Why People Don’t Lose Their Shit in Cities Like Valencia
When daily life happens in public, people behave differently.
At some point, the public sphere became the airport.
When I lived in the United States, I remember regularly telling my wife about things I saw during the day—someone screaming at a store employee, a driver losing their mind in traffic, a confrontation in a line somewhere.
But when I try to recall one specific incident now, I can’t.
And that’s part of the point.
None of those moments were memorable. They were normal.
Now, we just sit back at the gate and barely look up from our phones when a disgruntled traveler is expressing a beef with the gate agent.
Since living in Valencia, I almost never see the public displays of bad behavior that have become trademark of America—or of one very specific country in North America.
When I watch them in a viral video—whether it’s another “Karen” (do we say that anymore?), a brawl breaking out in a discount store (or at an airport gate!), road rage, or the latest shooting—I almost forget that the source of dysfunction is the country where I was born and that I called home for 49 years, 5 months, and 15 days.
Since living in Valencia, I almost never see that kind of behavior.
In 1 year, 3 months, and 6 days.
This is not to say Americans are bad people. I mean, I’m American. My entire family is—though my Dad was born in Canada.
But it is to say that Americans live inside a system that breeds stress and anxiety, which breeds hostility and—sometimes—overt aggression and violence.
