Expat Journal

new column by Coach for Expat

II inaugurate today this blog column with an important word: inclusion. A keyword that will return and will be present in my articles.

I was born in the Marche region but never lived there. I visited my hometown for the first time as an adult: a seaside town with a long beach dotted with palm trees. I have lived in many different cities, and even though it was small, I knew that friends would be travel companions for only a short time. I didn't develop a sense of attachment to any home or place. My family didn't even encourage me to create a bond with their land of origin. When asked, "Where are you from?" I never knew what to answer. It became easier abroad because I only need to point to Italy, a broader and more recognizable territory.

One of the questions an expat often hears, after "Where are you from?" is "How long will you stay?" And I discovered that this uncertainty is a reason why many people choose not to make friends. "I don't want to invest time and energy in a relationship that might end." Yet, many relationships can end for various reasons.

The language barrier, this apparent instability, coming from a different culture, the baggage each of us carries, becomes entry passes into the new society we live in. If you try to find an image related to inclusion, the results will be circles enclosing something, images of groups of people from different communities or people with disabilities.

Inclusion is about being part of a group and concerns the condition of those who are normally excluded because they do not meet those standards and rules.

Riccarda Zezza writes that it is the "normalization of something external." Reading this sentence awakened me. The image is powerful: inclusion seems to open up a space, but it remains enclosed within a boundary. And it suggests two fundamental aspects: the first is that the space is limited, the second is that those who are already in that space are not subject to all the adjustments of those coming from the outside.

They already have the pass by default.

I wonder: have you ever felt like you are outside of a circle? What strategies have you adopted to adapt while remaining yourself?

Inclusion, for me, is more of a feeling: I feel secure, I feel part of it, I feel seen, I feel I can be who I am, I can participate, be there. But if the circle is small and to enter I have to leave parts of myself outside, will I still feel secure, seen, and authentic? Inclusion should allow people to bring their differences and peculiarities into an environment with its rules and habits.

The resounding question is: if someone inside that circle made all the efforts that someone outside does, would they be able to enter? Would their pass still be valid?