I’m so proud to accept this award...
I am no longer a white man. I’m really more of a pinkish-beige. After a good sunburn I’m a bright lobster-red. I’m not white. People with albinism aren’t really white either. A piece of typing paper is white. The cream filling in an Oreo cookie is white. The cream filling in a Twinkie is white. The powdery coating on the inside of a frosted light bulb is white. I’m not white. Cherokee Indians aren’t really red, nor are Chinese people or Communists. People from Africa aren’t really black, they come in a myriad different shades.
Calling me white is insensitive to my cultural background. I don’t think I’m caucasian either. That word is a derivative of Caucasia, a geographic region in southeast Europe between the Black and Caspian Seas. The Caucasus Mountains are in Caucasia. Parts of Russia, Georgia, Azerbaijan, and Armenia are in the Caucasus Mountains. None of my people came from there.
My people are Krauses, Coopers, Knoxes, Hummers, Reeds, and Westons to name a few. Primarily from England and Germany. Some of the English part of the family comes from Uxbridge near London, England. I’m not sure where the German part comes from. My English ancestors arrived in North America long before the German side. My Great Grandparents were all born in the U.S.
From now on, whenever I have to fill out a form indicating race, I’m going to write-in in the “other” box, European American. Why not? There are lots of people here whose people have been here longer than mine who call themselves Something-or-Other Americans. Why can’t I? I feel so much better now that I’m now a member of an ethnic group. Come and join me, we’ll have picnics, festivals, and our own awards shows. I can’t wait for the annual European American of the Year Awards. We’ll call it the Erpaman.
Calling me white is insensitive to my cultural background. I don’t think I’m caucasian either. That word is a derivative of Caucasia, a geographic region in southeast Europe between the Black and Caspian Seas. The Caucasus Mountains are in Caucasia. Parts of Russia, Georgia, Azerbaijan, and Armenia are in the Caucasus Mountains. None of my people came from there.
My people are Krauses, Coopers, Knoxes, Hummers, Reeds, and Westons to name a few. Primarily from England and Germany. Some of the English part of the family comes from Uxbridge near London, England. I’m not sure where the German part comes from. My English ancestors arrived in North America long before the German side. My Great Grandparents were all born in the U.S.
From now on, whenever I have to fill out a form indicating race, I’m going to write-in in the “other” box, European American. Why not? There are lots of people here whose people have been here longer than mine who call themselves Something-or-Other Americans. Why can’t I? I feel so much better now that I’m now a member of an ethnic group. Come and join me, we’ll have picnics, festivals, and our own awards shows. I can’t wait for the annual European American of the Year Awards. We’ll call it the Erpaman.
posted by steve | 5:54 PM
4 Comments:
I'm with ya. I refer to my family as UK Americans since we're mostly English, Irish, Scottish, and Welsh. We were asked to leave and were NOT asked if we could swim, if ya know what I mean. My ancestors were here before the Revolution so I could be a member of the DAR, but they would never have me. But if you've seen my lily white skin, I'm pretty white!
In high school, I started attending the annual Martin Luther King walks. It became a tradition that I continued with my children. Always, there was a pickup truck playing a recording of the “I Have a Dream” speech followed by a sea of chocolate. (I admit that I was always somewhat of an oddity with my blond hair betraying my Bavarian heritage.) When Nicholas was 4 years old, we were walking behind the pick up truck when suddenly he came running up to me. “Mommy, tell him it’s not true -- tell him I’m not white; tell him I’m beige.” The boy with him, probably not much more than 7, replied: “Your white, I’m black and that’s the way it is.”
Lana
Well, I'm not white, black or beige. I think I'm olive brown if there is such a color. Comes from the Lebanese in me. My mom's Irish and Scotch and English but I got my skin color from my dad. I like my skin color, much more interesting than Lana's. (a joke)
The beige came from the crayola box. Nicholas asked me what the color was that said "flesh" – it was a kind of pinky beige and probably the ugliest color in the box. I wonder if they still have that color or if crayons have entered the world of the "politically correct".
lana
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