What I Was Missing About American Friendliness

After eight years living in the United States, I thought I understood why Americans talk to strangers.

I assumed it was friendliness.

But over time, I started to realise I was looking at it the wrong way.

In this episode, I share the observation that changed my perspective and why I now believe friendliness isn't the goal at all. From conversations in grocery stores to chance encounters with complete strangers, I explore what Americans may really be trying to do when they strike up a conversation.

This isn't an episode about extroverts versus introverts, or whether one culture is better than another. It's about belonging, inclusion, and a part of American culture that I didn't fully appreciate when I first arrived from Australia.

Sometimes it takes an outsider to notice something the people living inside a culture can no longer see.

From Down Under to Down South is a podcast about culture, identity, family, and life between Australia and America.

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Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

For years, I thought Americans talked to strangers because they were friendly. Then I thought it was because they were curious. Then I thought it was because they were a country of extroverts. But after eight years here, I think all of these things are partly true. But recently I started wondering if I was focusing on the wrong thing. Because after reading thousands of comments from Americans on this channel, I kept noticing the same thing. It wasn't really about conversation, it was about making people feel welcome. You better take cover. The comment that got me thinking was actually pretty simple. An American who now lives overseas wrote, It's nice reading all these comments and seeing foreign visitors are being treated really well. So what caught my attention wasn't really what they said, it was what they didn't say. Because they didn't say, I'm glad America looks good. They said, I'm glad they're being treated well. And that's a different thing. It's not reputation, that's hospitality. And the more comments I read, the more that theme just kept appearing. Another person wrote, It breaks my heart that people don't do this in other places. Another said, I just want to bring a little bit of joy. Someone else piped in with a spark of calm energy. Another said she compliments strangers because she sees so many people having a hard day. And again and again, people weren't really talking about conversation. They were talking about making other people feel welcome. When I first moved here, I was blown away by how complete strangers would start conversations with me at gas stations, in parks while I was taking the kids for a walk, random school events, even at the DMV, which honestly feels a little bit like cheating because nobody should be happy at the DMV. Now, when I first went to get my Tennessee driver's license, I spent four hours sitting there. And in that time, I learned more about local camping spots, parking tickets, and barbecue than I had in my entire life. That's the friendliness of Tennessee for you. Yeah, at first, I assumed these conversations were just people killing time. But honestly, I'm not so sure anymore. Because Americans often seem to view friendliness as something that you give away first, not something that you wait to receive. Another viewer told me a story about moving from California to Tennessee. And he said people waved at him while he was walking his dog. Not that little steering wheel wave, the full hand, all fingers up, which, as I told him, is definitely preferable to only using one finger. He said at first he found it pretty awkward, but then eventually realized that maybe he was the odd one out. And I laughed because honestly, that was basically my first year in Tennessee as well. And for months, I genuinely thought everyone knew each other. I'd be standing somewhere and watch two people start chatting. Then I'd think, oh yeah, they must be old friends. Makes sense. But five minutes later, I'd discover they'd only met 30 seconds ago. Or I'd walk into places and wonder, how does everyone here know each other? And the answer was they didn't. They were just willing to start. And that's something I think Americans underestimate themselves. Just how much of a difference starting can make. Because starting carries a little bit of risk. You might get ignored. You might get a one-word answer or run into someone that genuinely doesn't want to talk. You might get an awkward smile back, or discover that person is having a terrible day. Yet so many people here are willing to try it anyway. Another viewer said something that really fascinated me. He said some of the coolest moments in his life came from conversations with complete strangers. You think about that, not from vacations or weddings or parties, just random conversations. Because if you genuinely believe that, you're probably a lot more willing to say hello first. And you're probably a lot more willing to be the person who starts the one that takes that risk, makes someone else feel included. The person who makes a stranger