Last year, my PhD viva-versary was a bit painful. I had assumed it would take about 5 years to establish my career, so when the 5 year mark rolled around, and I was still in a temporary, part-time contract, struggling to find time for research and publications, I felt like a failure.
This year is different. Everything is on pause. Covid-19 has changed everything, and Black Lives Matter has changed it all even further. The old measures of success (like a full-time, permanent contract) seem less important in the midst of a pandemic and a global reckoning with racism.
I’m using this time to read some Brené Brown and work through my perfectionism —the term “life paralysis” really hit home for me. It’s where you are afraid to put yourself and your work out into the world because you fear failure, and you do nothing. It’s why I struggle to write and publish, and why I don’t apply to jobs unless I’m fully qualified and experienced already.
I’m also using maternity leave for its intended purpose—to recover from the craziness that is pregnancy and childbirth, to embrace motherhood, and to look after these two little guys while they both still fit in my lap.
Academic careers are slow-burners—I’ve got all the time in the world.
Yesterday afternoon I watched a Public Diplomacy Council webinar from one of my PD scholar mentors/friends, Nancy Snow. She had worked with Phil Taylor (my first PhD supervisor) on the Routledge Handbook of Public Diplomacy (now in its 2nd edition, co-edited with Nick Cull, my external examiner). She shared her dissertation on Fulbright with me, and we met in person at the 2015 University of Arkansas conference on Senator Fulbright’s legacy. It was so lovely to chat with her about our mutual interest in Fulbright and our mutual friend in Phil, our adventures as Americans living overseas, and our experiences as women in academia. All of this preamble is just to say, I wasn’t surprised that Nancy’s talk resonated with me. She picked up on some excellent points about the current state of world affairs and how PD fits into it all.
Nancy Snow has been living and teaching in Japan for a number of years, so she shared her observations about Japan’s response to the pandemic. On the one hand, they are a success story. They have had a relatively low death rate, with fewer than 1000 deaths in total, and the country has lifted its lockdown. The general mood, however, is still grim–Snow suggested that the personal misery index has continued to climb because economic insecurity has risen. Furthermore, people perceived a lack of leadership at the top, with the late decision over Tokyo’s Olympics postponement and the lockdown.
This discrepancy between the figures and the prevailing sentiment is fascinating–as occurs so often in politics, it’s not what’s actually happening that matters, it’s what people think is happening. We’re seeing that in the UK right now with the Dominic Cummings scandal. The government has been trying to excuse it, explain it away, and tell the public to move on and focus on Coronavirus crisis instead. Meanwhile, a large proportion of the public thinks the Cummings scandal is about the Coronavirus crisis, that it is an example of “one rule for them, one rule for the rest of us,” and many people won’t take the lockdown/social distancing practices seriously, now that those who created those rules have been shown to break them. Perception is key.
Another interesting point was the issue of empathy, and the need to challenge the lack of compassion and empathy in our leadership. Nancy is working on building a gendered understanding of international relations, and recently wrote this piece that applied a gender lens to Joseph Nye’s work on morality and international politics. I’m inspired to build on this, especially given the excellent examples provided by female heads of state during this pandemic of empathetic and supremely competent leadership. Jacinda Ardern (New Zealand), Angela Merkel (Germany), Mette Frederiksen (Denmark),Tsai Ing-wen (Taiwan), Erna Solberg (Norway), Katrín Jakobsdóttir (Iceland), Sanna Marin (Finland) are all highlighted in this Guardian piece as success stories.
There was so much else in the talk, but I’ll just close with one comment on the other crisis the U.S. is facing right now alongside the pandemic: racial injustice. Nancy quoted Edward R. Murrow’s observation that if we don’t address race relations now (in the 1960s), it’ll become a propaganda tool for the Soviet Union. And it was–I discussed this in my dissertation, that African students were targeted for exchange programs in the Soviet Union during the Cold War and told that if they went to study in the U.S. they would be in danger (or at the very least, experience discrimination and segregation in parts of the U.S.). America’s race relations are still a significant part of our image abroad. I found it really sad that on a recent episode of TLC’s “90 Day Fiance: Before the 90 Days”, a Nigerian mother didn’t want to give her blessing to her son to marry an American woman because she said it was dangerous for black people there. “I’m afraid of how they will treat him, since the whites don’t like the blacks over there.” (clip at 2:20). I know 90 Day Fiance isn’t authoritative, but it does offer some candid, real-life examples of how the U.S. is viewed abroad.
