It happens almost everyday. Someone asks me "where are you from?" Depending on my mood, I say, "Florida" or "Missouri" or "from my mother's womb". In most instances, I say "Florida" and like clockwork I hear, "No, where are you REALLY from?" By now, I know that means that they were expecting me to name a country or an island rather than a U.S. State. So I say, I am American. Here's comes more questions....
"No way, really? or "Well, where are your parents from?" or my personal favorite "You shouldn't be ashamed of your heritage"
I am pegged for Somalian, Ethiopian, Indian, Carribean, Morrocan and various countries in West Africa..... and I would be proud of that, if in fact, I could trace my ancestry there.
But the truth is, by all rights, I am an AMERICAN mutt. My family came from the back woods of Alabama as far as I can trace. I am guessing before then, my ancestors were somewhere in West Africa, but who knows for sure? I wish I did.
I know that there is a little bit of Causacian mixed in (very little) and for everyone that wonders I am not PART INDIAN. I don't know why or how I have "good hair" or why I have orange undertones. That is how I was made. (Don't even get me started on the "good hair" thing).
There is a part of me that is scared to leave the States, because they may not let me back in.... perhaps I will have to work a little bit of that Southern charm to convince people that I am indeed American.....
Monday, October 04, 2004
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