Self Identification II

On Saturday I was hanging out with my parents. They are the definition of cool old people. Well, aging, they're not old yet. They both have a knack for having open minds and knowing what needs to be said, so, they wind up being my counselors more often than either probably realizes. For those of you who haven't met my parents, I could spend pages and pages trying to describe them to you, which I'm not going to do. Sorry.

So, anyway, Saturday night. My folks and I were lounging around their den(which is much more comfortable now that it's brown and earthy colors instead of pink) drinking various liquors. Our conversation meandered across diverse topics, as they always do, ranging from theology and morality to political events, from music history to ways to make toast taste better. In an at least half-drunken whimsy, I mused out loud that I was disgusted by the level of racism still prevalent in society, and wondered how it could perpetuate itself continually. Towards the end of my mini-rant, I exasperated, "I don't feel white, how could I hold it against someone that they weren't white?"

My father grinned slightly like this was a topic of discussion he had known would come some day, but, it was my mother who spoke up.

"That's because you aren't white." She caught me off guard, since I was looking at Dad, "At least, you don't have a white heritage. I was always jealous of my friends who were Italian, or Polish, or German when I was growing up. It always seemed like they had such a place, a home they belonged to. I never had that."

"I don't feel jealous as much as disgusted." I turned around to face her, "I think it's wrong to maintain little circles designed to keep other people out."

"Maybe it's some kind of evolutionary protective mechanism." Mom grinned and finished off her white russian.

"Well, maybe it's just the way you guys raised us(my sister and me) listening to Mo-town and jazz and blues, and feeding us enchiladas and nachos every chance you had. I feel American, and, I think that's better than being white." I somehow got out around a fresh mouthful of triscut crackers and rum.

"It's good to know we did something right."



All conversations subject to artistic license associated with alcohol consumption