Welcome to the United States

[originally posted on another of my blogs on July 24, 2013]

My husband sent a text message to a wrong number today. Innocent mistake. This is the response he got.

"Welcome to the United States of America. If you live here, learn to speak f**ing English" 

(censor added)

What solicited such a hostile response? A simple message asking about a ride to work. Oh, and part of it was in Spanish. 

I've been mulling over in my head exactly how this text makes me feel. My husband is an immigrant from Lima, Peru. He has been in the United States for a little over a year. I was born and raised in Southern California, I moved to Utah with my family when I was 15, and I'm about as "white" as you can get. I descend from Swedes, English, French, Germans, and who knows what else. However, I am just as likely to write a similar text message (and mine would probably all be in Spanish) and accidentally send it to the wrong number.

So how would our overly enlightened American friend have responded if I had sent the message? Well, I imagine he would have responded in exactly the same way, since you can't really tell anything about a person through a text as simple as, "Hey man, do you know who I'm riding with today?" Unless, of course, it's in another language. More importantly if it's in Spanish. Then you know a whole lot about the person, right? 

I've thought of a million responses I would LOVE to send to our anonymous pen pal, our hospitable representative of the American welcoming committee. My husband won't let me send any. Not even a small one like, "Ever heard of being bilingual?" or "I already speak English, you douche bag."

In writing this blog, I came across an article entitled, "The United States Doesn't Have an Official Language." Which is a fact that apparently many people don't know, or simply choose to ignore. I read one of the comments at the end of the article. I literally laughed out loud.

"I think people should have the right to speak their language in their home, however, in public places the language should be english and the signs should be in english.

We are losing the significance of the United States of AMERICA!"

(Read more at http://www.todayifoundout.com/index.php/2012/08/the-united-states-doesnt-have-an-official-language/#C68zOQF6HflXlfko.99)

I laughed because of the emphasis on the word AMERICA. First off, let's think about where the word America even comes from. Amerigo Vespucci, an Italian explorer, stated that the West Indies and Brazil were actually a brand new separate land mass, rather than the outskirts of Asia, as thought initially by Columbus. The American continent, and subsequently the independent country of The United States of America, received their names from him. So if we are going to get back to the significance of AMERICA, let's all learn Italian.

Secondly, America describes three different regions: North America, South America, and Central America (oh, and let's not forget American Samoa! Where there is an official language, and it is not English). So, again, epic fail on calling on Saint America to back you up on your, "English is the only language that should be spoken publicly in the United States" crusade. 

To be concise, I've thought a lot about what I want to get from writing this blog. I'm sick of just ranting and venting about injustice and ignorance purely for the sake of ranting and venting. The only way to rid ourselves of ignorance is by combating it with knowledge. So, do me a favor? Let everyone know The United States of America was named after an Italian, primarily inhabited my Native Americans (if that is still the politically correct term), and then overrun by IMMIGRANTS from all over the world. So let's get over ourselves and go learn another language! Or at least tolerate those who speak one. 

[POST SCRIPT]

I truly DO understand the frustration met by those who are trying to communicate with others and cannot do so because of language barriers. My husband and I were checking out at Sears the other day, and the lady in front of us was trying to speak Spanish to the cashier, who obviously did not know a baño from a burrito. Of course this is frustrating; it was probably equally as frustrating to both women. The point I am trying to make is not that we radically change everything about our country for the sake of purposely confusing all of those who are not fortunate enough to be bilingual, but rather that we have a little more patience and understanding when those kind of circumstances do arise.

American Girl

pa·tri·ot·ism

 [pey-tree-uh-tiz-uhm or, esp. British, pa-]  Show IPA

noun

devoted love, support, and defense of one's country; national loyalty.

I vaguely remember a history class from high school on the subject of nation building. One of the ways that leaders would build up and fortify their fledgling nations would be by encouraging patriotism. This was often accomplished by creating a national identity for all persons living within the often arbitrary borders of a new nation or country, regardless of diversity.

The problem with national identities is that they don’t leave much room for diversity. Because the whole point of creating a unified national identity in order to promote patriotism is to show your citizens that they are very much the same, have them identify with each other, and thus with their country.

The biggest challenge in creating a national identity is that it’s not very easy to generalize every physical, emotional, and philosophical characteristic of a population of billions of individuals. Or rather, it IS easy, but seldom, if ever, correct.

For example, when I think of Sweden, I think of blonde people. I don’t really know where I got that stereotype from, but it’s stuck with me for a long type. I’ve only ever met one Swede before, and she was blonde. But I bet I could find a ton of other people in Sweden who are not blonde.

