American Identity: From the Philippines to Fredonia

American Identity:  From the Philippines to Fredonia

Mikiharu Holst

Long flights are never fun and those flights around 20 hours long are especially bad. I was living in the Philippines before I came to Fredonia and my family had been travelling around the world for a long time. My father and siblings have American citizenship like me, but my mom is a Japanese citizen and has a green card to live in the States. Since we travel a lot on government orders for my father's work, she gets a somewhat free pass with issues of refreshing it and having to deal with some problems with moving in and out of the country. If the government didn’t give some leeway to families that had to travel, that would be terrible.

            Anyway, at the immigration counter in Detroit where they check your passports and what-not, the guy who was manning that desk was telling my mother she couldn’t go on. He said her card was expired and she couldn’t go on. My mother tried to explain that because of her husband’s orders… And he cut her off. He kept saying that it didn’t matter about him and his citizenship, because she wasn’t a citizen and needed to update her card. She knows how this works, I mean she’s been doing this for years, but the jerk wouldn’t listen and was just being rude. It was incredibly frustrating to say the least. We had a flight in about an hour and a half, which is not much time in airports, and this was a hassle we really didn’t need to deal with. Eventually he sent us over to another desk, I can’t remember what it was called, but they dealt with these problems more in-depth so the rest of the people could get through. The new guy understood what the problem was and knew that she didn’t have to jump through hoops to travel in the US. So luckily we managed to go on without much hassle after that. He talked a little bit about maybe refreshing it soon, but that it cost money that would be unnecessary to spend while she didn’t need to. We made our flight and now I’m here in Fredonia attending college. This experience made me really think about what it means to be American.

            Just looking at how the two different immigration workers in the airport treated my mother gave me a sharp contrast in how Americans can act. One was incredibly rude and dismissive of someone who wasn’t American. The other helped as best he could and offered advice on how to best deal with the situation we found ourselves in. Immigration is the first thing that people see when they enter a country and as I’m effectively new to the US, this was my first glimpse at America. It wasn’t a great introduction to American society, but the help of the other worker helped to make it better. In Beyond Citizenship, Peter Spiro talks about American citizenship and the devaluing of American citizenship. This probably applied in my situation with immigration as the first man obviously feels strongly about American citizenship and how my mother didn’t want to become an American citizen. This is because Japan only lets you have one citizenship; you can have dual citizenship if you're born with both, but you have to pick Japan or whichever other country you’re tied to before you turn 22. Her parents, my grandparents, are Japanese and live in Japan so she is not going to give up her citizenship when she can just get a green card to live in the States. Spiro says the value of American citizenship has gone down, and while it may have gone down a bit, I believe that being American is still valuable.

My name is Mikiharu Holst and I’m half American and half Japanese. I’ve lived in many places around the world and have in turn experienced a lot. I was born in the States but I’ve spent more time overseas than I have in the US. In total I’ve only lived in the US for four years. My time in Japan and Israel has been more memorable than the few years I’ve had in the states. Moving around so much has made it that I don’t, or can’t, say “back home” in reference to the States. “Back home” happens to be wherever my family happens to be at the moment. The location of “home” shifts every few years and that’s normal for me. As moving to a new country is a more drastic change than moving to a new house in the neighborhood or to the next state, I’d say that my life has been different than many Americans. This has also lead me to less American interaction overall, as living in other countries has limited it to people in similar circumstances to me. Japan is the place I’ve lived the longest and could possibly be called home, but I don’t think there is any country I can really dub “home.”

While I don’t have a home, I’ve developed as a person throughout my life. I can say what kind of person that I am. I’m a nice guy, not outgoing, attempt to be funny but often fail miserably (sometimes in a way that ends up being amusing), pretty lazy, and a bunch of other descriptors that I could spout. Figuring out what kind of person I am isn’t something that just clicked one day. I’ve learned and relearned what kind of person I am throughout the years. It’s a bit harder to define what I am in regards to national identity, even after my 19 years on this planet.

Race is often used to guess roughly where someone is from. You take that, compare it to their clothes and what they have and you start forming opinions. Even if it’s not conscious, we all stereotype in one way or another and we apply that to how we look at the person. This could lead to a guess to them being from Kenya, China, or England. It’s terribly inefficient though. People from all races can be found all over the world. The US is also pretty diverse so that can throw a wrench into some guesswork. Drawing a conclusion of nationality from race doesn’t work. Matthew Frye Jacobson has a part in Whiteness of a Different Color where he quotes Smith and his students. One student was saying how anyone could tell that he was Greek just by looking at him. The student he asked said she didn’t know that the other student was Greek before he told the class he was. If you stand in front of a stranger and study them for a minute, will you be able to see what nationality they are? No. I can’t look in a mirror and see what my nationality is and I can’t look at someone else and instantly know theirs. So while we are legally born with a nationality, that doesn’t really mean anything. People aren’t born patriotic to a nation. You don’t even know what a nation is yet. Identity has to be found.

            I could just look at my race and then turn to my passports and stop there. If someone asks me what my nationality is I can just whip out my passports. “Look at these and it’ll tell you what I am. Ignore any preconceptions and doubts you may have, reader of my passport; you can now see that I am American and Japanese.” But wait, this doesn’t always work for people. It doesn’t work for me. While I do identify as American and Japanese, it’s not because my passports tell me that. There are people who don’t feel like they’re a part of the country they are officially a part of. Other people feel like they have a certain nationality even when they don’t have it officially. Having that little book is very useful if you want to travel and various other things requiring identification. I get to visit my family after this semester ends because my passport will let me fly over and visit them for winter break. People couldn’t travel around the world and see new places and experience different things without passports, but they don’t make your identity.

            Still, passports can help you figure out your identity. Typically this would happen by letting you travel and the experience would help you out. I’ve travelled all over the world because of it and I’ve dealt with many kinds of people. Europe, the Middle East, Japan, and the Philippines all act differently. Being in these places gave me experience with the rest of the world and how it acts. Many things are different overseas and many things can end up similar. Obvious things like language matter little and a lot. People are people regardless of what language they speak, but not speaking the same language can cause barriers to appear. In the Philippines they speak English but Tagalog is mixed in liberally to make a unique blend of Tagalog and English. It can vary depending on who you speak to and where you are in how much languages are mixed or used. This fusion of two languages is vastly different than in the US where speaking multiple languages is promoted, and bashed, at the same time.

Language also influenced my views on my identity, albeit indirectly. I can only speak English, even though I learned Spanish as a young child and Japanese in school while I lived in Japan. I forgot basically all the Spanish I knew within a couple weeks of leaving Mexico. Japanese went away slower, but I’d also not learned it as well as I had Spanish as a young child. I probably forgot the bulk of my Japanese knowledge more slowly than I did Spanish because we use a small amount of Japanese around the house; we occasionally talked with our grandparents on the phone(who only speak Japanese) and watched anime. I know a few words and how to count but I can’t really communicate with anyone in Japanese beyond rudimentary statements. While I still love my Japanese side, my inability to understand and speak Japanese effectively locks me out of truly identifying as Japanese. I like to say I’m half Japanese and its definitely a part of me, but my American side is more prominent because of this.

