Some weeks don’t arrive with one big headline.
They come as a collection of smaller moments. Things that seem ordinary while they’re happening, then linger afterward. A conversation here. A surprise there. Something familiar appearing in an unexpected place.
That was this week for me.
Not dramatic. Not life-changing.
Just quietly revealing what it actually feels like to live in America as an Australian.
The School Night That Brought Australia to Tennessee
Recently, Georgia and I took part in her school’s very first international night.
Around fifteen countries were represented. Booths from places like Uzbekistan, Samoa, Guatemala, India… and there we were for Australia.
It felt a little surreal standing in a Tennessee school gym representing home.
What We Brought to the Australian Booth
We tried to keep it properly Australian:
- Sausage rolls
- Vegemite sandwiches
- Fairy bread
- Tim Tams
- Violet Crumble
Amazon has a great assortment of Aussie items these days in the US:
Each child had a small passport and moved from country to country collecting stamps.
It was a simple idea, but a brilliant one.
They were learning about the world without it feeling like learning.
That’s usually when education works best.
Tim Tams Were the Stars of the Night
The hall started off quiet.
Then, almost without warning, it filled up.
Families everywhere. Kids racing around with passports. Parents chatting. Music and movement in every direction.
We ran out of food halfway through, which I took as a fairly strong sign we’d done alright.
And yes — the Tim Tams disappeared at alarming speed.
I may need to contact Arnott’s next year regarding sponsorship opportunities.
- Violet Crumbles also did very well!
Talking About Australia in the Middle of Tennessee
What I enjoyed most wasn’t the food.
It was simply standing there and talking about Australia.
Some people had visited.
Many wanted to go.
Some wanted to discuss cricket.
And that always catches me off guard a bit.
You don’t expect to be having a cricket conversation in Tennessee.
Yet there I was.
That’s one of the lovely things about living overseas — home appears in strange places.
The Unexpected Samoan Moment
At one point I ended up speaking some Samoan with the neighbouring booth.
That took me back instantly to the years I lived there.
Funny how language works like that.
You can go years without using something… then suddenly it returns as if it had only been waiting quietly in the corner.
They were so excited they called their father over because there was “this guy here” who had lived there and could speak the language.
For a moment, Tennessee disappeared.
I was somewhere else entirely.
Identity Carries Weight
Our booth sat next to Belgium.
The couple running it weren’t actually Belgian.
She was from Belarus, but with everything happening in the world, she didn’t feel comfortable representing that nationality publicly right now.
So they chose Belgium.
That stayed with me.
Because where you’re from can carry more emotional weight than people realise. Sometimes pride. Sometimes pain. Even complexity.
Identity isn’t always simple.
Bluey, Bingo and Vegemite Reactions
Georgia disappeared quickly once her friends arrived, which felt extremely on-brand for a child whose father was left doing passport duties for hundreds of children.
We also had Bluey and Bingo there.
That may have been the most popular part of the entire booth.
And surprisingly, plenty of people liked the Vegemite.
Though not everyone.
There were still a few faces that suggested immediate regret, followed by a quiet search for the nearest bin.
What It Felt Like
I walked away thinking how much I enjoyed representing Australia.
Not just missing it.
Not just talking about it.
But sharing it.
There’s something grounding about that when you live overseas.
Georgia’s Sleepover and a New Normal
Not long after that, Georgia had a sleepover.
There was:
- an American girl
- a Polish girl
- a Spanish girl
- and our Aussie girl
All just hanging out together as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Because to them, it is.
No labels. No special meaning.
Just friends.
When I was growing up in Australia, you noticed where people were from more. Not negatively — it was simply more visible.
For this generation, diversity often isn’t something they comment on.
They’re just growing up inside it.
And there’s something genuinely beautiful about that.
Easter in America Still Feels Different
Another reminder of cultural difference came through Easter.
Back home in Australia, Easter often feels like the country collectively slows down.
Good Friday. Easter Monday. Shops closed. A pause in rhythm.
Here in America, much of life keeps moving.
Banks open. Businesses open. Things rolling on.
For a place where faith can be very visible publicly, that contrast still feels interesting to me.
Sometimes what stands out most in another country is what doesn’t happen.
The Ice-in-Drinks Theory
A podcast listener messaged me after I mentioned how much ice Americans use in drinks.
They said:
“It’s basically a scam.”
And once that idea enters your mind, it’s hard to ignore.
You take a few sips. Look down.
And realise you’re mostly holding frozen optimism.
The America You See vs The America You Live
People back home sometimes ask how we can live here.
Because the America shown in the news can feel intense, loud and relentless.
But day-to-day life is mostly school runs, groceries, dance classes, errands, dinner, routines.
Normal life.
That’s probably the hardest thing to explain from a distance.
Not that difficult things never happen.
Just that everyday life rarely looks like headlines.
Final Thought
Living overseas has taught me that countries are never fully understood through headlines, stereotypes, or internet arguments.
They’re understood through ordinary moments.
School nights. Snack tables. Children laughing. Unexpected conversations. Shared routines.
Quiet things.
And often, those quiet things mean the most.
Related Reads
Why Are Americans So Polite? An Australian Explains the Cultural Difference
Why American Goodbyes Feel Faster Than Australian Goodbyes
Thanks for reading. Hoo roo maties.