These protests at U.S. Embassies over the murder of George Floyd are proof that Edward R. Murrow was right about the significance of U.S. race relations for the country’s national image. We need to do better as a society, and part of that, in Nancy Snow’s and my own opinion, is to challenge the lack of leadership we’re currently seeing–by protesting, by signing petitions and writing to elected officials, by donating to worthwhile causes, and by turning out to vote in November.
This pandemic has brought into question one of the basic tenets of public diplomacy–Murrow’s ‘Last Three Feet’ of international messaging. The ‘personal touch’ of a Cultural Affairs Officer or a citizen diplomat communicating with locals overseas face-to-face was the whole point of public diplomacy. Bringing people together, sharing ideas and experiences, learning through immersion–how can that happen at a distance? In this new global context of travel restrictions, what does public diplomacy look like? What is its raison d’être?
The USC CPD Blog has had some really interesting pieces over the past couple of months, and when I get a chance, I hope to read them all & reflect on them here. In the meantime, here are some of my preliminary thoughts on PD in the post-Covid-19-era:
Moving (even further) online
Firstly, I think we’re going to see public diplomacy activities shift online, even more than they already have, with things like virtual exhibits and galleries, and webcasts of lectures, and distance learning versions of educational exchange.
This has tremendous opportunities for expanding the reach of public diplomacy efforts. Where an art exhibition might only reach a few hundred visitors in person, making it available on the web and sharing it on social media platforms could increase its reach dramatically. It also has significant cost-savings and environmental advantages, when compared with the expense and pollution of international air travel.
Craig Hayden’s 2016 chapter “Technology Platforms for Public Diplomacy: Affordances for Education” considered the potential applications of MOOCs (massive open online courses). It highlighted some of the ways technology can enhance PD practices, and raises interesting points for consideration as our reliance on technology increases. The US State Department’s MOOC Camp is discussed as a largely successful endeavour, and it offers a model which could be built upon in the future.
One caveat to techno-optimistic thinking, however, is that while the internet offers more potential for increased audience size and interactivity, it also suffers from attention scarcity–there is too much content and audiences are fragmented. It is difficult to be heard on the internet, especially by the general public (who are unlikely to do a google search for virtual cultural exhibitions). Also, it is always important to bear in mind that the internet is not universally accessible–just 59% of the world’s population are active internet users (Statista), and although internet penetration rates have increased significantly over the past decade, there are still dozens of countries where less than a quarter of the population are online (Wikipedia). A shift towards online public diplomacy can mean ignoring parts of the world that are significant public diplomacy targets for the West.
2) Uniting publics over shared problems
Pandemics have a strange way of bringing people together. Although we’re all going through it separately, this is a common experience that we’re all sharing. Some people are isolating more comfortably than others, of course, and key workers never stopped going out into the world, but for many millions of people, this has meant staying home and limiting contact with others–a weird time that we’re all processing together.
Pandemics are shared problems that demand shared solutions. We have to cooperate on a global scale to resolve the pandemic, whether it’s collaborating in medical research to create a vaccine or coordinating resources like PPE. A vivid illustration of crisis-induced cooperation is the fact that wars have stopped–apparently they weren’t essential after all.
Public diplomacy can play a role in addressing issues that transcend borders. Initiatives like Fulbright NEXUS were aimed at bringing scholars and professionals together to work on shared problems, such as public health, climate change, and food and water security. The program has been on hiatus since 2016, according to the 2019 USACPD Annual Report, but recent events may inspire a reboot.
Hayden, C. (2016) Technology Platforms for Public Diplomacy: Affordances for Education, In: Mathews-Aydinli, J., Ed. International Education Exchanges and Intercultural Understanding, London: Palgrave Macmillan.
The lockdown has been strange and difficult for everybody, but one demographic that has been particularly impacted is mothers.
I happen to be on maternity leave, luckily. I weren’t, I don’t know how I could possibly teach online, mark assessments, answer e-mails, etc. on top of caring for my baby, teaching my primary schooler, cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes, etc. I’m exhausted just from doing the 50’s housewife thing, plus teaching one kid. Doing any research on top of all of that is unimaginable.
It looks like I’m not the only academic mom who’s completely absorbed with childcare/domestic concerns during the lockdown. This article in the Guardian shows how common it is—while journal article submissions from men have actually increased during the lockdown, women’s research outputs have dropped significantly.
