That whole, "well, you're American..."  (or anything; insert what you will) thing...it's not clever, in fact, but profoundly reductive and arrogant, predicated on the fact that you, the individual evoking this explanation for whatever I've just said, indeed possess the upper hand, that I must be, obviously, deeply conflicted, apologetic, even. So much so that your rapid assessment buys my silence. Neat, though intellectually lazy (and you pride yourself on your intellect), it's you who's defined by borders, not I.

Occasionally a prose poem is required. This was one of those occasions. Long live the mezinárodní  člověk, kdekoli on(a) se narodil.