I was born in South Korea, a country who at that time decided I didn’t belong because of the American nationality of my father. He is an American of Irish decent. Ireland is the country that whenever I visit and tell people my family is from Kilkenny wraps me in open arms. I’m heralded with exclamations of “welcome home!” and sometimes regaled with stories of my family’s prowess on the hurling pitch. Contrast that to my life in the USA, a country I have been a part of since before birth and lived in since early childhood; a nation my ancestors literally helped found by fighting for her freedom and establishing her as an country independent of British rule. Not a year goes by without some other American asking me where I am from. Nevermind my great great aunt traced our lineage back to the Revolution; to many other fellow citizens, I am still see as an “outsider.” The last time I was asked the question of “where are you from,” I attempted to bypass the true notion of the question with the response of, “I live in Memphis.” This past May, I dodged the follow up of, “Sure, but where are you REALLY from, with “I grew up in Nashville. I know, my lack of a Southern accent can really throw people off.” I did not have the grace nor patience to deal with his bigotry.
But here’s the thing. I believe he was a nice guy. No, he will probably never openly welcome anyone who looks like me like the Irish do. As much as I would love to be seen as an American by most White Americans, I accept I am welcomed more in Ireland, having never lived there, then a I am by White America. It doesn’t matter to White America that my ancestor established this Nation because they don’t see me as part of the American narrative. So indulge me for a moment and examine the American narrative with me.
We call ourselves the “home of the brave” but what’s so brave about shooting up a Wal-Mart of families shopping for school supplies because the nationalities of the families is questioned? What is so brave about spewing racial hate instead of confronting our fears of losing our status in our communities to others? What is so brave about hiding behind the bigoted racial hate speech of party leaders instead of standing up for the values of our Nation and putting Country before Party? What is so brave about putting children in cages instead of acknowledging the complex and complicate story of making an economy which functions for all of us, immigrant and native born alike? What is so brave about blaming video games for gun violence instead of having the difficult conversations about our gun culture and the responsibilities one must put in place to maintain the Second Amendment? What is so brave about vilifying and othering people who don’t look like you or belong to a different party than treating them with the dignity of being another human being?
I am tired. I tired of defending my “Americanness” to a group of people who don’t even realize America wouldn’t exist if not for my ancestors and their like minded compatriots. I am tired of defending my belong to a group of immigrants who landed here after my ancestors, even if they look more “white” than I do. My family has literally been here longer, but because I don’t look like they do, they question MY belonging. No more. If you do not stand up to hate, to bigotry, to racism, to partisanship, then you are the problem. Your complacency and silence breeds hate. It breed racism. It breeds partisanship. It breeds fear. It breeds slavery of your mind. We are the home of the free. We are the home of the brave. You are either with this national democratic experiment, pushing partisanship aside, or you are against all of the values that make America the exceptional experiment and beacon of hope it is. Chose your side wisely. History will judge you; and do not ever ask me or anyone else of color where we are from. Just don’t.
A better question, from a place of genuine curiosity of seeking common ground is, “So where’s your hometown?” Then, just roll with it. Go forth and be an enigma with us.
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