Our work is the first thing to fall by the wayside in a crisis. One thing that struck me in the article, though, was that even an immunologist, somebody whose work has actual relevance for the crisis– who’s actually giving lectures on COVID-19–is facing the same challenges of balancing work and home responsibilities.
She is quick to point out that her husband has taken on a lot at home too, but because she earns less, and can be more flexible about when she works, the bulk of the childcare falls to her.
When I read that paragraph, it felt like my parenthood/career journey summed up, capturing the conflict between what makes sense and what feels right. I don’t want to complain–like this woman “is quick to point out,” my husband helps, too. I should be grateful–but then I think of the satirical “Man Who Has It All” posts like this:
It makes sense to put my career on hold, to embrace maternity leave and quarantine homeschooling, to do the bulk of the housework, shopping and meal planning, etc. I’m happy to do it, most of the time.
But… I feel like an idiot and a failure for not having an established career—I’ve got a PhD, a few publications, but not a permanent contract or even a full-time post yet. And shouldn’t I be working on that? Shouldn’t the half-finished books and articles and proposals get some attention?
The Mom guilt voice says no, your kids are not going to be babies forever—embrace this time together! Your work can wait! (How unfair that men don’t seem to have an equivalent voice in their heads…)
The lockdown offers a unique, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to embrace motherhood (or parenthood) and domesticity–whether you actually want to or not.
At one point in the not-too-distant past, COVID-19 was a relatively minor news item–the virus didn’t even have a name, it just sounded like another SARS, and cases were linked to specific areas. Now, it’s a pandemic and there have been over 1.2 million cases and 60,000 deaths worldwide. Much of the world is now living under social distancing measures, ranging from full lock-down to more voluntary guidelines.
Everything’s changed so quickly–it’s hard to believe that it’s just been a few weeks. In mid-January, our local GP clinic had a little sign up on the door saying not to come in if you had recently travelled to one of the countries on their list and presented the listed symptoms. That clinic is now completely locked-down, with dozens of signs and taped off entrances, and the walk-in clinic and all non-essential appointments have been cancelled. I had to take my son in for his 8-week vaccinations, which thankfully was deemed essential. We had to be triaged on the phone, then they had to unlock the door to let us into the empty waiting room. The nurse who gave him his jabs was in full protective gear, too–I’m grateful for her sake that she had it, when there are so many stories of frontline healthcare staff working without adequate kit.
It’s been a surreal experience, living through this pandemic and its countless impacts. Social media has been a lifeline, enabling interaction with friends and family around the world as we all go through it together, separately. It’s been interesting (and often upsetting) to see how different countries deal with the virus. As an Italophile with friends in and from the country, it’s been particularly heartbreaking to see what’s happening in Italy. This viral video was an excellent example of people-to-people international communication:
When the video was posted on 15 March, we were still living as normal. We were commuting to work, doing the school run, shopping for non-essentials, attending public events, etc. My nephews in Minnesota, as well as family and friends in Washington state, had their schools closed that week, and ours were closed the week after. My friends and family and I are all living under slightly different restrictions and timelines, but we’re all going through this together.
The pandemic is a global experience that truly highlights our common humanity and underscores what really matters–physical and mental health, and interpersonal relationships. This is an opportunity to humanize international relations, not through exchange and face-to-face contact, but through shared experiences on a global scale.
Between not teaching this term, doing up the new house and being pregnant, I’ve neglected this blog over the past couple of months. I’ve been meaning to post thoughts on pregnancy/parenting as an early-career academic, but it’s a big topic to tackle, and difficult to be reflective and inclusive when I really only have my own experiences to share. My maternity leave officially starts today, so I thought I’d have a go anyway and share some of my favourite pregnancy resources.
1) Pregnant Chicken
As a first-time mom who took an instant dislike to the tone of sites like “What to Expect” and “The Bump”, I was thrilled to find “Pregnant Chicken”. Brilliant, funny Canadian writer Amy Morrison is everything you’d want in a mom-friend–she clearly knows her stuff but keeps the tone upbeat and never preachy or judgmental. She strikes the perfect balance between information and entertainment.
Her week-by-week pregnancy calendar e-mails are the only ones I signed up for this time. My favourite posts are this very accurate sleep guide and this essential reading for new parents who are upset/confused/irritated by unsolicited comments & advice.