National identity has always been something I’ve struggled with. I grew up in a small(ish) town in Southern California called Mira Mesa, where a great majority of residents are Asian. I remember coming home from kindergarten and asking my mom if I could dye my hair black because I was the only blonde in my class. I also remember my seventh grade science teacher, Mrs. Ki, starting off class each day by inviting everyone to tell blonde jokes (again, with me being the only blonde in that particular class).

I don’t know if that is where I began to develop this idea that national identities are rather superficial. I certainly didn’t feel like I belonged (at least in physical appearance) to the majority of kids in school. And yet, some of my best friends were Chinese, Filipino, and Vietnamese. My favorite food was lumpia and we sang karaoke at everyone’s birthday party (except mine, hahaha).

American Girl

There’s been this song playing on the radio a lot lately. Its lyrics and especially its title got me thinking again about national identity.

The song is called “American Girl” by Bonnie McKee. Here are some of her lyrics:

I fell in love in a 7/11 parking lot

Sat on the curb drinking slurpees we mixed with alcohol

We talked about all our dreams and how we would show 'em all (whoa oh oh oh)

…

I just keep moving my body (yeah)

I'm always ready to party (yeah)

No I don't listen to mommy (yeah)

And I'll never say that I'm sorry

Oh I'm an American girl

Hot blooded and I'm ready to go I'm loving taking over the world

Hot blooded, all american girl (Whoa)

I was raised by a television

Everyday is a competition

Put the key in my ignition (Oh-way-oh)

I wanna see all the stars and everything in between

I wanna buy a new heart out of a vending machine

Cause It's a free country so baby we can do anything (Whoa)

Just a silly song, right? But some phrases really caught my attention-- “I was raised by a television”-- “Everyday is a competition”-- “Cause it’s a free country so we can do anything.”

This is how one person identifies herself as an American. But...I’m an American right? I mean, I was born in the United States and I’ve lived here most of my life. Yet, I don’t really identify with anything in her song (except maybe 7/11...who doesn’t love a good slurpee?)

Real Miss America

Then I started thinking about some recent events I’ve seen in the news. I won’t go into them in detail, but I’ll leave some links in case you don’t know what I’m talking about.

Miss America 2014 (Nina Davuluri)

Marc Anthony Singing God Bless America at the MLB All-Star Games

Sebastien de la Cruz singing National Anthem at the NBA Finals

In each one of these events, someone received a lot of criticism for not living up to someone else’s idea of the American national identity. That arbitrary, superficial national identity that may be somewhat prevalent. In fact, someone even took the time to show what a real American looks like.

If that is the criteria, they might as well kick me out of the country right now.

National Identity vs. Personal Identity

Now, back to this idea of national identity. I understand its importance in a way. Everyone wants something to belong to, something to identify with. My husband lights up every time he meets a fellow Peruvian here, because they have things in common; they have a shared national identity. But when we let national identity overrule the right to have a personal identity, it has gone wrong.

About a year and a half ago I was talking to a coworker about movies. She said I should watch Captain America because it was a great movie. But then she added hesitantly, “Although, I don’t know if you would like it because its really patriotic.”

Somehow in the months that we had known each other, I had inadvertently convinced my coworker that I was not patriotic and maybe even “un-American.” It might have been because I’d married someone from a different country. Maybe because I have this weird fascination with other countries, especially Latin America. Or maybe because I often complained about our retarded immigration policies, and how difficult it had been for my husband to legally get here.

Calling someone “un-American” is a ridiculous concept because the whole idea of one true national identity is just bunk. You can describe things that were invented in the United States, you can recite different historical events that might bring us together, but if you base a national identity, especially in the United States, on the color of someone’s skin, their religion (or lack thereof), their country of origin, or their opinion on anything, you are just wrong. Especially the opinion one. Even the comparatively few governing leaders of our country aren’t unified on that one.

We need to stop putting so much emphasis on our personal opinion of what an “American” looks like or talks like or thinks like, and focus more on working together despite differences. And celebrating differences! Because really, when you color a picture with just one color crayon, it’s pretty boring. If you pull out the whole box, it gets much more interesting.

One Last Thought

This is Lucia.

Lucia is my adorable 4 month old daughter. She is American by birth (because she was born in the United States and so was her mommy). She is also Peruvian, by virtue of her birth to one Peruvian parent (my husband) and the fact that we registered her birth with the Peruvian consulate so she can have dual-citizenship.

I want my daughter to understand and learn about her Peruvian heritage and her American heritage. I want her to be able to identify with as many people as she can. This will be accomplished through teaching her and exposing her to a few different national identities. However, first and foremost I want her to know that she is a daughter of God, a daughter of Diego and Hannah Cabrera, and her own individual person. This will help her to create her own individual identity.

Don’t let people’s individual identity exclude them from your concept of national identity. Instead, let each individual identity contribute to a grander, broader, and more accepting national identity. 

Oh, and God bless America!!