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As Mutt as a Mutt Gets

DSCF2870Christi Perkinson,
Red Wing, MN.

My mom is full blooded German so I’ve always known that I was half German, but the other half was a mystery. My dad’s side is quite the mystery. His Father was born in the south while his Mother was born in Canada. Both sides came over to the U.S. early in the history of the U.S. There were rumors that one of my ancestors came over on the Mayflower, but we never had any documentation.
My aunt on my dad’s side, now retired, has been spending hours of free time compiling a family tree. I now have a glimpse into my heritage, at least a bit. Many of my ancestors came from England, Ireland, Norway, and Sweden. I found out that not 1, but 2 ancestors came over on the Mayflower and signed the Mayflower compact. Although I now have a glimpse into my ancestry and heritage, I still only know about 70% of it. Regardless of my ancestry, how I categorize myself in society is not based on where my ancestors came from, but where I am from.
While I had Welsh grey eyes, I don’t identify with European countries. I consider myself a typical Minnesotan, the whole “Minnesota Nice,” “You betcha’”, and “Hot dish” kind of girl.

Celtic mutt…happens to be white.

Jenn Jackson,
Canada.

I grew up in surroundings that were predominantly white, wanting to learn more about other cultures. I moved to an urban center and felt myself stuck; clumsy in the navigation of culturally diverse waters: focusing on differences, as opposed to similarities. It’s taken a long time, a lot of diversity training and many experiences that make me put my face in my hands and shake my head in retrospect. I will, no doubt, add a few more such experiences before the end of my life and welcome the learning that comes along with it. I suppose the thing that I hits me most acutely are the people who were party to some of these conversations, and still accepted me after the fact, recognizing that I was not being intentionally bias or intolerant…just human, flawed and deserving of another opportunity to see each other for more than our differing racial backgrounds.

That is Mr. “Mutt” to you!

Chris Cochran,
Murrieta, CA.

Where are you from? It’s a loaded question in that I could answer where I was born, where I was raised, where I live currently, or from which country does my family hail. Well, I’m a bit of a “mutt” actually because I am a conglomerate of many immigrants of many nations, but most notably English, Irish, Scottish, Canadian, Welsh, Swedish, Native American, but many just call me “White boy.” True, my family has come from all over, but I am a sixth generation California with ancestors dating back to the Pony Express in Northern California since 1870. I may be just another white boy or “mutt,” but that is Mr. “Mutt” to you!

California Baptist University, History 311- Minorities in America.

No, sorry I don’t speak Spanish

New (1)Maria (Victoria) Lopez,
Moreno Valley, CA.

I am a student at Cal Baptist University and am in the class History of Minorities. My professor had us look into this web site for an assignment but to talk about our own race card. My race topic is, “No, sorry I don’t speak Spanish” This has been my answer to the question, “Do you speak Spanish?” I have been asked this question from the time I was a little girl from distant family members, friends, strangers, and colleagues. Usually after this question, I get, “Aren’t you Mexican?” I am not what is stereotyped of a Mexican, Latino, Hispanic, Chicano person. My family has been mixed and churned from many races and ethnicities but with my name, everyone assumes I should speak Spanish. A part of me would love to speak Spanish while the rebellious side does not want to only because everyone assumes I should.
My parents are both Hispanic and Caucasian. My father grew up in a Hispanic culture home that only spoke Spanish. He learned English when he started school in Kindergarten. My mother did not learn Spanish and grew up in an American culture home. My paternal grandmother is the only grandparent that I have who came from Mexico, even though she is half Mexican, a quarter Austrian, and a quarter Italian (as I said, I come from a mixture of race). My other grandparents and their families have been in the United States for generations. I have three grandparents that their first language was Spanish and English became their second, while I only have one grandparent one who speaks English.
Growing up I was asked, “What are you?” Is there a need to put a title on a person? I soon learned to name all my ethnicities to answer the question. This would get a strange stare. In the end, I learned to say, “I am a mutt.” I taught my daughters, who are a bigger mix of ethnicities from my husband’s side, to say it as well. However, with my daughters, when asked if they are Mexican and if they speak Spanish, they are told many times, “Then you’re not Mexican, if you don’t speak Spanish.” How can people be so mean? My children love to hear of their family background, especially from my father who tells stories of his paternal side who have lived in New Mexico for generations. They go to see their great-great grandmother and their family members who talk about their Hispanic ancestors. So how is it fair to say that we are not “Mexican” or even “Hispanic” just because we do not speak Spanish?

Adopted parents, who the hell knows?

Haley B
Grand Rapids, MI

My parents are adopted. I am a mutt. Both of my parents are darker complected with strong features that I wish I would have inherited as I am pale, blonde and blue eyed; so I get labeled “white.” When I look at the world around me, I see the variety in people, and I don’t base my judgement on your skin color, I base it on your character. Although I am dying of curiosity to find where my parents originated, I think that the wonder I have about myself allows me to have an unbiased view on the ethnic world around me.

Are you black? You look so …

Nicole Collins Bronzan
Rahway, NJ

I’m a mutt — black, Native America, Irish, you name it — raised all over the world as a military brat. I consider myself black, but depending on where I am (and how tan), I get all kinds of questions, though substantially less so in a diverse city like NYC.

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