My last name is Italian, but the ancestry is very very distant. The name just managed to keep going. My maternal grandfather’s side is prominently Irish, and my maternal great-grandmother was Swiss German. Other than that, there’s a smattering of Basque/French on my dad’s side, and Scottish and English on mom’s.
There is a bit of American Indian on both sides of my family - which I’ve always liked. It’s like I have a connection to this country somehow. There’s something in me, in my blood, that has been on this land for hundreds and hundreds of years - long before white settlers. I guess you can say it makes me feel more American, but not in that jingoistic bumper-sticker sort of way.
I’m kidding . . . sort of. The area of Wisconsin that I grew up in has a lot of people of Cornish descent. Most people think of Wisconsin as having heavy German roots, but where I’m from, the big cultural food tradition is Cornish pasty. Practically everybody has some Cornish miner blood floating around in their veins somewhere. After that, it’s definitely German.
The part of my family that I get my surname from came to Wisconsin sometime before 1848 – that’s when the land records begin for the family farm, but they were definitely there before they owned the land. They were from Cornwall. After that came a long stream of various European ancestors. The palest peoples of Europe went into making me: English, Scottish, Irish, German (except they were dark-haired, brown-eyed Germans, not flaxen.) There are various others, but I’m essentially anglo-saxon.
If forced to choose an “ethnicity” other than generic rural American, I’d probably go with Cornish and then German, if only because of where I grew up and the traditions there and within my family. My great-grandmother on my mother’s side was born in Germany, but the Cornish influence, despite being over a 150 years distant, is definitely stronger.
I’m half-Italian (on my mother’s side) and…let’s see…parts Irish, Welsh, German, and Native American on my father’s side. However, I consider myself and refer to myself as Italian(-American), because while my mother’s family is (smotheringly) close, my father’s tends to be much more distant (I think I’ve seen my aunts on that side twice in the last four years (and one of those was for my father’s funeral)).
From my mother’s side, however, I get a love of Italian food, a heritage of Italian music and dances, childhood and adolescent membership in an Italian Catholic parish (and continued attendance of parish carnivals), and all the little Italian Catholic traditions (cheek-pinching, torrones and pizelles at Christmas, dancing the tarantella at weddings).
I’m as English as they come. I love cricket, football, beer that isn’t fizzy and cold, Guinness, Marmite and red wine. I am a hypocrite and am overly fond of toilet humour. For some reason, my parents made me have orthodontic treatment when I was young, so my teeth aren’t as English as they ought to be. I fancy myself a bit of an eccentric and a radical, but am in fact very conservative.
I dislike working very hard to earn money, but I love inheriting it or spending it.
I was a toddler when we moved from England (Sussex, to be precise) to the U.S. Some Britishisms still creep into my speech and writing and I still have a weakness for sausage rolls and Yorkshire pudding. In other words, yes, I do have an ethnicity, although some people don’t seem to be sure “English” counts as one.
I’m also 1/8th Irish on my father’s side, which basically means I look very good in green. I blame my habit of writing poetry and my unusual relationship with the Divine on the Irish streak, but that could be stereotyping.
My last name is French. My GGGGGGGG-GF was a huguenot and came to Williamsburg, VA in 1700. From there on, they’ve mixed with basically English, Welsh, Irish or Scots-Irish Americans. The only French thing about me is my name, and possibly my attitude. So, put me down for American.
I also don’t really have any ethnic identity. On my father’s side–well, I grew up just thinking of him as English, which is what you were if you’re not French (yes, I lived a sheltered childhood). Since that was the side of the line I grew up on and went to school with, I never thought much of it. I know he has some Celtic roots, but I don’t he identifies with it much either.
My mother is Acadian, and I’ve always looked at that as being a little special and setting me apart a bit. But I though I think of myself as Acadian before anything else, I don’t really identify with that side either. Partly because as I said earlier, I grew up on the other side of the line. I went to an english school, didn’t really have any french friends past the age of 8, and I never really learned that much about the culture either. I don’t even like rappie pie–I’m not sure if I need a or a pukey here.
As far as the culture I grew up in, I’m not a part of that either. I’ve never been like the people I grew up with, except maybe a bit of an accent, and I don’t want to be like them.