Cultures of other nations can give a stark contrast, or eerie similarity, to the one you’re used to. While I didn’t really live in America long enough to really grasp American society, I’ve lived around Americans overseas and have been in American International Schools. I think one of my most interesting experiences with culture was my trip to Qatar. Qatar was only going to take a few days as I was only there for an MUN (Model United Nations) conference. I flew in from Israel, so we had to do a somewhat roundabout flight to avoid problems with that. Right away my trip to Qatar made me think about what being an American meant. Just flying from Israel is enough to make it so the flight has to be in a somewhat roundabout way that avoids nations that aren’t really on friendly terms with Israel. While not everyone loves America, we don’t have to deal with as many people outright hating our guts. Landing then leads to customs and immigrations where having an Israeli passport lead to more scrutiny. A couple people were pulled aside for a more thorough check, being hassled for things on their passport, although overall the treatment was less severe than the year before. This is the main part where I saw what being Israeli meant to other people and I compared it to my treatment then and now. After the airport, most of my experiences and comparisons that I draw from Qatar stems from comparing the culture there to American culture. In a way it was very similar, but again very different. Many women wore traditional garb yet fashion stores could be found in malls. The mall I went to is an incredible mall that is fancy. It had a canal that ran through much of the mall, complete with gondolas. It had an ice rink, IMAX 3D, and of course McDonalds. A mall as massive and filled as this is something that many people consider “American” with consumerism and burgers, also had strong Islamic ties. It was a unique experience to me and was very interesting to say the least. The US has, relative to some countries in the Middle East, pretty strong ties to Qatar so it might not be too much of a surprise to see “American” things, but the contrast was still fascinating.

            When I think of my identity in the sense of being American, I look at my life experiences and who I am to try and determine that. I’ve only lived in the US for four years in total and this freshman year in college will be my fifth. I’ve lived in Bolivia, Mexico, Japan, Israel, and the Philippines. I’ve also visited Qatar, Rome, Vienna, Paris, and other airports around the world. Seeing the world is a rare opportunity and I grew up with it. I’ve dealt with people in other nations having to deal with me, an American, which puts some more perspective onto my life. When I compare how the people are in most of these nations to how many Americans I’ve met and know, I start to think that I am pretty American. While it’s not a universal template, many Americans are pretty nice and go out of their way to help a stranger. At least, this is an aspect of Americans that I think I have. And that is how it ended up becoming for me. Travel forces perspective onto you as you see the rest of the world. Japan is a good place for this to happen. At least for me. The American environment through the housing and schools gave me a more grounded and familiar place to live. But I’d step outside and be in a whole new world and could see the differences right away. Home wasn’t a copy of American life, but it had many aspects and the bases were pretty similar. I could just look at the movie theaters and see differences between Japan and America. Simple things like movie seats being something you just picked in the American theaters while you were assigned them in Japanese ones. I could find food that is usually only readily available in America and was “rare” in Japan. Caprisun was surprisingly popular among my friends and I’d trade with them during lunches. The, in a way, easy access to America through the bases enabled me to stay grounded and explore the country easily.

            Sum up everything that’s happened to me during my life and all the things I’ve done and experienced and you build up my identity. I view myself as an American, with Japanese parts, a nice guy, atheist, person who’s seen much of the world, a gamer, and human. My life has seen a host of experiences in my travels, mistakes, and adventures. If I had to I might be able to narrow down how I exactly define what my identity is, but I feel like my identity is malleable and can easily get modified. Some of the basics stay the same, which would be the things I listed before this, but overall my identity is not something I can really define yet. But the things I listed at the start of this paragraph are some of the most important parts of my identity. Family influenced me but they’re not my identity. Being American is an important part of me as I love my country. My Japanese side as well is something that I appreciate a lot and enjoy. Experience and having been in a good amount of the world has a lot of sway for me. I’m human with all my mistakes and achievements. My gamer part isn’t just saying that playing games is an important part of who I am but it is also how I can describe the kind of things I like among other things. But simply being a nice guy is the most important thing to me. I can be a dick sometimes and am not always cheerful or nice, but I try. Being nice is something I want to be, so I try and be it.

             America is a great country and I believe it’s the best in the world, even with all of our faults and imperfections. We try to be the best, not just in raw power, but in how we act and view the world. Some politicians and citizens might not follow that same train of thought, but the country as a whole tries. Aspiring to be what America stands for is what I believe is a core feature of what being American really is. You have to really want to be and try to be American. That doesn’t mean you have to attend rallies or do other crazy things to prove it. Simply wanting and trying to follow some of the ideals of the American dream or the principles that we stand for is enough in my book. Taking it too far still makes you an American, just a bad or stupid person. The ideals that America stands for probably differ person to person, but I think some of my thoughts on it might ring true for others. Tolerance and acceptance towards others of all kinds is something that I think America stands for. There of course is still racism and hatred towards certain groups in the US, but it is not supported. As America was built to greatness by a large assortment of people and groups, none can claim to be the real American way. The best and brightest Americans have roots from all over the world.  So with that in mind, I like to think America is the melting pot, as its been called, and that we are open to all and accepting of others.

            Beyond simply accepting others for their differences and looking at who they are as a person, I think Americans’ acting when needed is another important attribute. America acts when we think we’re needed to help out. While we have had misguided acts and aren’t always doing things for the right reasons, we still act where others don’t. If there is a problem we go out and try and fix it. This is something that should apply to smaller things than the acting of the country as a whole. I would hope that I would be able to follow my own directions if it ever came up for me to try and help stop a robber or other criminal. It’s a terrifying notion, but if people can’t even go out of their way to help someone who is literally right there in front of them, then we have no right to call ourselves a true American. Americans have pulled together in times of crisis, but there are also people who loot in those times and ignore crimes in front of them. Putting aside the examples of those who don’t follow the law or turn a blind eye to those who do, it is still an ideal that I think many people would like to follow. It’s difficult to judge how people would work with it, but it something that I could hope that more Americans would try and do.

            In addition to stepping up when it’s called for and being open and accepting to others, I think to be American you have to also try and achieve the American Dream. It’s something that has been a part of America for a long time. It comes in different phrases and can be described differently, symbolizing many American values and something we can aspire to no matter our social class. It isn’t an absolute idea and it isn’t perfect, but it extols great ideals and can encourage people to rise high above what they normally would think possible. Dreaming for greatness isn’t what is required, but getting to happiness via hard work or through your own means. Promoting that you can achieve what you want in life and the freedom of each person to do so. Pushing for individual freedoms is something that America has been doing for a while and the American Dream promotes freedom to succeed.

