Every since I was very young, I have been questioned about my ethnicity.
I was the only girl with black hair, brown eyes, and a dark completion when I was in elementary. I was teased. I was called a Mexican and other “slang” ethnic terms.
For the longest time I wish I was the “true” American girl… blonde hair, blue eyes, tall and thin. But, I know that I will never be that kind of American… I was the little 7-year-old girl pushed away from everyone else because she didn’t fit in.
Being older, I am sometimes still questioned about my ethnicity. During the summer (When I have an extremely dark tan) I am often asked if I am Arabic, Native American, Mexican, and I have even been asked if I had ancestors who were Gypsies. When we went to Florida in February when I was paler than I usually am, a woman asked me if I was Vietnamese. How can anyone confuse those ethnic groups? How can I be mistaken for all of them?
To be honest, I don’t know my heritage. I have been raised to believe I am the normal: German and Irish. That is it; my parents told me that is all I am. But, you have a feeling that maybe you are something more… you know you don’t know the complete truth about your past.
Since I don’t know my true ethnicity, I shall say I am American.
I am an American… not the blonde haired, blue eyed American; but the American who doesn’t fit in any other group.
~only a shadow