2) Evidence Based Birth
On a recent Birth Hourpodcast, Evidence Based Birth‘s founder Rebecca Dekker, PhD, explained how the site and its resources grew out of her research into her own first birth experience. It was traumatic, for both her and the baby, and included a number of practices that are not supported by evidence. They were simply presented to her as necessary and “the way things are done,” and as a first time mother, she didn’t think to question them. The site presents evidence from actual medical research in a neutral, fact-based way that does not seek to promote any particular philosophy or approach to birth.
As an American in the UK, it’s been very interesting to me to look into the evidence as I try to work out why the NHS does what it does, and why their outcomes are so much better than those in the US healthcare system. This article on the evidence & ethics on circumcision is a great example–if I’d stayed in America, my sons would have been circumcised without a second thought. It’s “the way things are done” there, yet rare in many other countries. The NHS doesn’t perform them routinely.
3) Ina May Gaskin
I never thought I would go for a “natural” approach to childbirth–I always liked the joke that an epidural is “natural” because it’s natural to want pain relief. Two things changed my mind: 1) watching The Business of Being Born, and 2) reading Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth. I first heard about counterculture icon Ina May Gaskin in the documentary, and when I became pregnant I turned to her book to learn more. I donated the book after I had George, to pass on her wisdom to others, and then bought another copy when I became pregnant again. I love reading the positive birth stories–especially because we usually hear horror stories from others and in the media! One of my favourite concepts from Gaskin is the idea that women shouldn’t be afraid of giving birth–our bodies are made to do it, and animals don’t approach birth with fear. While there are plenty of scary things that can go wrong, it’s good to be reminded that most of the time, birth doesn’t require extensive medical interventions to get a healthy mom & baby at the end of the process. I’m not 100% on board with all of the ideas presented, but as they said at La Leche League meetings, “take what works for you and leave the rest.”
My new journal article in Place Branding and Public Diplomacyis now available online! It discusses the theory and practice of exchange diplomacy and analyses the results of a survey of Fulbright Program administrators around the world that I conducted for the 70th anniversary of the program, in 2016. I presented the study at the ICA Conference in Prague last year, and wrote and re-wrote this paper a few times between now and then. I’m much happier with it now that I was with its earlier versions, and it’s great to see it finally getting published.
This has been my first properly “independent” publication–my other 3 have all been published alongside other conference papers in special issues of journals/an edited book. I’m working on a couple of other independent things, so hopefully there will be more publication announcements in the near future!
Last week marked the 70th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China. We spend so much time in school learning about WWII, but very little attention is paid to China and the Pacific Theater in the years that followed–the history curriculum, at least in the US, seems to jump from WWII to the Vietnam War. Beyond knowing who Chairman Mao was, I really didn’t know much about the 1949 revolution before reading a book for my thesis research, Wilma Fairbank’s America’s Cultural Experiment in China, 1942-1949 (Washington: Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs, Department of State, 1976).
Histories of US exchange diplomacy often make the Fulbright Program sound like a higher ed version of the Marshall Plan, suggesting it was a post-war effort to rebuild Europe that ultimately turned into a Cold War tool, as well. But although Europe is home to some of the largest exchange programs, the first Fulbright Program was actually with China.
It took about 7 months of negotiations between the US and China to finally reach an exchange agreement that would establish this first Fulbright Program. Part of the delay was due to disagreements over control (the US insisted on a directing board made up entirely of Americans) and the question of how the new program would differ from existing educational exchanges under the Boxer Indemnity Scholarship program. Established in 1908, the program created scholarships for Chinese students to study in the US out of funds that had been paid by China to the US (indemnity for the Boxer Rebellion). The Chinese government had control over that exchange scheme, while Fulbright would be a US-administered activity, with completely different funding arrangements, but the Foreign Minister expressed concerns “that it will be impossible to explain these distinctions to Chinese public opinion.” (p. 156). Economic instability was another challenge–inflation and exchange rates fluctuated and it was difficult for administrators to predict exactly how much a grantee would need for a year’s stay.