            Being American is important to many and it is important to me. It doesn’t rule my life, but I’d like to hold onto it if I can. When I look at the rest of my life and look it over it helps me reaffirm my American side, while I still embrace my Japanese side. I’ve gone from seeing American-like things overseas to being in America again. Returning to the States for college and reading non-fictional and fictional stories on what being an American means to people and what it means to be American, I’ve supplemented my experiences with these points of views and ideas. While I think that overall my ideas of what it means to be American hasn’t really changed too much over the course of the semester in American Identities, I’ve gotten more perspectives and could develop it some more. Being American is an important part of my identity, but to really reach that point I had to experience other things to figure out what being American means.

Questioning American Identity

Questioning American Identity

Anonymous

When I am asked to consider who I am and my personal identity many things pop in my head. But to be completely honest I’m still finding myself. I think twenty-one is a reasonable age to be learning and discovering who I am and who I will be.  There are many factors that play into any one person’s identity. The factors that have affected and shaped my identity thus far would have to be my upbringing and family life, as well as my interests and even somewhat where my family has come from.  Obviously there are many more factors that play into an identity such as religious beliefs, political views, and privileges you may or may not have had throughout your life.

            I grew up being the oldest of three children in a middle-class working family. My parents are still married, and getting to the end of raising their children. I am the oldest; however, I am also the only girl. Being the oldest meant I always got the harshest punishments, strictest rules, and was simply expected to do everything well, yet was never really rewarded for it. Now that my brothers are in high school, I see my parents easing up, and the rules are much less strict, though my brothers would beg to differ. However, being the only girl had its advantages, so for most things I was “deprived” of, being oldest, I gained in being the only daughter.

             My rules were something like this: if you get any grades less than an eighty-five you got a stern talking to, if they were any less than eighty I was grounded. Being grounded for me meant no T.V. or computer time, no going out with friends, no friends could come over, and as I got older it meant the cell phone was taken away for a month, I was not allowed to see or call boyfriends, and it seemed like a new punishment was added each time.  Now seeing my brothers put up a fight against my parents baffles me; their punishment consists of maybe a few days of being grounded which adds up to no PlayStation, or going out with friends, the end. My one brother is not a strong student, so as long as he gets a seventy-five or above it’s a good job, kid, maybe next time you can get an eighty.

             Other things that my parents did that played into how I am now were my dad’s interrogation questions. By that I mean if I had any desire to go somewhere or do something I got, in rapid fire, Where are you going? What time are you going? Who is going to be there? When are you going to be home? How are you getting home? What are you going to be doing there? Are parents going to be home there? Are you sure you don’t just want your friends to come here? And then finally if I were lucky he would surrender his tight grip and say “fine, be safe, don’t do stupid things, and be home on time.”

             While my dad was the interrogator who scared off boyfriends, and even girlfriends who he questioned, my mother was the one who forced us to be involved. Her rule was you must be involved in at least one sport, and when your sports season is over you have to pick up another or join clubs at school. Now she did not go as far as the Tiger Mother, Amy Chua, who wrote Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother and who chose her children’s activities for them, but she strictly enforced this rule for quite a while.  For me this was never a big deal because oddly enough I am the most competitive out of my brothers and I, so I was always interested in sports, and I loved being a part of teams.  I swam for the varsity swim team from seventh grade all the way through senior year of high school when I was the captain of the team. It was something I loved, something I was at least semi-good at, and I loved the competition. When I wasn’t on swim team, I was either practicing with the boy’s swim team for the hell of it, in a leadership club, or running meetings for art club.

I have always been in love with art even when I was younger. I was the kid who loved coloring and crafts, then I was one of very few kids in middle and high school who loved and took art class seriously, I never got bored when we went on field trips to the Albright-Knox Art Gallery in Buffalo, then I took AP Art in high school, and here I am, a Visual Arts and New Media major at SUNY Fredonia.  So in a way I’ve always kept art and creativity close to me, and hopefully that pays off when I graduate in the spring this year. Although I make my parents sound somewhat like hard-asses, they are not in all respects. Yes, they were tough on me, and while I hated that growing up, I’m starting to realize that it only helped me grow up, realize what was important, and it made me a tougher, stronger person in the end. But my parents have always been encouraging and strong believers in the notion of doing whatever is going to make us happy, of course within reason. While I know many parents would be extremely disappointed in their child going to school for Visual Arts, or as some of my friends tease me, being a “coloring major,” my parents have always supported me, my dad even helps me since he has an artistic eye, my mom does not always understand some of the art, but she too encourages, and she is very crafty so she is a help and inspiration as well. Not only did they get stuck with a daughter going to school to be a “coloring major,” now my brother is considering going to school for auto mechanics, as well--another field looked down upon by many hard-ass parents.  I suppose that’s why they had three kids; maybe my youngest brother will do something over-the-top impressive with his future.  But with that, all I’m saying is I have never felt low, or like what I’m doing is a disappointment or not good enough because my parents have always supported it; if I have felt low about my major in college it’s because of my school, and recent events taking place on campus which is a whole other story. So, as a senior in college I think most of what makes up my identity is my upbringing, my parents and family, as well as my interests and what I am pursuing in my life right now. 

However, it's not just my parents who been strong supporter of me; my whole family has. I have a very large family, and most people would think it to be strange how close I am to such extended members of my family. I still see my grandparents and a lot of my aunts, uncles and cousins every month. They all get excited when I bring new art pieces home that I’ve done, so overall I have a lot of fans. I love having a big, close-knit family because there is never a dull moment; it can be crazy, but I think having that has taught me to deal with chaos. The only downfall of being so close to your whole huge family is you have more to lose. And some of the losses my family have gone through recently have also changed who I am.  Now in some ways we like to compare ourselves to that crazy family in the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding because there’s a ton of us, we can be loud and quite chaotic, and there is always hands down an argument somewhere because my family is extremely stubborn. But instead our movie would be called My Big Fat German Wedding, or My Big Fat Czechoslovakian Wedding.  While most people my age do not really identify with their family’s nationality, I do somewhat.  Like Jacobson talks about in his book Whiteness of a Different Color: European Immigrants and the Alchemy of Race almost all of us are not true Americans, meaning most of our families immigrated to American a handful of generations ago, from various parts of the world.

