It’s time to confront one of the structural tensions in my life.
Now, at age 46, I’ve lived about as long in the United States as I have in the Netherlands, the country where I was born and raised. At this halfway point, I find myself just hours away from having to watch the World Cup 2022 showdown between the US and the Dutch this coming Saturday.
Already my friends and family have been harassing me with the question of what team I will root for. Relentlessly, they insist I pick a side.
I’m not ready.
On the one hand, I cherish my Dutch upbringing. The countless bike rides, swimming in the canals, cutting class, eating black licorice, kaas, and the annoyingly outspoken nature of my friends and family have left a deep impression on me. Locked in between three economic and cultural superpowers—the UK, Germany, and France—the Netherlands is nothing if not aware of how small it is. And from that position, it likes to call things out. For all its shortcomings, blindspots, and checkered cultu…
