This week, I have delved into the swing of work at the EFJ, with a clear project ahead of me to create a report as part of a new campaign to fight against the defunding of Public Service Media across Europe. My immediate team consists of my two supervisors, who are often busy running around Belgium attending conferences or taking care of family. But when we do have moments together in the office outside of work discussions, it is usually during our lunch breaks, when work is rapidly sidelined as a topic of conversation and coworkers relax into discussions of family, their lives in Brussels, their experiences learning languages, and being in intercultural relationships. As I began to find in last week's blog post, Brussels can be such a special city because outside of its own history, its character is constantly being shaped by the influx and exchange of people from others nations and cultures; none of my coworkers themselves grew up here, and each tell a different story about the role Brussels has played in their lives. I love asking their recommendations for places to eat, like when my Italian coworker went on an impassioned diatribe about the overrated Italian restaurants in Brussels that TikTok has blown up, and the authentic spots she recommends going instead; for the best chocolate in Brussels (my current favorite pictured below!); for day trips to take, like this nearby canal town Ghent that I took a day trip to yesterday upon their recommendation (pictured below too!); and cultural experiences to explore, like the Bozar museum and arts center, which I booked tickets to the orchestra to on Friday night (and witnessed the most mind-blowing performance of Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 2 and Stravinsky's Firebird) and my boss' husband's bookshop, Librebook.
A topic of conversation that keeps returning during casual conversations, and even when discussing the future of the free press, is my identity as an American. While most coworkers can presume that by virtue of my obvious enthusiasm for the cause of defending press freedom and media pluralism, that my political affiliations are not blindly aligned with America's current political figureheads. However, when they discuss America's political situation, often viewing it as a cautionary tale for what the EU is sliding towards, they project their frustration with America politically onto Americans themselves. As such, I have realized it truly is a large responsibility of mine to serve as a sort of ambassador for American culture, a task I didn't anticipate having to take on to this extent. Often, coworkers or Brusselians I meet will ask me if life in NYC and Columbia under Trump is "as bad as they have heard" and ask whether political polarization is as palpable as statistics suggest, infusing such questions with implicit stereotypes generalizing all Americans. While it is no new phenomenon for one culture to stereotype another that they have little direct exposure to, I am coming to understand that the combination of the is existing human tendency with America's formidable political situation and its pervasive influences across the globe have made many people's perceptions of Americans more bleak and one-dimensional than ever. (In fact, I attended a book talk once again at Librebook this week -- book pictured below -- that covered this very topic of how the European continent can break free of the grasp of American influence). By virtue of being the home of the EU and other multinational institutions, many Brusselians are also acutely aware of and dedicated to promoting political progress. It has thus been a challenge to adjust to these expectations, and to consider how I can represent myself as a citizen of America in a way that does not dismiss or defend America's problems as a whole, but that showcases its diversity and multi-dimensionality. Conversations I have with my parents and with friends back home have been my most useful outlet for processing these interactions, allowing me to bridge the perspective of someone who is directly living in the US and living that reality, and the expectations of Europeans who only observe America through the media.
In terms of the work itself that I am doing at the EFJ, a problem I have encountered consistently is the sense of pessimism that is growing increasingly pervasive about the future of the media in Europe. Public service media are being rapidly defunded across a majority of European countries, journalists are repeatedly targeted and pressured into self-censorship through legal and physical harassment, and the growing influence of billionaires and Big Tech CEOs buying out media companies poses serious threats to media pluralism long term. My coworkers are all incredible dedicated to the cause of press freedom having spent decades of their lives at the EFJ. They continue to do the work they have been doing for so many years, and are not backing down from the challenge of leading a campaign--the one that my work primarily revolves around--to ensure PSM is institutionally protected. It is nonetheless clear that morale about the prognosis for PSM and journalism in general has declined. It is demoralizing to witness such a dedicated group of people appear to lose hope in the future, despite continuing to do their work, though it has only motivated me as an intern to do as much as I possibly can in the 6 weeks that I am here. Still, I have ultimately found that the community of coworkers I have around me is the best resource for mutual support and encouragement amid these political frustrations. While many across Europe may be losing sight of the critical role the free press plays in both democracy and in the health of European society, it is comforting to be surrounded by a group of such hardworking, passionate people who have dedicated their lives to safeguarding these ideals, and who know how to listen to one another when times are as difficult as these.