Episode 1: What is Nomadic Humanism?
Recording the podcast in Los Angeles
In this pilot episode, host Anya Overmann introduces herself, telling the story of how she became a global humanist leader and how she became a digital nomad. Anya explains the concept of nomadic humanism and how it can help us to expand the definition of community – building relationships globally across cultures and digital space to share this one life we have.
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Podcast Transcript
Anya Overmann:
Hey everyone. This episode was recorded when I was President of Young Humanists International. We have parted ways since this recording.
This episode also uses language that some listeners may find offensive.
Enjoy the episode.
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[Acoustic guitar music begins playing]
Anya Overmann:
Hi. I’m Anya Overmann and I’m your host here on The Nomadic Humanist.
Humanist values of secularism, science, and human rights are inherently communal. The Nomadic Humanist explores how individuals without a single fixed home or community live out humanist values.
Through nomadic humanism, we learn to expand the definition of community, building relationships globally across cultures and digital space, to share this one life we have.
[Music stops]
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On this first episode, I’m going to dive into what it means to be a nomadic humanist.
But first, let me tell you a little bit about me.
I was raised by 2 atheists who were both raised Catholic themselves, then independently realized they were atheists before they even met each other.
They wanted to raise my brother and I without religion but soon realized we needed SOME knowledge of religion to be able to navigate our culture.
That’s when they found the Ethical Society of St. Louis
Now, Ethical Culture is a humanist movement focusing on human goodness and building ethical relationships with each other and the Earth. As a non-theistic organization, Ethical Culture does not concern itself with the existence or non-existence of a deity but instead embraces the diversity of the membership.
It’s a little different from the more widespread secular humanist movement that most people are familiar with in that it was founded by a Jewish Rabbi named Felix Adler, who emigrated from Germany. Felix liked the communal parts of religion but wasn’t so keen on the trappings of ritual or creed, which led to his founding the New York Society of Ethical Culture in 1877.
This society included weekly Sunday lectures appealing to non-theistic peoples. It also included a free Kindergarten and a team of nurses who would visit the sick and elderly. “Deed over creed” became the motto. Since then, Ethical Societies developed across the US, including in my hometown, St. Louis.
The major difference between Ethical Culture as a subset of the humanist movement is generally that they’re more interested in interfaith relationships. The secular humanist movement often attracts people who have been traumatized by religion and are less interested in establishing interfaith relationships and more interested in carving out a space for nonbelievers. I think both are very important, and that’s why I interchangeably will refer to myself as Ethical Humanist or just Humanist.
I grew up in Ethical Culture since I was in Kindergarten. I went through weekly “Sunday School,” where I learned about ethics, society, and all of the major religions. I went through an 8th grade “Coming of Age” ceremony, which is very similar to the Catholic “Confirmation” rite of passage. I also went through a “Youth Group” program in high school, which is where I found my footing as a leader within the humanist movement.
After I graduated from high school and went off to college, I became more involved with the 18 to 35-year-old group of young humanists in the Ethical Culture movement called Future of Ethical Societies, or FES for short. That’s ultimately what led me to becoming involved with the youth section of Humanists International, which is the umbrella organization for humanist organizations around the world.
I attended a General Assembly for Young Humanists International in Oslo, Norway to represent the American Ethical Union back in 2015. There I was elected to be their Communication Officer. Ever since, I’ve had a role at the international level. I was elected President of Young Humanists International in 2020.
And that’s the short history of the humanist side of me.
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Now let me tell you about how I became a nomad.
Before I became a nomad I was already pretty well traveled. My first trip out of the country was when I was 18 and had just graduated from high school. My uncle, who lives in Hong Kong, flew me out to work for him and live with him for a summer. I had my suspicions prior to leaving the US, but this first international trip confirmed my belief: the US is not as great as I was led to believe and exposing myself to other cultures is a good idea.
I tried briefly to go to college in Hong Kong rather than Truman State University back in middle-o-nowhere Missouri, but it was just too expensive. I also tried to go to college in Canada, but not knowing what I wanted to do made it really hard to apply for their programming.
I powered through my four-year college degree in three years so I could come out debt free. Then when I graduated from college, I set my sights on moving to London. I worked for the first year after college to save up for an internship program there, with the intention of using it as a conduit to emigrate to the UK.
I applied for over 100 jobs while I was there but was not successful and had to return to St. Louis to work. I worked at my uncle’s company doing marketing and teaching gymnastics in St. Louis while also doing content marketing gigs on the side. Like many Millennial job experiences, the money wasn’t good, and my desire to work hard and prove myself was often taken advantage of.