On my mother’s side of the family we are predominantly German, making me more than a quarter German. On my father's side we are primarily Czechoslovakian. When I was younger we had to do several family trees, and family heritage projects, and I always found it awesome that I was Czechoslovakian for several reasons. One, it was a tricky word that most kids couldn’t say at the time and sure as hell couldn’t spell. Two, I could say it and spell it because my parents taught me. Three, I did not come across any other kids in any of those classes who were also Czechoslovakian.  So when it comes to that side of the family I suppose it is not so much that I identify with being Czechoslovakian since I do not know a whole lot about the culture or history other than the whole dispute where it was broken into The Czech Republic and Slovakia, but it's more something I thought was interesting about me. Now my mom’s side of the family is extremely German, and my grandpa is one hundred percent German and proud of it. He is someone who is proud to be American, mainly because he worked for Chevy, so he forces us to only buy American-made cars and all that, but you could also say that my grandfather is the stereotypical German man. He is as stubborn as they come, he is always right, and will argue and yell until that becomes known. He flies his German flag next to his American one. Now some of my family say this next trait is because he is German and others just say it's him being an old man, but he is a complete pack rat; he keeps everything. Last year I found this skateboard in the garage that was his when he was a little kid.  Now despite all the grief we give him he is also quite a good cook--of course of your German staples such as bratwurst. And if you didn’t think it could get more cliché he constantly buys this German beer, that I do admit is quite good, but also like triple the alcohol content of a normal beer. So overall I think I am a bit more in touch with my German side, because it is brought to my attention, and I am surrounded by it frequently.  So far, this is how I view my own identity, but I’m sure with age and experience I will discover more about who I am and where I am supposed to go in life.

            As any American citizen would know our government is capable of providing us with many privileges as well as it having many flaws. Many of which directly affect us, the people. Personally, one of my biggest problems with our government that has and is going to further affect me negatively is our health care system. Currently this is one thing that has been a large topic of debate but one of the most difficult things to change.  Currently our health care is left in the hands of those who decide who is accepted and denied to be covered with health insurance.  These individuals are cut-throat, and do not give a damn about us as the people.  If you have a preexisting condition, forget it you won’t be covered as an individual; if you withhold, or forget even the tiniest bit of information such as a small case of bronchitis on their interrogation-style paperwork, they will come up with an excuse to not cover you. These companies are professional excuse makers so that they do not have to spend money on you. On my seventeenth birthday I had to do a three-day sleep study. I was tested and diagnosed with epilepsy. At the time medication cost and health care coverage had not crossed my mind a whole lot seeing as I was covered under my parents still.  About a week later my dad opened my hospital bill, which was completely outrageous and sky-high. This puzzled me because both my parents work two or more jobs, and they both work within the medical field. I did not quite understand the justification to why my father, a family nurse practitioner, and my mother a surgical technician, could be stuck with such god-awful health insurance.

 I investigated some more about healthcare in the United States, and learned a lot about it in my high school government class, and the end result was my complete disgust and fear.  Why is it that if I had been born an hour north in Canada I would be covered for free no matter my illness?  Or in other countries such as China or Japan, they pay small copays but the government acts as a cushion for the rest of the money. Or other solutions such as being a doctor is not an all-mighty profession like it is here; in Britain the doctors do not get paid nearly as well, but due to their lower pay rates, and some help from government funding they are able to treat their patients without making them go bankrupt.  I have experience with a family friend who has bone and skin cancer. He has been in and out of hospitals fighting pneumonia in addition to his cancers; when he is well enough to leave the hospital he gets put in aftercare facilities. Recently, his health insurance said he is only covered at his aftercare place for a total of three more days. The hospital told him he was not sick enough to stay at the hospital for any longer, and he had no more time left covered at the aftercare place. He was stuck with no place to go.  His family couldn’t afford to keep him in an aftercare place so now they rotate taking care of him the best they can, which is completely altering their lives because they all have jobs, families, school and lives. Is this what we should really be reduced down to? Is this really how the land of opportunity treats you? Lucky for me Obama recently passed a new law saying that kids can be covered under their parents' health insurance up to age twenty-six. It was previously age twenty-three, which would mean that as I am getting out of school, if I did not find a job that could cover me with health insurance, I would be paying insane amounts of money to keep myself healthy and safe. No college graduate has extra money to shell out.  If that were to happen I would be paying a couple hundred dollars for my medication every month, this is a medication I cannot skip out on if I do not want to risk my health and safety. 

Another thing that crossed my mind is that in the future I had considered the option of opening my own company for design, and if I were to do that I would not be covered by an employer, so that is another situation where I could be left hanging. In the news there were stories about the Buffalo Public School system, and how the teachers have extremely good health coverage, meaning their coverage is so good that they can get breast implants and that would be covered in their insurance.  How is this justifiable by anyone? How can one person get an essentially free boob job while other people are out there dying because they cannot afford the cost of medication or treatment--they apparently cannot afford the cost of life? My question is, who has the right to decide this person can get some health insurance, and this person can’t, which, when boiled down is this person lives and this person dies? These companies are out for money and money only, whether it means costing people their lives or not. 

Another thing related to this that is on the rise is new drugs. While on one hand it is great that with new technology are able to come up with all these new drugs to help with various health problems, it is having an extremely negative impact on our society. Firstly, these drugs are not cures, they are merely temporary aids. Secondly, most of these new drugs have more side effects than it’s worth. (For example, I still question it, my epilepsy medication has a side effect of twitching…. Explain that one to me, I twitch, which ends up being diagnosed as epilepsy, they give me medication for it and it is one of the side effects. The only reason I do not question it is because for now it works, and if I do not take it then there would be some serious issues.) Finally, because so many new drugs are coming out, they are all advertised in every way possible, being we live in a technology-based society now. And because all these advertisements are directed towards us the people, we automatically think, Oh, maybe that’s what is wrong with me, and then these people go tell their doctors I need to be put on this medication. I thought it was the doctor’s job to be diagnosing the patient? Not the patient coming in saying I need this drug. Not only is it the patients, though, because there are pharmaceutical representatives they come into doctor’s offices to promote all these new drugs, and the office agrees to promote certain drugs, which somewhat influences the doctor to prescribe those prescriptions. This is set up all wrong.  What happened to patients seeing doctors, and if something was seriously wrong the doctor would prescribe what he or she thought would best help that individual patient? I also think that in this world of drug reps and advertising, they are forgetting that yes we are all people, but all people are different, especially when it comes to the body and health.  Everyone reacts to different drugs differently, and every person has different conditions or problems that can change how things work.

 I think that a lot of the negative things going on in health care are dominantly because of the insurance companies, but also the rise of technology and advertising.  As a graphic design major I should not be saying this or thinking this way but in the sense of medication, it needs to be publicized to healthcare providers not the general population, because as a whole many of us are hypochondriacs.  Also with new technology advancements we are making all of these drug advancements, which could be looked at as positive or negative. But what I really question is if we have all these drug breakthroughs and all these technology advancements are aiding us at getting further in medical technology why have we not gotten around to actual cures for diseases or cancers? Or is it that we have and our government or drug companies are keeping it from us, because they as a whole will be falling if people do not need to keep coming back for their short-term relief drugs?

