🛂 Enough with "Expats"

Why I'll never use this word to describe myself and I invite you to (not) do the same

Two of my favorite actors, Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Lily Collins, are in my Instagram stories, reminding me and other American expats living abroad to register to vote. While I’m grateful for their celebrity-endorsed civic nudges, the word expat feels incongruent—because, let’s be honest, this word often makes living abroad sound more glamorous than what it actually is—being an immigrant.

If you’re American and haven’t registered or aren’t sure, go register NOW—as of today, we’re 32 days out, and state voter registration deadlines range from 15 to 30 days before an election.

Expat is one of those words we toss around without thinking, but it’s dripping with classist baggage. And I’m here to call it out—not to shame anyone, but to name it, consider its implications, and offer up alternatives.

Historically, the word "expat" was reserved for diplomats and wealthy people who could afford to live abroad without integrating into their new countries. Colonial-era British officials in India? Expats. Wealthy American retirees living it up in Costa Rica? Expats. Someone from the Philippines working a low-paying job in hospitality in Europe? Immigrant. The people tending the fields and harvesting produce in the United States? Most likely an immigrant or migrant. The linguistic divide is as stark as the class one, and the connotations have carried over to the present day.

Expat resident or immigrant employee wiping a table? | Photo by Mizuno Kozuzuki

In my first post, I promised you wouldn’t see me writing about my hashtag “expat life” because that phrase feels like an elitist humble brag. It’s not that either word—expat or immigrant—is inherently wrong. It’s the context in which it’s used that describes and divides. Expat refers to a white, privileged crowd who want to sound worldly, while immigrant is reserved for people with more melanin, with less socio-economic advantage, or who are fleeing persecution. These word choices go beyond describing relocation; they reinforce divisive social hierarchies and racial biases that are rooted in colonialism.

There are many words referring to people moving and living abroad, so, my fellow word enthusiasts, let’s look at the dictionary definitions:

• Expatriates (i.e., expats): people living outside their country, by choice or for relatively well-paid work, with a visa, who may or may not permanently relocate.

• Immigrants: people who move to another country intending to settle long-term and possibly to work, depending on their visa.

• Migrants: people who move from place to place, often for low-paid, seasonal work, with or without a visa.

• Refugees: people who are forced to leave their countries due to conflict, political, racial, or religious persecution, or natural disaster, with or without a visa.

While these definitions are distinctive, they are also dynamic. An expat, for instance, can be, and technically is, an immigrant—even if they don’t plan to stay in a country forever due to visa limitations or a change in life plans. In a perfect world, a migrant or refugee would have the option of applying for permanent residency and call themselves an immigrant.

Here in Spain, people from elsewhere are extranjeros or extranjeras—which translates to "foreigner." It’s a wonderfully neutral term, and it’s how I refer to myself and my foreign-born friends. Like many other cultures, Spaniards have a derogatory term for poorly-behaved light-skinned foreigners from Northern Europe, "guiris," similar to the Mexican word "gringo" or the Hawaiian "haole." I don't often get called a guiri, but in my experience, unless you’re disturbing the peace with alcohol-fueled behavior or routinely refusing to speak Spanish, people may jokingly call you a guiri when they learn where you’re from, but never again (at least not to my fair and freckled face).

If you’ve read this far (thank you!) and you still want to call yourself an expat or use #expatlife on Instagram, I invite you to sit with that. Words have power, and our society tends to resist or embrace identities based on their connotations. Ultimately, you'll need to find a way to describe yourself that resonates with you and makes sense to people where you live.

What word or phrase makes the most sense to you? Leave a comment and share your thoughts.