Tag Archives: melting pot

Warning! Controversial Post Below. If You Are Easily Offended, Please Go Somewhere Else

 

I could just stop there, I suppose. My readers know me well enough to know what I’m going to say. But just in case you’re here for the very first time, I’ll elaborate.

First, let me say I am beyond thrilled that we finally (and I do mean finally) have a black president under our belt. Now, maybe we can vote/concentrate/fix the issues at hand rather than focus on the skin color of our elected officials.

Second, I adore the fact that, once again, we seem to have a stable, loving married couple in office. No matter what your politics, both the Obamas and the Bushs seem strong, united and committed to each other.

I saw this magazine cover at my local grocery store. Frankly, I was offended by the headline “Celebrate Black Love!” Whenever I see something that points to color of skin I insert “the opposite” and wonder who else might be offended.

So let’s try it. Let’s insert white for black.

“Celebrate White Love!”

What do you picture? The cover of a KKK magazine? And who would be the quintessential white couple? Now, who is offended?

Let’s skip the fact that this is a magazine geared toward the black community. (That’s a topic for another post) Let’s focus on the fact that the white population will soon be the minority. Let’s consider that everyone, including our president, craves to be recognized for their contributions to society, their strengths, their merits.

Not for the color of their skin. 

We live in a country where the concept of melting pot is becoming more and more real every single day. I love it that the US is a melting pot. This is something I want to celebrate. This is not a time to encourage distinction and division.  

Celebrate Black Love?

Why can’t we just celebrate love?

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Filed under Soapbox

American Mutt Takes A Taste From The Melting Pot And Craves More

Peg, at Square Peg in a Round Hole, tagged me for this exercise. It sounded like fun so I decided to play along. It prompts you to tag 5 other people but I’m going to do a broad sweep and encourage all and any of you to play! (I’m all communist that way!) It was perfect for me since I was suffering a bit of blogger’s block. Even if you’re not suffering blogger’s block you can play and then store the post to use later. Perfect for an easy-peasy post sitting in your stockpiles.

Here are the rules:

  1. Go to your first photo file and pick the 10th photo in it.
  2. Tell the story behind the photo.
  3. Tag 5 other people to do likewise (or everyone because you’re an equal-opportunity blogger like me!)

Now, on with the show!

I am a true American mutt. I am Irish, Scottish, German and Polish. Our families immigrated to America between the mid 1800’s and World War II. All were escaping poverty. All were seeking opportunity.

I know very little about my history. All of my grandparents have passed. My parents and aunts and uncles have little interest in our family tree. But my second cousin, who sent me this picture, is very interested. She has been collecting information and searching for new leads. I’ll be interested in what she finds.

The above picture is from a part of my German side. I say part because I have some family that came in early 1900 and some who escaped during WWII. These are my great-great grandparents. Entrepeneurs. Strong work ethic. Amazing role models for my grandfather who became quite successful in business. Once they arrived here to America, they never worried about money again.

My mother brings the Polish side of my family. Fun-loving. Silly. Family oriented. Funny. I remember family gatherings where aunts and uncles would sit around and tell, of all things, Polish jokes – and crack themselves up at the absurdity. My grandfather would enter a contest in the local paper. A cartoon would be shown and contestants were asked to enter a caption. He won so often they limited his winnings to once a month.

One of my favorite stories on my Scottish side was of my great-great-grandfather. When asked the spelling of his name at Ellis Island he switched it to the Irish spelling because he was angry at the Scottish government. I loved that story and likened my rebellious spirit and political activism to his. Alas, that story was merely a myth. My great-aunt set the record straight at a family reunion. When my newly married great-great grandfather and grandmother arrived they were asked their name. The officer wrote it down with the Irish spelling. To honor my great-great-grandmother (she was Irish), my great-great-grandfather let the switched and omitted letters slide. “Awwww, how romantic, ” we all sighed. So, I’ll liken my feminist spirit to that of his, instead.

I wish I had appreciated the many family gatherings and story telling sessions when I was younger when many of these relatives were still alive. I long to ask questions of how we came here to the United States and how we thrived. There seems to be a generation of disconnect between my grandparents and me and my cousins. I’m thankful my cousin is stirring the pot. The smells from the kitchen have piqued my interest. I’ll let you know what I find.

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Filed under family