That all came to a head in 2017 when I managed to turn a part-time gig into a full-time remote content marketing job that would enable me to work from wherever I wanted. I took the opportunity to go to London to spend some time living with my then-boyfriend. Then 5 weeks into going full-time, I realized my boss was full of shit and wasn’t going to pay me, so I quit. I was done working for other people, and that’s when I started working for myself. While work isn’t always a certainty, I could always rely on myself to pay me.
And around the same time, I started to become disillusioned with the cost of living in London and enamored with the idea of being able to live in many places. I read about digital nomading and I knew immediately that that was the life for me.
At that point, I had been to a number of countries, often for humanist conferences. Oslo, Norway. London, England. Auckland, New Zealand. Reykjavik, Iceland. I’d also been to a number of other countries to visit as well. It was great. I felt most alive when I was far away from St. Louis. St. Louis depressed me. In my experience, there are so many people who don’t care about the rest of the world and were plenty content with their tiny little boring St. Louis lives.
And I’ll never forget just before I left for London for the first time when I was wrapping things up at my uncle’s business. A coworker asked me if I could speak French. I said, “why?” and she said, “Because London is in France.” I politely corrected her and moved on. Then, later on, when I was describing where I was working in London to another coworker and used the BBC headquarters as a landmark, she admitted that she had never heard of the BBC. She didn’t even know what it was. I was blown away that these older women were so incredibly uninformed about some of the most basic international knowledge. But it tracked with many of the experiences I had in St. Louis. People didn’t think larger than their tiny lives, and it drove me nuts.
That absurdity became unbearable just a few months into the pandemic. The aloofness towards not just the greater global community but the health of those in the St. Louis community was weighing heavily on my anxiety. To be surrounded by people who made it so clear that they didn’t care about the people in their community was not something my mental health could handle anymore.
So, in July 2020, my partner – who had already begun living as a digital nomad – and I decided to leave the US. I gave up my apartment, sold my car and most of my other possessions, and we left at the end of August for Croatia.
At the time, Croatia had a national mask mandate and a low COVID case count, so it seemed like a much safer choice than anywhere in the US.
I certainly wasn’t planning to begin this nomadic lifestyle in the midst of a global crisis. I had intended to build up my business for a little longer until I felt very comfortable. But I ended up having to prioritize my safety over my comfort. It’s truly unfortunate that I left St. Louis in a rush because I felt unsafe. But I also had not felt a sense of belonging in that city for a very, very long time. So in many ways, it was a long time coming.
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And thus began my great experiment: What happens when you apply humanist values to a nomadic lifestyle… and during a pandemic, no less?
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One of the most important things I want to address with this podcast is the importance of ethical travel. Many digital nomads fall into thinking, “what can this travel experience do for me?” without thinking about the impact of their travels. There is a seemingly, never-ending laundry-list of ethical concerns when it comes to the digital nomad life, and in just a year and a half of experience, I’ve noticed that many of those concerns are ignored by digital nomads.
If I were to follow suit with these digital nomads and ignore all the ethical concerns that come with travels, I would be out of alignment with my humanist values. So, I sought out travelers who cared about these things.
I searched for nomad bloggers who were talking about the pandemic… and was incredibly disappointed. The best these bloggers did was reference the pandemic restrictions in passing as if it were just another minor inconvenience to navigate as a part of traveling rather than a serious means to keep locals safe from virus-ridden travelers.
It turns out that many digital nomads emulate the behaviors of their imperialist ancestors. And yes, most digital nomads come from incredibly privileged backgrounds. Many are white. Many come from rich families. Many speak English. Most nomads hold the most powerful passports in the world, either from the US or another Western nation.
I may not be able to revoke the privileges I was born with, but I can use my privileges to be a more conscious traveler and help others do the same.
So I’ve made a commitment to exploring the complex ethical landscape of travel and the nomadic lifestyle. I’ve committed myself to continuous practice in being a more ethical traveler.
If that resonates with you and you want to take this journey with me, I welcome you.
[Music]
It won’t always be comfortable, but it will be interesting.
Carly Turro:
Thank you for listening to The Nomadic Humanist, written and hosted by Anya Overmann.
If you enjoyed the show, make sure to like and subscribe to the podcast. You can follow Anya’s journey around the world by visiting nomadichumanist.com
The Nomadic Humanist is a production of Atheists United Studios and was produced by Joey Krieger and Evan Clark in sunny Los Angeles, California.
Special thanks to Katie Bolton, Phil Gundry, and Heretic House for donating their time and space to the production of this season.
On behalf of The Nomadic Humanist, I’m Carly Turro. Happy travels!
[Music stops]
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Outtake
Anya Overmann:
And thus be-GAIN my–
[Laughs]
Be-GAAAAAAAIN
[Laughs again]
Whoops.
Evan Clark:
That was a killer take, though. We’ll actually just call that the pause.