            I do not think I am the best source to discuss and analyze what the American Identity is. Honestly, I am not someone who always keeps up with current events in the news, or keeps up and fully understands politics and how our government works. I have some opinions here and there but am not completely sure of the true American identity. Based on my further knowledge from this course I have learned a few things, one of them being there is no one good way to identify the United States and its people. Like Jacobson talks about in his book, Whiteness of a Different Color, almost all of us today are not truly “American” or truly “white” because our families immigrated from all over the world, especially Europe. And even today you can go to different cities and notice the higher populations of certain ethnicities, because many Irish people immigrated and lived in the same place, and so did the Germans and Italians.  For example, I am from around Buffalo, and it is widely known that there are tons of Polish people around here. In Buffalo many Polish holidays are celebrated such as Dyngus Day where we even have a parade. Just like Saint Patrick’s Day is widely celebrated throughout the United States, because there were so many Irish immigrants.  So America is a mix of a whole mess of different people, which is unlike really anywhere else in the world. 

             However, when you get on the topic of immigration you have to consider all the controversy of the Mexican border and those immigrants still trying to come here. We are trying to do so much to keep Mexican immigrants out of our country because they are living here illegally and taking jobs that American’s could be filling.  So the question is, do we loosen our grip on the border because they are immigrants much like all the European immigrants, and this is supposed to be a melting pot and the land of opportunity, but can our country afford to keep letting them be here? I think other factors that play into our identity is our freedom, our education that we can provide for children, and the fact that we are a society that now revolves around technology. But we are human--are we able to keep up with the rate that technology is advancing? So far it seems America is doing a relatively good job at keeping up with technology but will we fall behind, just like we are falling behind as a world superpower? I also question things like, now that India and China are creeping up behind us, and most likely going to surpass us will that change our identity? Will our country and citizenship become less desirable? Or do we think that because our country is built on a foundation of competitiveness we will fight to stay on top? These are things that this class, American Identities has made me consider about our country, how others view it, and what our identity is.

Works Cited

Chua, Amy. Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. New York: Penguin, 2011. Print.

Jacobson, Matthew Frye. Whiteness of a Different Color: European Immigrants and the Alchemy of Race. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1998. Print.

Sushi, Hair Metal, and My American Identity

Sushi, Hair Metal, and My American Identity

Anonymous

I.  How I Identify Myself

            No one is ever raised the exact same way as their friends, cousins, co-workers, classmates, etc., and I’ve always tried remembering that when certain things about others seem weird to me or don’t make sense.  Even in the apartment I live in now during school, the two other girls I live with have been raised very differently and have very different family backgrounds than me.  I sometimes forget now, since I’m not living with or close with some of my family, that there is more to me than being just an “American.”  There’s more to all of us than just being “American” and America really is a big melting pot of different cultures, beliefs, and traditions.

            I grew up in a Japanese household with my grandmother, brother, and father.  My grandmother and father are from Okinawa, Japan, and came here in the late 1950s or early 1960s.  She was the main person who took care of me because of my father’s work schedule and a lot of her traditions and customs, which she raised my father on, were also taught to my brother and I.  We were only allowed to speak Japanese at home and if we asked for something in English or said something in English, she wouldn’t acknowledge it because it was important to her for us to learn the language.  She also made a lot of Japanese food, which I still like to this day.  A lot of the cartoons, toys, etc., that I liked and remember playing with, too, were also originally Japanese and I think that’s because, besides her raising us that way, it’s what I knew and what interested me at the time.  I even met my family from Japan and really enjoyed meeting them and learning from them.

            When I started getting older, I started being interested in my own things, like most teenagers, and was allowed to hang out with friends more.  My grandmother moved into assisted living eventually and I stopped really paying attention to a lot of her and my father’s stories, somewhat ignoring that part of me more because I didn’t really care at the time.  I even lost the language once she moved out because I was barely using it.  Once I moved out of that house and into my mother’s house, I wasn’t surrounded by those things at all and pretty much let go of all of what I grew up on altogether.

            Now, being 20 years old and a senior in college, I’ve realized what is important to me and that a lot of my personality traits, what I like to do, and what I know have come from my childhood.  I’m really disappointed I can’t speak the language anymore and have wanted to begin learning again because it is important for me to hold onto some of those things for the future, to carry down when I have a family of my own.  My grandmother has even began losing the language because she doesn’t get to use it a lot, except on the phone with relatives, and it really upsets her because even though, at this point, she’s accepted the American culture, she still wants to hold onto part of where she came from.  I still know how to make sushi and cook some of the food, which I am proud of knowing, but that’s the only thing I can truly say I’ve still totally held onto and know.

            Besides where my grandmother and father came from, there’s a lot about me that makes me “me.”  My father rode a Harley and listened to Ozzy Osbourne, Alice Cooper, Motley Crue, Poison, Kiss, etc., and those things have definitely been passed down on me.  Motley Crue is still one of my favorite bands, and I have to see them live at least a couple times a year, and that’s probably one of the first things people that know me would think of when saying what I’m interested in.

            At first, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my journalism major because I know I could never come right out of college being a clean-cut news anchor or something along those lines, but this far into it, I’ve found that it actually fits me very well.  My biggest interests to write about and explore are music, body art, and motocross and it’s possible to be a successful, professional, journalist in those areas while still being myself.  I’ve never cared about going into a field where I’m guaranteed to make a lot of money in the future, like some other students I’ve met.  It’s more important to me to hold onto who I am and enjoy the rest of my life than hate going to work everyday, as long as I make enough to get by and provide for my own family in the future.

II.  A Significant Experience With American Identities

            My father fought in the Vietnam War and has told me small stories of his time there, but for the most part doesn’t really want to explain them to me or explain how scary it really was being there.  As a little girl, I never knew exactly what the war was or how bad of a war it really was, but once I got older and started learning about it in school, I started realizing a lot more of what my father went through and why it affected him so much to this day.

            I can’t imagine what he saw with his own eyes and it took me up until recently to start fully understanding his PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) and how to not be bothered by it.  It used to embarrass me sometimes how awkwardly social he was and how a lot of the time, he keeps to himself and doesn’t know how to act in certain situations, but I’ve really learned, especially this past summer, how to not let other people’s reactions to the “weird” things he does affect me.

            This story about America, to me, is the one I feel has most affected me because a part of it is still with my father to this day, and throughout my life, I’ve had to experience and live with that part he carries with him.  I don’t think many people truly understand the effects war has on people until they see it first hand and while we learn about the different wars throughout our school years, and while we live through one now, it’s hard for me to imagine all of the people going through similar things my father, as well as my grandfather in WWII, went through and are going through.  The number of soldiers written out in textbooks is more than just a number and many people forget to think of it as an actual group of people like us.

            All the students my age and older can probably recall where they were when the World Trade Centers were hit and right now we’re all living through something, some more than others, that will be a few chapters in a high school history textbook in the future.  I was getting ready for school when I walked in my living room and saw my father watching it on TV.  I had no idea what was actually going on because I was only ten at the time, but I started gradually understanding what was going on as people explained it to me.  I didn’t think or understand at the time, though, that the after-effects would still be going on now.

