A Melting Pot with a Lot of Potatoes

When you're in grade school you learn the term "melting pot".  America is always referred to as a melting pot.  A rich amalgamation of different races, cultures, and creeds.   America was the land that took in the outcasts of society or, in some cases, were sent the outcasts of society.  You could practice the religion of your choice in America, you could get a better job in America, and you could live under a Democracy in America.  People flocked to this country as it was just beginning to toddle about.

Now, if ever a person epitomized that melting pot idea, it might very well be me.  I grew up knowing that I was Irish and Italian, at least.  My grandmother's father was Lawrence (actually Lorenzo) and my grandmother's mother was Susie, a fair skinned woman with red hair.  I was blessed to know both of my great-grandparents and I have fond memories of delicious pesto and some not so fond memories of getting my chubby prepubescent cheeks pinched.  Because I knew them, I knew that tiny bit of heritage.



As I got older I learned more about my history through another great grandparent.  (I was a lucky girl, I know.)   From my Grandma Flo I learned that my great-great-great etc. grandpa was the first English speaking white man to show up in the Bay Area and that he married the daughter of a Spanish general.  I learned I had some Spanish heritage, and a bit more Irish from her hubby.

As I got into college I became very interested in working on my family tree.  Ancestry.com has been a wonderful resource for me in being able to track family back to the 1800's.  Then my father's aunt gave me all of her family research which showed some of my family on that side being in the United States as early as the 1500's.  Over the years I've worked on my family tree and I've actually pinpointed the actual percentages of my heritage:

25% Irish
18.12% English
12.5% Scottish
12.5% Italian
6.25% Polish
3.12% French
1.56% Cherokee
1.56% Spanish
.39% Swiss
.12% Dutch
.1% Swedish
and
15.65% unknown

*Yes, I know that doesn't add up to 100, but it's late and it's hard to go that far back.  I've had family in the US since the beginning of white colonization.  Please forgive.
**As a result, I think a lot of the unknown are English and Irish.  Most of the time when I run out of records it's an Irish or English name and some of the people go so far back that the only option is English.

Not only have a pinpointed my heritage, I've also discovered my direct ancestors were in Salem for the witch trials and in Plymouth within 5 years of the Mayflower.  Pretty cool.

But back to the melting pot concept, you can see that I'm all sorts of mixed up.  A mainly western European mix however.  I also have a mix of religions in my background, mainly Catholic thanks to the Irish, but also Quaker way back when.  I have ancestors who have been here since the 1600's and others who only got off the boat 100 years ago.

Although I think it's really cool that I have all these different heritages, and although I'm proud of them, I do sometimes wish that wasn't the case.  I like my country, but at the same time I feel like it would be so extraordinary to live in a country that has a 1000 year history.  I feel myself searching for a shared history.  Americans don't have that, or rather they do, just a very brief one. 

As a result, I've been drawn to Irish culture for as long as I can remember.  It might be my freckles and light eyes.  My love of cows.  My love of Irish names.  My love of green grass, or any number of things.  No matter the cause, I've always been fascinated with Ireland.  It's the first thing I state when people ask my heritage.

When I finally went to Ireland in 2009 I fell in love.  I didn't notice the rain.  I didn't notice the lack of sun.  I fell in love with the history: old buildings, different language, beautiful parks.  I fell in love with the people who looked more like me and sometimes shared my love of swearing (especially the cabbies).  The meat was the best meat of my life and the pastries at Queen of Tarts were the best I've ever had.  I talk with the hubby about going back and know that we will go back at least once more.

I feel Irish.  I look Irish.  I crave Ireland.  I might only be a quarter Irish, but I am definitely Irish at heart.

Sometimes people claim that I don't count as Irish because it's such a small amount.   Or that everyone claims to be Irish it's just a fad.  To that I say Póg Mo Thón!