the france-uruguay match at an irish pub, molly's fair city, with GL and a german seismologist working in napoli.
among my small tribe, many sides to be chosen: do i wistfully wrap myself in a french flag or proudly proclaim my love with an obama tshirt or go with the tried-and-true, italian style?
what constitutes loyalty when it comes to questions of nationality or identity? is it the life we have been given through parents and their geography or is it the love we have chosen that decides which side of the stadium we sit? is it their blood or is it our heart? if national borders can be redrawn, created or destroyed through wars and backroom treaties, i believe we should drag our passports and our pens across those man-made scars delineating our countries, recognizing that there is something deeper than those borders, something that they don't want us to find out, something stronger to connect to in each other if only we stopped being distracted by all the pretty colors on all the little banners.