            Now, at this point, I’ve met many people my age back home in Buffalo that have been in the war, as well as students and friends in Fredonia.  My roommate’s boyfriend was in Iraq for 8 months and came to Fredonia for school afterwards.  It’s strange to think of how much he went through there and now he’s here just doing everyday things with us, once again, but still carries that with him.  Many people I went to high school with have also gone over there and it’s changed my perspective a lot on my dad’s experience because I’m living through seeing them leave, not just hearing about it after it’s all over, and what they’re going through is somewhat similar to what my dad had to do.

III.  My Beliefs/Principles On How We Ought To Define And Understand American Identities

            America is full of many different people and I’ve met people from many different places and backgrounds, as I’m sure many others have also.  Coming to Fredonia, some of my best friends here are from Africa and Jamaica.  They still fit right in being here and I don’t see them as being any more different than anyone else, they’re just used to some different things than us.  The “melting-pot” idea of our country is very true.  We’re all a mixture of different ethnicities, religions, etc., mixing together and living together.

            I feel like there’s a place in America for people of every color, race, religion, belief, sexual orientation, etc., and think the first thing any American should be is accepting or open-minded.  We all know that this isn’t really a trait everyone in our country possesses, but to me, it’s what every American should aim for.  I couldn’t imagine living in places like Jamaica, where my friend is from, where being a gay male is wrong and having a relationship with another man is against the law.  Cops there even turn the other way when it comes to hate crimes against homosexuals, while here there are parades all over the country here and gay marriage is being legalized in many states, giving some of my friends the right to be who they are and have that equal opportunity.

            I also feel like living here gives us the opportunity to make a lot out of ourselves.  We can pretty much dream of doing anything with our lives and there’s a way to achieve it.  There are so many different majors to choose from when going into tech school or college and we have the ability to change our minds at any time as long as we can finance it in some way.  Everything in our country doesn’t always run smoothly and isn’t always the fairest, and many people don’t always agree with the governments policies or ways and some abuse government assistance, but we have a lot a more opportunities and rights than other places.

            In Margaret Regan’s The Death of Josseline, the Mexican immigrants see America as an opportunity to make more money than they can back home so they can support their families, and it’s true that we are able to make more money than them, but being an American citizen, we have to pay taxes/pay our dues for being a citizen.  Living here and making a life for ourselves here is expensive, so it’s not like everything here is just given to all of us and our country has its problems.  While we are lucky to live in this country, the stereotypes others have about the “American dream” and us aren’t true altogether to that degree.

IV.  What Makes My American Identity

            After taking this American Identities class, it’s led me to really think about what all of those factors say about my American identity.  They all seem to just work together and fit into being “American.”  Growing up listening to hair metal and music along those lines and also facing a Japanese upbringing has made me the person I am today.

            I believe the Japanese upbringing has made me more of the person I am today than I ever realized before this class.  Like I mentioned in section I, I went through a rebelling stage of my upbringing, but I still hold onto some of it today and part of my personality comes from it.  Even when I was trying to let it go and be my teenage self, I never realized that my self included some of the Japanese traits that my grandmother passed down to me and I can’t erase something that makes me.

            I related to Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother because of her daughter’s struggles with her unusual, strict parenting.  In the memoir, Chua doesn’t see that her way of parenting is too strict, which in my opinion it is, and I think my grandmother was a lot like her, just not as extreme.  I couldn’t hang out with friends a lot because she felt like homework was more important and I always had the pressure on me to not disappoint them.  I played the flute and only practiced because it pleased her and my father.  I felt like an outcast in school because I didn’t wear the cool clothes or do the cool things my other classmates did because she didn’t feel like that was important.  I also studied a lot in school and did very well, and to add onto my embarrassment at the time, I was the biggest teacher’s pet.  I eventually applied for City Honors School (CHS), which is one of the best schools in the Buffalo area, and began going there in 7^th grade.  They were so happy for me to go to that school because it kept me out of the rest of the Buffalo Public Schools that weren’t good.

            Once I got into CHS, that’s when I began to rebel against my grandmother and father and met friends that were in similar situations.  As much as I tried to ignore my home life, I look back at it now and realize how I really never did.  The music I was listening to still related to the heavy-metal, hard-rock past my father passed onto me.  The rebelling stage fit into exactly that image, as well.  I may have worn more black, gotten more piercings, and acted less reserved than I used to, but it was nothing new.  It’s the same sort of rebelling we see in many American movies and hear countless teenage stories about.  I was still doing well in school, but didn’t care much and skipped a lot of classes.  I think that might have been the biggest way I know how of firing back at my father and being an angry teenager.

            I’ve gone through some other stages since then, but that was my most relevant one because it was at such a crucial time in life transitioning from middle school up to high school.  Now in college, I’ve realized how reserved, or shy, I am compared to a lot of people, including my roommate, and this may be because my grandmother was always raised to be this way as well.  I’m very soft spoken, unlike my roommate, who is Italian and is loud and vocal with everything she’s thinking or feels.

            As far as the metal music goes, I can pretty much say that it is something I will never get over and in a way, I feel like some of it makes America.  When I think of the perfect American spokesperson, I think of Bret Michaels running around on stage wearing a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, blue jeans, and a ripped up t-shirt and singing to the troops, then riding his Harley around.  My father’s love for Ozzy Osbourne could have been his rebelling stage that he went through against my grandmother’s upbringing, so I think we have that in common.  He held onto that and somewhat Americanized himself, while growing up and realizing that he couldn’t let go of the Japanese part of himself either.  My children will probably grow up getting rocked to sleep by me with Motley Crue, Black Sabbath, Poison, and Kiss on in the background and maybe they’ll hang onto it the way I do.

            Thinking back to friends’ stories about growing up and their identity, as well as other classmates’, I don’t think there is one certain trait that everybody in America possesses that makes us who we are as a country.  What we all do have in common is that our ancestors and/or ourselves have all come from different places and have faced different cultural issues.  America is just a big melting pot of every culture, religion, race, and issue.

V.  American Stereotypes

            My boyfriend is from Nigeria and he considers himself very American.  He’s interested in arts and music, which disappoints his parents because they came to America to make a better life for themselves and their children and they feel like he’s setting himself up for failure.  His family back in Nigeria doesn’t have all that they do here and they feel like he doesn’t take advantage of that or appreciate it.  He always mentions to me how proud they are of his sister for going through medical school and becoming a doctor.  I’ve noticed many doctors I meet are from other countries and maybe part of the lazy stereotype of Americans is because we all don’t take advantage of education the way they do, or we don’t have the same goals that they do.  As I mentioned earlier, money isn’t a huge deal to me and I’m happy pursuing a job in writing.  I’ve never wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer.  My parents are a little worried about my future because journalism is a tough field to find a job in, but compared to his parents, it’s nothing and they’re still supportive.  His parents are constantly on him about finding a good job or going back to school for something other than marketing and music business, but that’s all he wants to do and feels like he disappoints them sometimes.

