Dear America, From Germany

Testaments from a Compatriot Abroad

Documenting what it feels like to watch the rise of U.S. authoritarianism from Germany.

June 5, 2025

I was raised in the U.S. My family’s still there. But I live in Germany now, and today I’m watching my home country through foreign eyes.

Each night as I lie in bed, I am greeted by videos of immigration raids back home. Masked men in unmarked vehicles. Communities rallying in protest, forming human rings to protect their neighbors. Mothers desperate to stay with their children. Fathers taken, unsure if they’ll ever return. People facing deportation to prisons or unfamiliar countries. I watch through a screen, feeling helpless. And I wonder: What would I do if I were there? What would I do if it were me?

It feels like those moments in history class when you read about past atrocities and asked: How did that happen? What would I have done? But that era is now.

German headlines today asked, “Who is allowed to travel to the USA?” referring to new travel bans. “Wealthy people will be able to buy their way into the country,” the article continues. The German Chancellor, visiting Trump, left behind a symbolic gift of a collection of letters from 19th-century German immigrants describing their dreams of freedom in the USA. I sigh as I doubt it will be read. And even if it is, no letter or book could change this administration’s worldview.

In that same meeting, Trump declared that immigrants are:

“murderers” or “the worst people in the world” who “overran the border.”

— Spiegel Abroad

Here in Germany, leaders are openly asking: What happens if the U.S. cuts off intelligence sharing? There’s talk now of building a European alternative, something they’re calling “Euro Eyes.” Germany, my adopted home, is actively strategizing how to protect itself from my homeland. As such, I feel the need to apologize in every conversation.

Indeed, every exchange I have comes back to U.S. American politics.

What’s happening? How is it happening so easily? Do people in the U.S. really believe this? Why hasn’t someone stopped it?

And every time, I have to remind people that for the most vulnerable, this isn’t new. The system has always functioned this way. It’s just expanding. The infrastructure for cruelty was already there and operating.

So I sit, during Pride Month, and watch my country strip rights from the very people it claims to celebrate. From my seat of privilege, where healthcare is universal and child benefits exist, I watch as the U.S. contemplates gutting Medicaid. In some ways, that seat makes knowing what is lost more tangible.

Germany has its own demons. The same prejudices are growing here. The same rhetoric is gaining ground. I wonder if we’re just a few years behind. If my efforts should be more focused on my adopted home.

I wonder if I’m doing enough. If speaking out, if writing, if organizing, if showing up, really matters. I’m working on a book about how to navigate intentionally manipulative media, but sometimes I worry it won’t reach people in time. Or worse, that it won’t make a difference at all.

Recently, I met with a group of political activists who asked for my thoughts on how to strengthen their efforts. I offered everything I could, like strategies, social media outreach, encouragement, and community. I told them their voices matter, even when they feel small and drowned out. And I meant it.

But some days, it’s hard to hold onto that belief. Hard to trust that words and solidarity can shift anything against the tide.

Still, I come back to the same anchors:

Community. Mutual aid. Activism.

Even when it feels like too little, it’s something. And it’s ours to give.

But today, I’m mostly thinking about the distance between what the United States says it is and what it’s becoming.