brisbane in 1992. She found her tribe amongst other expats. As Darlene discovered her new Australian identity, she began questioning her American identity, which she clung so tightly to when she first moved. Distance and time gave Darlene perspective on her homeland, and she now recognised the benefits of life in Australia.
"I think it's safer and easier for the kids. Washington was very competitive… and then moving to Adelaide. Nothing. So all the excitement sort of went out of that life as well by moving here."
Darlene reduced their family's yearly visits to the States and started to identify solely as Australian. Her children denounced their American citizenship. Their identities no longer aligned with American identities, and the tax burden became too cumbersome for a country that offers limited support to its citizens abroad. Darlene continues to hold her American citizenship. She has not stepped onto American soil in eight years but diligently pays her yearly taxes.
"I think the big thing is, I resent still having to pay taxes to the US forever until I die…I do resent that because I don't get any benefits. I don't get Social Security or anything out of the US. Nothing."
A country that fought for its independence on the belief of “no taxation without representation” continues to tax its citizens overseas without representation. Go figure.
Despite no longer identifying as American, Darlene will remain a citizen. She has not exercised her right to vote since the 2000 presidential election but has watched the 2024 election news "nonstop". I ask Darelene if she continues to feel her American patriotism and she quickly responds no, she has retired from her pursuit of the American dream.
Braxton & Megan
The couple in search of liberal paradise
The first time the 6-foot-9 Texan native Braxton (Brax) came to Australia was the Easter weekend of 1997. The American Navy aircraft carrier he was stationed on docked at Garden Island, a stone's throw from Kings Cross, Sydney's once notorious red light district but now a gentrified entertainment and residential zone. It was that weekend when then 21-year-old Brax discovered his admiration for the country's vibrant culture. Shortly after, he met an Australian woman, and they settled down in Western Sydney. During that time, Western Sydney felt and sounded like the rugged Australian countryside.
Being a Lone Star State native in Windsor, NSW, was like being a fish out of water. Locals met Brax's American nationality with curiosity and derogatory terms. It didn't faze Brax; he knew his booming presence stuck out like a sore thumb in the country town. Not long after the September 11 attacks occurred and Brax was recalled back to the US to serve. But he loved his time living in Australia, holding onto the dream of returning.
Ten years after leaving Australia, Brax met Megan outside a law classroom at Texas A&M. For two and a half years, Brax pursued Megan until she finally agreed to give him a chance. They graduated and shortly after tied the knot. It was then Brax asked his newly wedded wife to take another chance on moving their life to Australia for a yearlong cybersecurity degree. She agreed, and in early 2017, they made the voyage across the Pacific.
For Megan, the move was a considerable change coming from a small Texan town near the border of Mexico. She had never been to Australia but was optimistic about their year-long stint abroad. Brax had other plans, though.
"I never intended on going back to the US. I knew she would fall in love with it, and she did within, like a month or two."
They both loved life in Australia. The culture shock was minor for Megan; Australian vocabulary and the lack of 24/7 shopping options were subtle cultural differences. Yet Megan adapted to these cultural quirks. Brax quickly slipped back into his familiar expat lifestyle while appreciating the modernisation of Australian society.
Though their families weren't unsupportive of their decision to move abroad, backhanded remarks painted a clear picture of opinions and reluctance to understand the couple's decision.
"You would get comments like, ‘This is the best country, so why move to another? There's no country better.’"
Three years after the couple moved abroad, the COVID-19 pandemic rapidly shut down the Australian borders. The Australian COVID lockdowns were gruelling for everyone but a test of cultural identity for expats. During this time, expats who left Australia risked being locked out of the country and losing a pathway to citizenship. Like many, Megan and Brax made a difficult decision to stay put. They were not ready to let their chance of a permanent home in Australia disappear. Their decision to endure the harsh Australian lockdown restrictions was met with little sympathy from back home.
