An American traveling in a Shifting World

I’ve never been someone who aligns fully with either political party. I’ve never liked being labeled or boxed in - whether it’s politics, spirituality, or life in general. What I try to live by is a personal toolkit of kindness, compassion, empathy, and love. I’m a work in progress, of course, but I do my best to ensure that both my beliefs and my actions reflect those values.

What I believe politically doesn’t feel political to me at all - it feels human. But I recognize that in today’s climate, those beliefs are seen as extreme by one side. So, here’s what I stand for: I believe everyone should have access to excellent health care. I believe education should be available to all, regardless of financial background. I believe that money should not determine the volume of your voice in a democracy. I believe everyone deserves a fair, living wage - so that we can all have dignity not only in our work, but also in our retirement. I believe that your race, ethnicity, religion or beliefs, how you identify, or who you love should never be an issue in this life. I believe in a society that is fair, equitable, and compassionate - one that works for everyone, not just the privileged few.

What saddens me deeply is that these very basic, humane beliefs now place me in opposition to one of our country’s political parties. And that’s why I’m speaking up. Because what we’re witnessing only a few months into this administration is not democracy. If you have even a modest understanding of history, you’ll recognize that this is how fascism and authoritarianism take root.

It’s cruel. It’s reckless. And it’s hurting people - both in the U.S. and around the world.

Carla and I have been asked more than once by friends and family what it feels like to be in Europe as an American right now, especially as tensions between the U.S. and its European allies continue to rise. From the inflammatory rhetoric coming out of the administration to the unnecessary tariffs placed on long-standing partners, there’s a growing sense of unease - and it’s impossible to ignore.

We’re doing fine personally, and most people don’t immediately realize we’re American until we speak. But as we move through towns and cities, read local and international news, and overhear conversations in cafés and on trains, we can feel the shift. The U.S. is no longer seen as a trusted global leader. The shine is gone.

As for how we've been treated personally here in Europe, we've experienced nothing but kindness and warmth - no hostility at all. That said, there’s an unmistakable change in the air. When we enter a shop or strike up a conversation and mention we're from the U.S., there’s sometimes a moment of hesitation - a subtle wariness - until people get a sense of where we stand on the current administration. Many aren’t shy about sharing their feelings, and the comments about the President are often blunt and harsh.

Europeans are, generally speaking, incredibly informed - often more so than many Americans when it comes to global affairs. They look at the United States now and see something troubling: a posture of arrogance, detachment, and betrayal, dressed up as “American exceptionalism.” Over here, it doesn’t look like strength. It looks like abandonment.

There’s a growing sense of disappointment and betrayal - from the tariffs to the dismissive language, to the troubling signs of sympathy toward authoritarianism in Russia. Some Europeans no longer see the U.S. as a reliable partner. In fact, a few are beginning to imagine a world where America becomes a potential adversary. That’s how far things have shifted.

To their credit, most Europeans do understand the difference between a government and its people. We’ve met many kind, thoughtful individuals who have welcomed us warmly. But even that grace has limits.

They know that nearly half of American voters supported this administration. And those votes weren’t cast blindly - the tone, the policies, and the intentions were all laid out quite clearly. So, when Americans travel abroad, Europeans know full well that many of them voted for leaders who now actively undermine their interests and security.

And despite the myths being spun back home, tariffs don’t generate revenue. They strain alliances and hurt everyday working people - on both sides of the Atlantic. People here understand that. They see it for what it is: unnecessary, harmful, and deeply disappointing.

And yes, they are paying attention. While their frustration isn’t aimed at individuals like Carla and me, there’s an unmistakable rise in quiet, simmering anti-American sentiment - not personal, but directed at what America, time and again, appears to be choosing.

Add to that the stories circulating here about the treatment of immigrants, refugees, and international visitors to the U.S. - from hostile encounters and visa complications to actual deportations - and you begin to understand why so many Europeans now hesitate to visit. The fear is real, and the sadness is deep.

This isn’t hyperbole. This is the current reality. People are watching - and they’re watching with heartbreak.

As for Carla and me, we do our best to represent the America we still believe in. We show up with kindness, curiosity, humility, and open hearts. We see ourselves as citizens of the world, carrying a deep sense of responsibility to be better ambassadors than those who currently hold office. How we treat people, how we show up, how we honor and respect the culture we’re in - that’s the legacy we hope to leave behind.

It’s hard to say this, but I feel I must: I’m embarrassed to be an American right now. I don’t recognize the anger, arrogance, and cruelty being projected onto the world in our name. It doesn’t reflect the country I believe in, or the one I want to be part of.

More and more, Carla and I are convinced that our home is here, in Europe. No, it’s not perfect - but the values we encounter here, the spirit of cooperation, the focus on dignity and shared humanity, feel much more aligned with who we are and how we want to live.

Do I have hope for change? I lean toward optimism by nature. But as long as the current players remain in place, I can’t honestly say I’m hopeful. I fear we haven’t hit bottom yet.

And let me be clear: I’m not trying to discourage anyone from traveling abroad - quite the opposite. I encourage it. Especially now. But I do believe we need to be aware of the political and emotional climate we’re stepping into.

I’ve read articles claiming that Americans will always be welcomed because of the money we bring. I find that view deeply insulting. As if a few tourist dollars can somehow overshadow the harm being done or the hate being spread. That’s not how respect works.

Europe has lived through fascism. It wasn’t that long ago. They recognize the signs, and what they see brewing in the U.S. is troubling to them. And no amount of spending will erase that.

Right now, in the eyes of the world, there is nothing exceptional about the United States. And that’s not a posture we should carry with us when we travel. The only place that deserves to be called exceptional is the one we’re fortunate enough to be visiting.

So, wherever your travels take you, go with humility and gratitude. Embrace the local culture. Lead with kindness. And be the kind of ambassador we all wish was representing us on the world stage right now.