No. I left England when I was 4, and barely remember the place. Like I said, I’m a New Zealander. That’s the place I grew up, and the culture I identify with. As for being proud of it - well, that’s something I’ve never gotten about any country: people don’t have a choice as to where they were born, and I didn’t have a choice about moving here, so pride in something you have no choice in is - well, bewildering.
Don’t get me wrong, I like New Zealand, and I think that it’s generally a good place to live, if a little provincial at times: it’s a good place to bring up kids, as they say, and that was actually the real reason I came back. But proud of it? I might as well be proud of having blue eyes.
Not all Poms that come here, naturalise and ecome citizens, still talk of “home” as being dear ol’ Blighty, calm kiwi. Some do, yeah – but my mum, as an example, was proud as punch to call herself a New Zealander, and proud as punch of the certificate that said she was part of this country for good.
My mum was not a Pom after she stepped on these shores. Only to those who prefered to have a go and call her that.
You are better off being “YAYYYYYYYYYY KIWI” proud of it then thinking it is a good place for kids to grow up. Have you checked the statistics lately?
It is a lot provincial and not a very good place to bring up kids if you believe in statistics.
I’m as proud of being Pakeha as you were in mentioning you were born a Pom.
For fucks sake no one ever has a choice in where they were born. Those who immigrated did though, even if it was their parents choice. If thy took that choice when you were a wee young thing, you still get to identify as you want. Much like you did.
And those who identify as a Pom and then as a Kiwi? Like Case Sensitive? Hey it is no frigging big deal to me. I know I was born here, my parents were born here and my child was born here. I can supply the 5 generations blah blah if you want. I can also acknowledge that I’m 2nd generation on the other side of the family.
Either way I’m Pakeha. That makes me White-Kiwi, not white anywhere else. OHHHHHHH YAY a big to do about nothing? YEP.
But the question was how I identified myself. The answer? Kiwi and Pakeha…and happy.
My parents and older brothers are from Belfast, Northern Ireland, but because Northern Ireland was, untill recently, part of the British Empire we referred to ourselves as British. Now of course we can legally say we are Irish, which sounds more exotic.
Somewhere along to line the family line came from Scotland, I think it was a great Grandfather or something.
I, myself, refer to myself purly as Canadian. I was born here, I’ll probably die here. It is the only country and culture I know so Candian it is.
Of course if you put it all together, Irish, Scottish and Canadian I suppose I can tell people I’m a cheap drunk, eh!
Nobody was saying you shouldn’t be happy saying you’re Pakeha, calm kiwi. And I’m pleased for you (you’ve emphasised your happiness so much in this thread, it’s only right to be pleased for you.) But you did seem surprised that there are New Zealanders of pale complexion who call themselves “New Zealanders” first, and perhaps Pakeha way down the track.
I have a fairly boring ancestry, probably; I can trace my Icelandic family back to the 13th century at the very least. Haven’t tried much further.
I should probably identify with Scandinavians but I don’t, really; especially not our forefathers the Norwegians, who might just as well be a different species. I’d therefore probably define myself as standard, anti-semitic white Eurotrash, immensely proud of my scarcely populated, obscure frozen rock in the middle of nowhere.
My father is of Czech ancestry on both sides. His parents were both born in the USA, but their parents all came over from Bohemia and Moravia when those lands were part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
My mother’s father was of German-speaking stock, with both Switzerland and present-day Deutschland contributing to his DNA. Mom’s mother was French on her father’s side, German on her mother’s. There’s also some British Isles blood ocoursing through Mom’s, and therefore my veins. We’re not sure if the correct combination is English, Scottish, and Irish or English and Scots Irish. Some of Mom’s ancestors were in North America by the time of the American Civil War, while her maternal grandmother was a six-year-old orphan who had been promised a job as a servant girl when she made the crossing in the late nineteenth century.
If thy took that choice when you were a wee young thing, you still get to identify as you want. Much like you did.