Brax and Megan quickly discovered their support system in Sydney, making close friends with other expats and Australians. They enjoyed Sydney's healthier, relaxed working style and cultural diversity. They fully embraced Australian culture, bringing Aussie phrases such as “cheers” home as evidence. They continued celebrating American holidays, blending new and old traditions into their lives.
After seven years abroad, Megan continues to have periodic onsets of homesickness; visiting home is both a financial and time consuming investment. The gravity of missing family milestones never gets easier with time or distance. Living abroad has strengthened Brax and Megan's connection, so much so that Brax only feels homesick when Megan is away. Australia may be their physical home, but they have found a sense of home within each other.
Despite growing up in Texas, Brax has never felt an overwhelming sense of personal patriotism.
"I was patriotic because I grew up in Texas and was forced fed liberty and freedom, like a North Korean school child. And so yeah, I was patriotic."
Living abroad has only reinforced Megan's questioning of American society, giving her a lived perspective of how other societies efficiently function.
"Being here has just solidified that there are other ways and different ways that also do work for society and that's not the only system of government that's best."
Though the couple is frequently stereotyped, they make light of every wrongly presumed assumption. They've heard it all, from the belief that they are avid Trump supporters to the questioning of their absent Southern drawl.
"When we moved here in 2017, we were in Bondi Beach, just in the middle of the day. People heard our accents, and they asked us, ‘What do you think of Trump?’"
Brax pauses to laugh, likely imagining a MAGA supporter lying on Bondi Beach. Megan proceeds to mention the numerous sidewalk conversations she has skilfully dodged about her American political stance.
Megan appreciates that Australian healthcare is more receptive to women's health. Doctors are not quick to dismiss women about their symptoms or seek husband approval. Brax chimes in, noting his observation of a wider representation of genders within assumed gendered positions such as construction work and teaching. When I ask Brax and Megan if they ever dream of returning home, they quickly shake their heads no, "This is our home now." While they rattle off other countries they are keen to do abroad stints in; their home base is now Australia.
Chris
The optimistic patriot
The Millennial South Carolina native never imagined that when he chose a two-year master's program abroad, six years later, he would be calling Australia home. Looking to gain an international perspective, Chris went on a limb, studying counterterrorism and cybersecurity in a foreign country over 15,500 kms from home.
"I didn't know much about Australia, but I knew I was going."
Little did he know that less than two years later, a global pandemic would draw out his study abroad stint.
"I was supposed to be in and out in about two years, and then COVID hit. So I made the decision to stay in Australia without going home during COVID for almost three years."
Chris had tasted the sweetness of life in Australia and was not ready to let it go. Three years went by before he could visit his family due to the border lockdowns. It was challenging then, but Chris wears enduring the Australian lockdowns as a badge of honour. He took the misfortune of a global pandemic and turned it into an opportunity to finish his degree and start his career in Sydney. Chris describes himself as headstrong, whereas the adjective resilient comes to mind when he shares his initial experiences abroad during a global pandemic.
As I struggled with homesickness during the pandemic, Chris flourished. He missed the Deep South but was never genuinely homesick; Australian culture and Mateship were his remedies. Chris recalls his first experience of Mateship during the pandemic. Despite differing opinions, Australians pushed up their sleeves and got the jab to get the country up and running. Witnessing a country coming together, regardless of personal beliefs, to obtain a mutually beneficial outcome gave Chris hope for his home country.
He believes Americans abroad play a pivotal role in shaping other's opinions of the US. “Not the news or the media but the loud, blunt American in the pub." This idea has made Chris more conscious of how he presents himself. Leading by example, Chris strives to break brash American stereotypes. It's as if his years of upbringing in a home of polite Southern manners were grooming him to be a stellar example of American people abroad.
Chris admires the camaraderie of Australians and his life down under but still proudly identifies as American. In fact, he feels an even prouder sense of American identity since moving abroad.
"I feel more American. I'm proud to say American. That's the type of American I am."
