Lies We Are Told: Lie # 1:Your Heritage

I can clearly remember being told to lie about my race, my ethnicity if you will, at a very young age. As a small child in the 60's my mother used to remind me to never mention that I was part German. It was hammered in to my head that if I said a word about my German heritage I could be tortured or killed. I was told to always cling to my Irish roots and flat out deny my German ancestry. As a child I felt that I was being asked to do something terribly wrong. The church that I was occasionally dragged to said lying was wrong, it was a sin. But I was told to lie, to lie lie lie in spite of it.

At the time we were in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and I was told that anti-German sentiment was rampant (of course my mother was far more crude with her wording) but it scared me. Because of something I did not understand as a toddler or slightly older than a toddler, I could be hurt badly. Or killed.

For good measure I was always told to omit that we had black ties as well. African American was not a common term back then. Negro and then black were the more common terms. Again, I did not see the harm. Why was I being asked to lie? To hide a part of who I was? I saw no difference in black or white; I saw no one facet of my lineage as better or worse than any other. It was confusing and hurtful. I was being told that I should feel shame for something that was not shameful, and guilt for something that had no guilt.

That feeling of having to hide followed me through the years, it is still with me today in part due to the behavior I was forced to adhere to and then the after effects of the truth coming out.

One day, as I was out swimming with friends in a secluded pond, we met an older couple who remarked on my obvious German blood. I automatically threw out that I was Irish. They laughed and said Yes, but the German shows more. The eyes, the hair, the skin---you are so obviously German! At the ripe old age of 17 I nearly panicked. The older couple told me to not worry. They said they understood my mother's fear, as in the 60's there was still pockets of anti-German haters who were a threat. Especially in less cultured areas of the country.

It was a breath of fresh air. I could admit my German roots and not be struck down dead. Over time, I discovered that so many people out there easily noted the difference between German and Nazi. As I had nothing to do with the party of hate or oppression, I was okay.

For the record, I am not ashamed of any aspect of my heritage or being. I figure my ancestors found someone to love and have a family with and their race or color was truly irrelevant. As for anyone curious on the matter, here goes! I am Irish, German, English, (possiblt\y Scottish), Native American (Cherokee, Choctaw, Blackfoot, Mohawk) African American, Black Dutch and Dutch. I'm very mixed. I am an American woman. I am unique. I am me. There is not a damn thing wrong with that.