My paternal grandparents were immigrants to this country. It was not unusual for them to describe someone as being a landsman. They were identifying them as having the same country of origin as theirs. Since so many people from eastern Europe and Russia were scattered in their escapes to the United States, it must have been comforting to meet others who survived the horrors of war, religious discrimination and even genocide.
What about me? How do I know which folks give me a sense that we are landsmen? In today’s political unrest, there is a strange feeling that we as Americans are not landsmen. Since I do not live my life based on talking heads shouting about politics, where do I live when a screen is called for?Particularly during 2020 and the limited contact with large groups of people, I have an online community. And it is on the internet.
By looking at the places I choose to visit online, I see my landsmen more clearly. Where do I live on YouTube, Facebook and Instagram? Apparently I am from the countries of art -mixed media, art journaling and monoprinting in particular. I stay in touch with local artists. I come from the land of animal rescue; especially dogs, cats and farm animals. My flag would definitely have the image of a goat on it. There are a few bloggers I follow religiously for their wisdom and their humor. When they make a book or website recommendation, it feels personal; as if they are speaking directly to me.
So for all of my whining about me vs. tech, there is a comfort zone there for me in various corners of the internet. The best part? I can take what I like and who I follow and delete the rest.