While living on the other side of the Pacific Ocean has distanced some expats from their American identity, Chris feels a greater sense of patriotism. Acknowledging that US society has significant obstacles to overcome in universal healthcare, policing practices and work culture, Chris still believes in the American dream and the democracy that so many, myself included, seem to question. His open willingness to embrace American patriotism reminds one of a time when the country was less polarised. Regardless of ideologies or backgrounds, Americans could always put their differences aside and celebrate Americanism together. We were all united in achieving the same dream, a better country for all Americans.
Chris chooses to favour the good comments about his American background over the bad. He recollects a memory with an older Australian woman in Sydney shortly before the 2020 presidential election. The woman instantly picked up on his distinctly American accent while he was bartending, acknowledging the flak Americans receive.
"I love Americans!" She said and proceeded to give Chris a big embrace.
She was five years old the first time she met an American, she told Chris. Her father was a Sydney police officer during WWII. It was a warm Christmas Day, and her father brought home American soldiers docked in the harbour to feed them a home-cooked meal. Vividly, she recalled the kindness of the soldiers and the Hershey's chocolate bars they gave the neighbourhood kids. To this day, the woman buys the American chocolate bar every Christmas, reliving the warmth of the experience.
Chris is still visibly moved by this interaction four years later as his face softens while retelling the story. This experience reinforced Chris's belief that the US is yet a great country; true American values demonstrated by previous generations can be reestablished with support.
With plans to move back to the US to pursue his career aspirations in government, Chris intends to return to improve the lives of his fellow Americans. Pulling from his experiences in Australia, active engagement in the community and supporting local businesses, he believes these contributions could lead to positive developments in his home country. Fighting to keep the American Dream alive for himself and his country.
The differing American expat journeys of Darelene, Brax, Megan and Chris interweave similar themes of adaptation, resilience and a sense of belonging. Each chose to leave behind the familiarity of the known to understand the unknown. Life abroad has reshaped their American identities, offering new global perspectives on societal challenges with a more inclusive and critical sense of patriotism. As Americans navigate societal changes and future uncertainties at home, American expat reflections are a testament to embracing the uncomfortable of the unknown.
Speaking with Darelene, Brax, Megan and Chris has not only brought clarity to the growth of my American identity, but also a sense of connection. I feel a renewed pride in embracing my American heritage, a part of me I used to hide. These shared experiences have propelled my thinking, harnessing global experiences to bring about positive change in our home country.
As American expats, we may adopt new cultural identities, but our core will always be American. We chase our dreams elsewhere but maintain hope about our country's future. We may sometimes feel disorientated in our American identity until we rediscover the meaning. Adam's American dream of a collective moral character is alive, even in the Americans furthest from home; it's whether we collectively choose to believe in it.
“…America is essentially a dream, a dream yet unfulfilled.”
My sincerest thanks to Darlene, Braxton, Megan and Chris for generously sharing your stories with me. Your reflections and sensitivity have been invaluable in making this piece possible.
Sources
Adams, James Truslow 1931, ‘The Epic of America’, Transaction Publishers.
King Jr., Martin Luther 1963, ‘I Have a Dream’, March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, Lincoln Memorial, Washington DC.
Migration Policy Institute 2020, ‘Immigrant and Emigrant Populations by Country of Origin and Destination’, Migration Policy Institute Data Hub, retrieved from <https://www.migrationpolicy.org/programs/data-hub/charts/immigrant-and-emigrant-populations-country-origin-and-destination>.
Henning, Peter 2019, ‘The Americanisation of Australian political culture’, Independent Australia, retrieved from <https://independentaustralia.net/politics/politics-display/the-americanisation-of-australian-political-culture>.
Eaglin, Maya 2024, ‘Beset with ‘doomism,’ some Gen Z children of immigrants are giving up on the American dream’, NBC News, retrieved from <https://www.nbcnews.com/news/asian-america/gen-z-children-immigrants-doomism-leaving-usa-rcna160885>.
Schiller, Nina Glick 2005, ‘Long-Distance Nationalism’, Encyclopedia of Diasporas, pp.570–580, retrieved from < https://doi.org/10.1007/978-0-387-29904-4_59>.