Even after the agreement was reached in November 1947, it wasn’t until March 1948 that the program was established enough to actually launch exchanges. The first grantee, Derk Bodde, a Professor of Chinese Studies at University of Pennsylvania, was contacted by Washington officials, who asked if he would be prepared to go to China as a Fulbright Fellow. “We would like an immediate decision, if possible, so that we can make a press release today to say that the Fulbright Program has been started.” (p. 174). It had been 18 months since the Fulbright Act had been signed, so they were keen to start it and Professor Bodde was, in his words, “tremendously happy to go.” (p. 175)
A total of 27 Americans were able to take up their Fulbright grants to China in that initial cohort, with 18 of them based in Peking by the end of October 1948. 14 other American grantees’ awards were “suspended due to conditions in China” as the conflict developed (p. 178). For those in the country, questions of safety soon arose and it wasn’t clear what should be done to address it.
On November 1, 1948, Mukden fell to the Communists, marking the final defeat of the Nationalist forces in Manchuria. The imminence of the southward advance on Peking was obvious.
This developing crisis demanded some prompt action by the Foundation. Order the Fulbright fellows out of Peking? Send a rescue plane to move them and their few dependents to safety? Perhaps even send them home in view of the increasing hopelessness of the military outlook for the Nationalists? The Fulbright program was, after all, financed by Chinese Government currency which was not only plunging rapidly to new lows but would certainly not be accepted in areas controlled by the Communists.”
Fairbank, 1976, p. 179
The Foundation decided not to terminate the program, and ultimately managed to support all of the grantees who wished to stay in China for the year. This small group of American Fulbrighters was lucky to have the experience, despite the uncertainty and challenges they faced, because China had been largely off-limits for American scholars from 1937 to 1945 (due to the Sino-Japanese war and WWII), and would be again for many years to come. The 1948-49 academic year was, therefore, a unique moment in US-Chinese relations and exchange diplomacy.
American officials maintained some hope for the continuation of the program well into the summer of 1949, despite Communist advances and funding challenges due to the devaluation of the yuan–for example, “the final telegraphic transfer of funds to grantees in Canton had involved losing the equivalent of 87 cents on the dollar” (p. 196)! Cultural Attache George Harris asked the department to “undertake to assure the availability of funds for continued educational exchange activities in China should events render a program possible.” (p. 197).
By August 31st, however, the program was suspended. Funds were exhausted and “Communist policy showed no hope for continuation of the program on the China mainland.” (p. 198). The Fulbright Program in China was resumed with the normalization of US-Chinese relations in 1979, and has continued and grown ever since (apart from a suspension in the 1989-90 academic year, in response to US criticism of China’s violent crackdown of pro-democracy protests in Tiananmen Square)
Several interesting lessons can be taken away from America’s Cultural Experiment in China, and this first Fulbright Program highlights some key points about the nature of exchange diplomacy.
There have been attempts to politicise the program from its very beginnings.
W. Bradley Connors, Acting Director of USIS in China, suggested that Fulbright professors should “explain our democracy and way of life to their Chinese students, who will take an important interest in explaining to students the fallacies of their anti-American sentiments, making this phase of their work as important as their own courses and lectures. Only in this way can we obtain full value from such exchanges.” (p. 204)
Those attempts have been consistently resisted, and academic integrity has been prioritised from the beginning.
“Fortunately, the Board of Foreign Scholarships had been established for the express purpose of selecting grantees on their scholarly qualifications, not their usefulness for political ends.” (p. 204)
“And in Nanking the personnel of the Board and of the Foundation were wholly devoted to furthering the scholarly aims of the grantees, which could be attained in the circumstances only by their remaining aloof from political involvement.” (p. 204)
There’s a discrepancy between what Washington might think happens and what actually happens in the field.
“The U.S. Government expenditures for cultural relations programs were justified in Washington for various nationalistic and public relations ends–to make friends abroad, to enhance the American image, to counter Axis propaganda and, in the case of China, to give educational and technical assistance to a wartime ally.” (p. 205)
“But in the field, public relations was never the primary aim, and the enhancement of the American image in China occurred only as a byproduct of a job well done. What was actually taking place at the Point of Contact was a transference of ideas, skills, knowledge, understanding, and human feeling from persons of one culture to those of another, directly or through various media.” (p. 205)
Further reading on US-China exchanges:
Fu, M. and Zhao, X. 2017. “Utilizing the Effects of the Fulbright Program in Contemporary China: Motivational Elements in Chinese Scholars’ Post-Fulbright Life” Cambridge Journal of China Studies, 12(3), pp. 1-26.
Li, H. 2008. U.S.-China Educational Exchange: State, Society, and Intercultural Relations, 1905-1950. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press.