So where does that leave me…oh right, Canadian. Yeah, that works.
My father’s grandparents were Italian and Irish, but his parents and he himself were born in South America, as was my mother. I lived there until I was about fourteen, and the cultural identity there is strong.
I’ve had this discussion with other Anglos I know, and the fact is, other countries have a perception of what “white” culture is, but most white people themselves do not. It may be because the country, as of yet, is still young and evolving, and that identity is constantly changing due to the influx of immigrants such as myself.
Well, my mom’s side has roots primarily in England and Scotland, with a bit of German and Irish tossed in. My dad’s side is Native Canadian (Cree) and French. So growing up I had a lot of choices as to what kind of culture I wanted to follow, but I think I identify myself now as Metis (Native/French). I just seemed to gravitate towards that more than the other cultures - the others are definitely not boring, they just didn’t make me feel like I belonged.
I don’t think this will be a surprise to anyone, but I identify quite strongly with my E. Indian background. I was born there, and was old enough when I took U.S. citizenship vows to remember taking them (8). My first allegiance is always to the States, but as long as there’s no interference I still hold plenty of love for the old country.
I typically identify as white, just because people have two typical reactions when I tell them I’m Melungeon: they say “You’re what?” and then they say, “I didn’t know those Black Dutch folks was real.” Also, there’s no “Melungeon” bubble on government forms.
My mother was born and raised in Amsterdam. My father was born in the U.S., and is ethnically Irish – I don’t know whether either of his parents was born in the U.S., but I know none of his grandparents were. I usually identify as American, but I usually identify as Irish more than Dutch, just because there’s more Irish family and culture hereabouts.
Well, I thought, doesn’t everybody? But in the sense you mean, I’m not sure I qualify. I’m pretty much a mix of normal Southwest Missouri white guy & sort of child of global post-British-imperialist Anglo.
Ethnically I am a Hillbilly. Family on all 4 sides were in the US before the revolutionary war. and most moved to the hills. Scotch, Irish, English, Swiss, and American Indian.
I’m from Chicago, and we have those neighborhoods like you mentioned for NE Cities. You can still find areas that are (almost) exclusively Polish, Latino (with a special neighborhood for Puerto Ricans), Korean, Chinese, Indian/Pakistani, and the list goes on.
Three of my four grandparents were from Ireland, one was from Germany. I identify more with the Irish, as my Gaelic-speaking (she spoke English, too) grandmother moved in with us once Alzheimer’s kicked in. Also, at my univeristy, there was a strong south-side Irish contingent. So, I’m Irish.
However, when it comes to the World Cup, I am 100% German.
I believe the answer depends on whether your people were oppressed. I always said “I’m English-Scottish, but it doesn’t matter, and I don’t think of myself in those terms.” However, for a big chunk of US history, my people were in charge here. It’s denial for me to ignore it. There were never signs that said “no Brits need apply” or “Scots not allowed here.” The Irish, on the other hand, and the Poles, and the Africans were shunned. They had to hold on to their ethnic pride and stick together just to survive. Maybe I’m out on a limb, here, but I think that’s why folks of English, French, and Scottish descent in the US don’t feel strong ties to the old country.
Dad’s side: All of my great-grandparents came over from Sicily in the early 1900s. My dad & uncles grew up with their grandparents & spoke Italian when quite young. Thing was, this was immediately post-WWII; my grandmother told my nonnas to speak only English around my dad & uncles - she wanted them to be able to avoid most anti-Italian sentiment.
Mom’s side: My grandfather’s family came from Ireland way back. Maybe they were potato famine folks; I have no idea, which is sad. My nana came from Scotland when she was four; we still have relatives there - we visited about ten years ago.
I feel pretty connected to my ethnicities; we’re not super-Sicilian, but we’re in touch. I think that maybe those of Sicilian descent are a bit more…fierce about our heritage. And I feel equally connected to my Scottish & Irish heritage; we even do corned beef, cabbage & boiled potatoes on St. Patrick’s Day/my sister’s birthday. I think my fondness has to do with being an underdog, myself.
If non-Americans ask me what I am, I tell them that I’m American; if Americans ask the same question, I answer that I’m Sicilian, Irish & Scottish.
or a pukey here.