            When it comes to religion, I’m far from religious and am technically Jewish, but I’ve never followed it.  My boyfriend’s family is very Christian and they think it’s a shame that our country is more lenient on religion.  We’re free to believe whatever we want and in my opinion that’s the way it should be, but I can see where they’re coming from because religion has caused many issues between different regions in Africa and their culture is based on religion.  America is more accepting of different people’s beliefs, including theirs so, I feel like we’re fortunate in the way that we can all live side by side with far less conflict.  No country is perfect when it comes to different forms of hate, but at least here it’s not extreme.

            Some of the American stereotypes we talked about in class may apply to myself and/or others, but I’m not sure if they’re only American traits.  I’m going to London next semester to study abroad and I’m excited to be exposed to life there and want to see the way people act in their everyday lives compared to Americans.  I’m wondering if I’m just ignorant to some American stereotypes being true because I haven’t been exposed enough to other cultures, or if they really are just false stereotypes that could apply elsewhere.  I’ve taken vacations to other places and have met people from other countries that live in America, but I don’t think that has opened my eyes as much as that experience will.

Works Cited 

Chua, Amy.  Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.  New York:  The Penguin Press, 2011.

Regan, Margaret.  The Death of Josseline.  Boston:  Beacon Press Books, 2010.

American Diversity

American Diversity

Tracy

PART ONE:  A Reflection on Self-Identification

“A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.” 

~George Moore

I’ve never considered myself a family-oriented person. In fact, my immediate family barely communicates simply due to lack of common interest. We all live separately at this point, talk on the phone occasionally, and indulge on holidays. Even as a child I was very introverted and preferred solitude. When reflecting upon how I’ve come to be the person I am, I was surprised to notice the amount of influence my family, and especially my Mother, had on me. My story perfectly exemplifies the significant impact that a positive family and home environment can have on a person, even if some factors in the situation were less than perfect.

I always thought I was growing up and being raised in an average American family; even despite seeing nuclear families grace my television, I never considered my circumstances abnormal. Oblivious to social norms, I’d bet most American children don’t understand what the “typical American family” is supposed to be like if they didn’t grow up in the suburbs with a Mother and a Father, a sibling and a dog. In my case, Grandma woke me up because Mom was busy at work and Dad was somewhere else, magically appearing in the driveway on weekends, half-heartedly taking me to some museum or buying me a new doll.

 While growing up my friends used to say that it “must be really hard” to live with divorced parents, but I hadn’t ever considered my position to be difficult; it was my life and I didn’t know how I was “supposed” to feel. Hearing these comments at a young age made me really think about how I was supposed to feel and who I was supposed to be, but by age ten I decided that it probably wasn’t worth making myself upset over.  As I was growing older, I realized that most of my friends’ parents were getting divorced as well, and that this stereotypical family dynamic was simply a fallacy.

Scientists can debate arguments about nature versus nurture until the apocalypse comes, but I am absolutely certain the experiences in my life have no doubt had an impact on my personality. I am collectively, and not exclusively, introverted, ambitious, honest, and loyal. I am a feminist, a connoisseur of all things rock-and-roll, an atheist, and a person who wants to do good things for the sake of being good. I am an extremely hardworking-individual that, if not completely self-driven, seeks motivation from strong female figures that I look up to.

I never had an extremely close relationship with my Mother, and that’s something I’m currently still struggling with, yet she has had the most significant impact on me out of anyone in my family or friend groups. Throughout my life I have watched my Mother struggle through many difficulties, often facing them alone, and never faltering. We do not always get along; in fact, most times we don’t even talk, but I never fail to let her know how admirable she is, and how much courage she has. She is strong, rebellious, self-reliant and kind-hearted; she has demonstrated to me the kind of woman that girls need to aspire to be, not the women who are broadcast on television.

            I believe that in America, everyone is given a chance to succeed. Some people may have more opportunity than others, but I believe that the chances of success are largely determined by a person’s ambition and their drive to succeed. My work ethic and ambitious attitude are something that I’ve become very proud of, and are a defining part of who I am. From the time I was little, I always admired my mother, who was working diligently and, without ever saying it, showing me what a woman could be and do despite what I saw on television. I learned that ambition is the trait that differentiates great from mediocre, intelligent from dull, professional from domestic: not man from woman. My drive to succeed, to meet my ambitious goals, has gotten me through the hardest moments in my life and helped me improve myself immensely.

            My whole life I have struggled with depression and anxiety. Looking up to my mother and other women has helped me grow, and helped me realize there is no challenge too difficult to overcome. These experiences have largely contributed to the development of my convictions and my general approach to life, truly shaping who I am. I believe that each person has something in their life that gives them inspiration and strength, and communicating with other people who have overcome difficulties in the face of sexism, abuse, or misfortune gives me faith in humanity and the motivation to succeed. Identifying with these ideals has given me strength as a person and given me the support I have needed to grow into the person I’ve become.

PART TWO: Diversity Among Youth

“I think what you're seeing is a profound recognition on the part of the American people that gays and lesbians and transgender persons are our brothers, our sisters, our children, our cousins, our friends, our co-workers, and that they've got to be treated like every other American. And I think that principle will win out.”

~Barack Obama

For the first eighteen years of my life I resided in a suburban town right outside of Buffalo, New York, which was inhabited by nuclear families who worked unfulfilling nine-to-five jobs. Most of the kids my age were struggling with average issues and experiencing the expected angst and melodrama of any high school.  Everything was relatively average. Just like an American TV drama, some minor mishaps would occur but over the course of a few days everything would go back to normal.

Everything changed when I met Chad. I was in the tenth grade, he was a freshman, and my friend Vicky was our mutual friend. One morning as we were walking to our first classes, she invited Chad to walk with us. We made casual small talk and discussed our plans for the day. I was under the impression that everything was normal, Chad seemed like a nice guy and that if he was Vicky’s friend then he must be a decent person. When I got to class a couple people approached me, asking if I knew Chad. I didn’t understand at the moment why everyone was making such a big deal out of such an ordinary person. By looking at Chad there was nothing remarkable about him; he looked like an average high school freshman, squirrelly and awkward. After some investigation I discovered that the general confusion was that nobody could decipher if Chad was a boy or a girl; he seemed in-between, ambiguous, and in the year book he was listed as “Kristy.”

            My initial reaction was to be shocked and confused as well; I was angry at myself for reacting in such a way, but I had never seen anything like this happen in my hometown before. When I talked to Chad I was unsure of what to say: should I ask him about it? How should I address him? I was scared and uncomfortable.  Not being the most popular student in the school myself, I realized it would be hypocritical to outcast Chad, and I was trying to always be open-minded. After giving the matter much thought, I convinced myself that it would be idiotic not to accept Chad as he was. He was just a person like anyone else--what was there to be scared of?

