ICH BIN EIN LONDONER

How embedded are you in your heritage? Were you simply born somewhere that you no longer live? Do you still speak the language of that society?
If I am to use the definition of culture to mean the society from which I originate, my roots, ancestry, heritage then is that more or less what defines me as an adult? Or is it my choice of residence – the place, town, city where I choose to live and work and pursue my hobbies – my ‘cultural’ activities – art, literature, films.
My ancestry is Persian/ Scandinavian yet I choose to live and work in London UK in the medium of film - which in itself is the universal, commercial machine that began in Hollywood USA. Am I an amalgam of that? Or simply one disconnected from my genetic past?

The new American President is one of this new breed of identifiers – no longer identifying with his parents’ heritage and ancestry and religion. His father is Kenyan, his mother from Wichita, Kansas, of European descent. He is now simply identified as ‘American’.
American culture is relatively new – relative to the rest of the world in that the United States is a nation that is only a couple of hundred years old. Young in the scheme of things. I have lived in houses older than America. Despite its youth, American identity seems to be very apparent. Stand on any street corner in any city in the world and look at the tourists. I bet that you could easily spot the Americans. They could be of Irish or Scandinavian or African descent, no matter. You can spot them. They are distinct.
How quickly that nation defined for itself what to be American was. Perhaps because that identity is still so young that it undergoes regular scrutiny and redefinition. George Bush made it clear to the world what being Un-American was. Perhaps their new President will be the harbinger of a more positive definition: one of inclusion and responsibility; one of basic moral and ethical foundations that are forged not in ones religion or past but on ones choices in life and responsibility for what goes on in your name.
In my opinion America is still, despite recent history, the most coveted ‘culture’. It was built by immigrants from everywhere who still kept close to their language and rituals yet described themselves as Americans. ‘Melting pot’ is the term most often used to describe American society. A welcoming, inclusive society that champions hard work and ambition and allows you to overcome the weight of your past. After all, anyone born in America can become President. The same cannot be said of anywhere else to my knowledge. Isn’t that the best definition of culture? One in which you can assimilate all that you are – genetically, historically, and reinvent yourself as what you choose to be.

I have great admiration for this ‘chosen’ culture. I envy those who feel they have some form of identity, a sense of nationality, a passion for a place that supports an ideal that speaks to the very core of you. I never had such feelings.

What happened on London on 7 July 2005 changed all that. The series of coordinated bomb blasts that hit London's public transport system during the morning rush hour were carried out by British Islamists and were motivated by Britain's involvement in the Iraq War and other conflicts. I thought I had lost my sister that day. She was on London transport, only a couple of stops away from one of the trains that was bombed. After the blasts the cell-phone network was shut down and I presumed she was on that train and had died. I will never forget those two hours the rest of my life.
As the following days settled, a new form of consciousness enveloped London. Our mayor, Ken Livingstone, summed it up best when he stated, quite simply, that “We are one. We are London”. I felt a pride and a strength like never before to an intangible ‘place’. This is what defines me. This is my culture. I am a Londoner.