My editor sent me to The Children’s Home to interview a group of European 20-something volunteers who had traveled to the facility to do landscaping over the course of two weeks. They were kind enough to take time out to sit down and talk to me about their travels and why they decided to spend their break in America.

It was eye-opening for me because I never would’ve volunteered to spend my Spring Break doing hard labor. I spent all of my breaks at home because I never had any money to travel anywhere.

They told me about where they were from and what they were studying back home. They also explained to me the breadth of their projects on the grounds. I was humbled by their efforts and willing attitudes.

After they graciously finished answering all of my questions, one of the volunteers asked me a question.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

I couldn’t believe it. I’ve been asked this question my whole life by people in and around this country – but never by a foreigner.

So I gave my standard response.

“I was born outside of Los Angeles but I grew up here in Winston-Salem,” I said, knowing that didn’t answer their question completely.

They collectively shook their heads and a few replied with “ahs” and “ohs.”

“We thought you were European. You don’t look like you’re from this country,” someone said.

“Yeah, I hear that a lot because I’m black but don’t look like it.”

They shook their heads again, possibly more confused by my second response than my first.

We shook hands and exchanged some parting pleasantries. I believe we all walked away from that interview having learned something new that day.

Me: I don’t think I would be a very good landscaper.

Them: Americans look funny.