feel welcome. One of my favorite comments came from a ride share driver. She said she asks passengers, what do you want to be when you grow up? Even to adults, especially to adults. And when they say, Well, I'm already grown up, she tells them, I'm not. Which is honestly a fantastic answer when you think about it. What struck me wasn't really that question. It was the fact that she'd thought about it at all. She wasn't just driving people from one place to another. She was trying to make their day just that little bit better. So last week I decided to stop waiting for other people to start, which as an introvert doesn't come naturally to me. We were in Daytona Beach for seven days at a national dance competition. Every time I got into an elevator, I'd smile at whoever got in, say good morning, or make some comment about the day, the weather, whatever. For seven days, I basically became the kind of person I'd normally try to avoid in an elevator. Yeah, honestly, it was ridiculous how quickly it worked. I actually met another Aussie. He picked up on my accent just from the way I said good morning. I met a cyclist from Hawaii who was traveling across Florida on her bike. I met fellow dance moms and dads from all over the country. And none of those conversations would have happened if I'd stayed inside my shell. And that's one reason I find this whole topic so fascinating. Because I don't think Americans see strangers the same way many other cultures do. A stranger isn't necessarily an interruption. A stranger is often seen as somebody who just hasn't been included yet. And that's the part that kept showing up in the comments. It wasn't friendliness, it was inclusion. A woman told me a story about her German uncle. Her mother kept talking to random people everywhere they went. And eventually her uncle asked, How do you know all those people? And the answer was, well, she didn't. She'd just met them. But what's fascinating is that the uncle assumed she must know them because otherwise, why would they even be talking? And the American assumption was completely different. Why wouldn't we be talking? Which, to be fair, is a terrifying sentence for many introverts. It's almost like Americans start from a different assumption. It's not who are you? But pull up a chair. And I've noticed it all over the place. School events, dance comps, churches, neighborhood gatherings. People seem genuinely uncomfortable leaving someone standing alone. It's not everyone, it's not all the time, because yes, America does have introverts as well. Trust me. Thousands of them have commented on these videos. But even many of the introverts say something very similar. They may not enjoy constant conversation, yet they still appreciate being acknowledged. And that was the part I wasn't expecting. Because I assumed extroverts liked this stuff and introverts just hated it. The comments are much more nuanced. Many people weren't asking for friendship. They were asking for recognition, maybe a smile or a wave, just a simple hello. Some sort of signal that says, yeah, you belong here too. One comment I wrote, it breaks my heart that people don't do this elsewhere. And the more I thought about that sentence, really the more I understood it. And it's not because of the conversation, but it's because of the belonging. Imagine arriving somewhere new, a new town or state, a new country, new school or a workplace. Then imagine nobody talks to you. Nobody smiles. Nobody asks a question. Nobody even notices that you're there. That feels very different from arriving somewhere and hearing, hey, where are you from? How are you? Welcome. And one interaction doesn't change your life. But it can definitely change how a place feels. And that may be the biggest thing that I've learned living here. Because many Americans aren't trying to impress you. They're not trying to sell you something. They're trying to remove the feeling that you're alone. That's a subtle distinction. But I think it's a really important one too. Because if your goal is making people feel welcome, then suddenly a lot of American behavior actually starts to make a lot of sense. The conversations and compliments, the questions, the invitations, the little waves, chatting in line. Cashiers asking about your day, and neighbors bringing you a plate of cookies when you first move in. Viewed individually, these things can seem pretty small. But when you view them together, they're creating something much larger. It's a feeling that you belong. And perhaps that's why so many Americans in the comments aren't defending their behavior. They seem genuinely confused that anyone would find it unusual. Because from their perspective, making people feel welcome isn't extraordinary. It's normal and it's what you're supposed to do. So after eight years here, I no longer think Americans talk to strangers simply because they're friendly. I think friendliness is often just the tool. The deeper goal is helping people feel like they belong. It's the instinct to say, come join us, pull up a chair and tell us your story. You belong here too. And honestly, that explains a lot. Who remained? You better take cover.