Chad was really kind, and I was secretly very interested in his decision to change his gender, but I knew that if he was comfortable talking about it he would tell me his story. I knew I would have to wait and gain Chad’s trust in order for him to learn more about his decision, but other people at our school were not as understanding.

            People would tease him, spread nasty rumors, call him an “it”: they would do anything they could to rationalize him and his situation and what it meant to their lives. I was alarmed when Chad told me he had decided to address all of two thousand students at once, and that there was going to be an entire school assembly all about him and his story. He gave a short speech, vaguely detailing his story in hopes that it would feed people’s curiosity enough for them to leave him alone. In a nutshell, Chad told us all that he was born in the wrong body. He had undergone rigorous neurological and psychological testing as a child, and all the professionals agreed with him:  Kristy was really, mentally and psychologically, a male. He also touched on his emotional journey through his life, explaining how he had once been suicidal, but now felt strong. Chad also showed us photos of him as a child, a little girl who always looked uncomfortable and out of her element in a pink dress.

 At this point, I was almost certain that people would leave Chad alone, and maybe even reach out to him. I even thought that he may make several friends from the whole experience, but I was simply being naïve. I thought people would admire his courage, understand him, but they didn’t and the teasing and bullying only grew worse. Everything got so bad that Chad’s family decided to move to a different school district so that he could have a fresh start, and I never saw him again.

I stayed in contact with Chad for several years after he moved. He told me that things were a lot better at his new school and that he had joined some online support groups where he could reach out to other teens going through the same issues. Looking at photos of Chad now, he looks like any other twenty-one year old male. He has facial hair, a strong jaw-line, a smile and even a beautiful girlfriend. By looking at his photographs you can tell he truly is happy to be alive and even happier because he went through with what he believed to be right for himself.

            This whole experience helped me realize that gender is a huge part of personal identity and helps us, both as humans and Americans, define who we are and how people see us. Meeting and knowing Chad opened my eyes to a whole other world of people, people who struggled with gender, or whose gender didn’t fit into the binary gender roles and assignments. I’ve learned that many people feel threatened by experiences like these, and become defensive. As with most things, if people are made uncomfortable and are forced to evaluate their own identity then they dismiss something as “weird” or “bad.” These stigmas can be devastating to the individuals and cause high rates of depression and suicide.

            The amount of hate crimes committed against homosexual or transgendered people in America is quite outstanding. According to the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs the amount of hate-crimes against the LGBT community has increased by 13% from 2009 to 2010 alone. The hatred geared towards this community is deeply rooted into our society and is prevalent in our television shows, video games, movies, and every other sort of media imaginable.

            Chad is just one of many other transgendered individuals whom are free to choose their gender as American citizens, because in some scenarios people do not identify with the genders they were ascribed. America was once looked at as the “melting pot” of cultures, but it seems as though we’ve come to a standstill and that we’d rather everyone assimilate into some American ideal that is neither realistic nor practical. Change and growth are necessary to make a culture progress and if we as a society attempt to inhibit cultural progress, we will be divided as a nation.

“He who rejects change is the architect of decay. The only human institution which rejects progress is the cemetery.”

 ~Harold Wilson

PART THREE: American Change

“Sitting at the table doesn't make you a dinner, unless you eat some of what's on that plate. Being here in America doesn't make you an American. Being born here in America doesn't make you an American.”

 ~Malcolm X

Throughout the course of my life I have only passively recognized that I am an American citizen but I had never truly thought about what it meant in terms of my own identity. As children we are raised to always be proud to be an American, but as we grow older it is our responsibility to put some thought into why we should feel prideful of our nationality and conversely, why we shouldn’t.

I have had the privilege of being exposed to many different lifestyles throughout my upbringing and, given these experiences; it’s hard for me to say what I believe being an American entails. I believe that some foreign stereotypes of American culture are accurate at times, but I also feel that America’s culture has so much depth that is not apparent to foreigners, and perhaps is not even apparent to most Americans. The density of American culture is profound, and the ability for it to be overlooked is quite easy. The pure size and diversity of our nation causes us to form separate cultures and identities throughout the country. The formulation of sub-cultures and area-based culture distorts any pre-conceived notion of a common national identity, making us unsure of whom we are and what we’re supposed to be. The media seems to be absolutely certain of what they want us to be, taking the extreme examples of our culture and representing our entire national identity as such. This issue is directly correlated to the amount of inadequacies people think they have in our nation, which may be why we are so eager to seek medication for even the smallest of problems.

Americans are known for being fat, for teenage pregnancies, for eating disorders, and in general being gluttonous and greedy individuals. We are known for our desire to mask our problems with a façade and carry on, self-medicating and self-diagnosing. We are known for being lazy, for being stupid, for being ignorant. We are constantly questioning ourselves and seeking some sort of societal approval; as American citizens we don’t trust ourselves to know what’s in our best interest. The American media controls most of what our society thinks about health-issues, the way men and women’s bodies should look, and the appropriate way in which to act or dress.

Even in popular culture the American identity is constantly changing and shifting as technology and the general global culture shifts, and it seems as though we have become resistant to the change. I’m not speaking of technological change, but of change within our personal convictions. We are nostalgic for the past and still want to be the milk-and-butter eating, white Americans we were in the 1950s, an ideal that probably never was a reality, and can definitely no longer exist. Yet, even though our culture is shifting towards a modern age, older generations resist, and remain conservative in their values, while the youth seems to be getting increasingly more extreme with time.

American ideals have changed and women and minorities have gained more power and more a voice in our society and government. It seems as though through the shifts in our culture people are confused about their roles in society. People appear to be unsure of how they should behave and interact with others. This may have to do with the considerable difference between values among the different generations, but can also be attributed to the vast amount of sub-cultural activity in America.

Being such a large nation, we have so many subcultures and lifestyles that vary throughout our country, it seems as though there is no way to act “truly American” other than as a technicality. Despite this, I think Americans have a certain air about themselves that differentiates them from people of other countries; our pride unites us as a country.

My advice for American citizens is to approach the American identity, and all of life, with more of an open mind. All of Americans aren’t revolutionaries or cowboys or ignorant and fat. I would say that most Americans don’t know who they are, or don’t fit into a stereotypical category, and they are just trying to live their lives. Most Americans, from my experience, value their freedom more than anything, and we should be free to pursue the lifestyles we choose.

In the modern world people are much more exposed to other ways of life and other cultures and are more apt to practice different lifestyles than the way in which they were brought up. This can lead to hatred among family members and friends, which is completely unnecessary and unfortunate. If people were open-minded to other ways of life, Americans would be happier people and there would be less division between races and subcultures of modern society.