I’m in spaces that my community is not in at all.
An Interview with Laura Kupe on an “Afropean-American” Perspective and Diversity in Foreign Policy and National Security
Blog Post
Sept. 18, 2020
Laura Kupe serves as Counsel on the House Committee on Homeland Security, where she supports and advises Democratic Members on legislative and oversight matters pertaining to transportation and maritime security.
Kupe’s portfolio includes oversight of the U.S. Coast Guard’s initiatives that are focused on addressing diversity and inclusion, bullying, and harassment.
#OurVoicesInNatSec amplifies the voices of experts of color in the foreign policy and national security space, while shining a light on the barriers they face, the resources that help them navigate the space, and the cultural and structural changes that must be made to ensure their inclusion and thriving. These pieces seek to provide knowledge and insight to those entering the field and those seeking to make it more equitable.
The Better Life Lab and the Diversity in National Security Initiative sat down with Laura Kupe as part of the #OurVoicesInNatSec profile series. Our conversation with Kupe has been edited and condensed for clarity.
You describe yourself as “Afropean-American.” Can you talk a bit about your personal history and how it has shaped your interest in foreign policy and national security?
I was born in Germany to Congolese parents and then from about 6 months old until almost 10 years old, I grew up in Luxembourg, where I spent almost a good half of my childhood.
A lot of my family still lives in Europe—Luxembourg, France, Belgium, Germany—and I remember going back to visit in the summers. In addition to my Congolese heritage, my linguistic ties to Europe as well as my childhood in Luxembourg has deeply impacted my interest in global issues and international affairs.
How did living between cultures as a “3rd culture kid” shape how you thought about the world and inform your desire to pursue a career in this field?
While growing up in Luxembourg and later the United States, I learned about the interconnectedness of the world. In Luxembourg, children are basically trilingual by third grade; I learned German in first grade, French in second grade, and spoke the local language, Luxembourgish. Living in a country which, despite its wealth, depended on Germany, Belgium, and the Netherlands for economic survival, showed me the importance of cross-cultural engagement.
I’d also say that in a way, I grew up observing the world. As a kid, I basically watched American TV all the time and when I wasn’t watching that, I’d be watching German, French, and Dutch shows. This early exposure to cross-cultural exchanges shaped my worldview; everything was interconnected. Raised by parents who immigrated from a developing country—the Democratic Republic of Congo—I learned to pay attention to, respect, and learn from other cultures, while always remaining mindful of larger, ongoing issues like war, conflict and poverty.
Ultimately I chose to pursue a career that allowed me to not only intersect both of my regional interests—Africa and Europe—but also pursue my commitment to social justice. I do recognize that compared to my fellow colleagues doing work related to the transatlantic, I have a completely different way of looking at the world because of my lived experience.
Not only have I been an immigrant on both sides of the Atlantic, but I am also a Black woman. Being a Black person has impacted me so much. Experiences of discrimination and racism—those things never leave your brain. These are the types of conversations I would love to see more of in the foreign policy space.
What are some of the challenges you faced when you tried to bring your unique perspectives to the table?
As a Black woman, operating in a field that has not traditionally been open to new or different ideas is not easy.
I’ve experienced my share of racism and sexism, and have seen my ideas dismissed. For example, in the past, when I’ve written about migration issues or issues impacting people of color in Europe, I did experience fear around publishing those pieces because the topics they discussed were not mainstream transatlantic issues that my white peers cared about, paid attention to, or thought of as important. There are even folks who, at the very beginning, wrote the pieces off as not academic or significant enough.
I’m now thinking of the piece that I wrote about racial discrimination in France. After Emmanuel Macron won the presidency in 2017, many people in the United States celebrated his victory; however, I wanted to call attention to the fact that his stances towards people of color in France remained unclear. At one point, while I was preparing this particular piece, I was told by one of my colleagues that it wasn’t well-researched. With the encouragement of another Black woman, Jalina Porter, who is a friend and foreign policy practitioner telling me, “No, we’re gonna publish this somewhere,” I was able to get the article published and then had the chance to talk about it on a radio interview. If she hadn’t said “This is important,” there wouldn’t be this literature and my live voice out there exposing the harmful impact of racism which exists in France as well.
I have been fortunate to have a solid tribe while working in this space, and this tribe has encouraged me to write and share my ideas regardless of what naysayers have said. I am so glad I’ve listened to them!
In your experience, has the foreign policy and national security space listened to the voices of experts of color?
When I’ve been in spaces that focus on regions in Africa, I’ve noticed that diaspora voices are not heard as much; these voices have been dismissed. There are folks in Washington D.C. who have made careers focusing on the global south, yet they don’t necessarily listen to people who have family or otherwise direct ties there. Those perspectives should be incorporated into policy discussions as well.
When something goes wrong in those countries, it’s usually folks like my parents who are sending money back, paying for school fees, doctor’s fees, and funerals. But oftentimes, people like my parents, aunties or uncles may not be seen as respectable to policy experts here in DC. If a person were in this D.C. space were to ask them “What do you do?” they’d respond, “I’m a cab driver” or “I’m a nurse” or “I’m an engineer” only to be blown off. I’m in spaces that my community is not in at all.
For me, it’s been really interesting. Even as a professional working on foregn policy and national security issues, I still see my ideas dismissed and am made to feel like they aren’t good enough. When I try to raise issues that impact my community, they simply don’t get serious attention because the dominant culture in a lot of foreign policy circles has never valued them or even dared to explore another side ironically foreign to them. Even so, I know my voice and perspectives matter and will share them regardless.
What would you like to see change to create a substantively and sustainably more diverse and inclusive foreign policy and national security space?
This space must be more supportive of experts of color coming into the field, and allies should continue to listen to them as they raise issues, speaking their reality and their truth. Ultimately, experts of diverse backgrounds should be comfortable sharing who they are. They should feel comfortable saying, “I have an immigrant background” or “I know people who came to the U.S. as refugees,” without feeling embarrassed or ashamed.
I want us to be authentic. If people in the foreign policy space say that they desire diversity and want to hear new ideas, actions have to show it and time will tell.