Xu, G. 1999. The Ideological and Political Impact of U.S. Fulbrighters on Chinese Students: 1979–1989. Asian Affairs, 26 (3), pp. 139–157.
The surest sign somebody’s considering a run for executive office is the publication of their combination memoir/manifesto. TheTruths We Hold follows the model of Barack Obama’s The Audacity of Hope even more closely than I expected–it’s as though it’s been updated to critique the Donald Trump years instead of the George W. Bush years. Both books do a beautiful job of capturing the massive scale of contemporary problems we face while still expressing optimism and an unshakeable faith in American values. If you, like me, question that such values still exist in post-2016 America, it’s good to be reminded of them as we go into the next election.
After admiring Kamala Harris’s skillful questioning of people like Brett Kavanaugh, I was excited to see her amongst the 2020 Democratic primary candidates and I was keen to find out more about her. There are definitely some similarities between her upbringing and Obama’s. They were both raised by strong, academic (Shyamala Harris was a breast cancer researcher, Ann Dunham had a PhD in anthropology and worked in microfinance development) single moms, both of whom they lost to cancer in the early stages of their political careers. They both grew up travelling internationally and developing a worldview that’s more cosmopolitan than that of the average American (she visited grandparents in India and Jamaica, Obama lived in Indonesia). They both earned law degrees and have a strong public service ethos.
Significantly at this stage in the primaries, both candidates have been considered “unelectable”. Back in May, Samantha Bee pointed out that questions of “electability” only seem to face the female candidates, like Warren, Harris, Gillibrand and Klobuchar. Early polls ranked Biden, Sanders and O’Rourke as the most “electable” candidates, despite the fact that they have all lost elections and primaries in the past. The ladies have not.
Kamala Harris has won every race she’s ever run–for San Francisco’s District Attorney, California’s Attorney General, and her current U.S. Senate seat. Yet the pundits still say she’s not as “electable” as Biden or Sanders (who’ve both lost previous bids for the presidency). Harris addressed this claim at a recent rally in Iowa:
I’m not the only one who’s noticed the similarities between Harris and Obama–a few months ago, this Vanity Fair piece described Republicans who feared the prospect of Harris running for president because they saw her as “the next Obama”. In the same way that it would have been great to see Obama debate Trump and stand up against his birther conspiracy mongering face-to-face, I would love to see Kamala Harris use her prosecutorial skills against Trump in a debate. She speaks so eloquently and persuasively in her book about his litany of crimes–intentionally cruel policies of separating families and detaining kids in cages, Islamophobia, cuts to public services and tax breaks for the wealthy, transphobia, sexism, racism, actual confession on tape of sexual assault, unwillingness to condemn white supremacists/KKK/neo-Nazis, etc. It was sometimes overwhelming to read this book, to see it all written down in one place, rather than just getting a constant trickle from the 24/7 news cycle. But her no-nonsense approach, her determination and her optimism helped to balance that out and restore some degree of hope in the end.
While there are several candidates in the primaries that I would be quite excited to support in next year’s election, Kamala Harris is my current frontrunner.
Yesterday the UK government announced plans to prorogue (suspend) Parliament in the run up to the 31 October Brexit leaving date. The Prime Minister claims the timing decision was about making progress in other policy areas (fighting crime, funding the NHS & education, etc.) but that doesn’t fit with what he’s said in the past. During the recent leadership contest, he considered using it as a means to get Brexit through:
Brexit has been 3 years of crazy so far, and I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I know one thing–on a human level, the people of the UK and the people of the rest of the EU are fine with each other. Even the most ardent Brexiteers actually love Europe. They drink champagne and vacation in Italy and Spain, they love the German Christmas markets and shop at Ikea. They drive Audis, BMWs, Volvos, Fiats, Renaults, Citroens, Peugeots, Dacias, Skodas, etc. They eat huge amounts of food imported from the continent–the UK imports nearly 40% of its food, and 79% of that comes from the EU. At grammar school, they learn European languages like French, Spanish, Italian, German–they’re not learning Chinese or Arabic (although Brits are well-below the EU average when it comes to languages: only 38% of Brits speak at least one foreign language, versus an EU average of 56%).
At the end of the day, Britain and the EU are neighbours and friends, colleagues and family members. They were before Britain joined the EU, and they will still be if/when Britain leaves the EU.