Personal Identity Research Paper I classify my race, ethnicity, and culture as a white, Irish-Italian- American, woman. My mother was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland and my paternal grandparents are from Sicily, Italy. I imagine being first generation Irish and second generation Italian makes me relate more with my ethnicity. My maternal grandfather impacted my development of my ethnic and cultural identity. He instilled a pride and an understanding of my Irish roots. Specifically, he brought me over to Belfast to learn and experience the culture. At the time, the hostility between the Protestants and Catholics was clear. People were living under the threats of terrorism, bombing, propaganda graffiti, and under a police state. In addition, I saw families torn apart because a mother was one religion and the father another. Yet, I developed a love for the country, its people, and heritage. In the same manner, my paternal grandmother taught me about my Italian heritage. She would cook specialties from Sicily and tell me stories of her homeland. My grandmother made sure I appreciated Sicilian traditions, superstitions, and the language. I am grateful to both my grandparents for exposing me to their cultures. My identity matches the way others view me; but, other races fail to recognize there are many white cultures and ethnicities. To emphasize: Irish culture differs from Italian culture; which differs from Swedish culture; so, white is not one big homogenous
The first time my mom went over to my dads house for dinner it showed how different their cultures are. They all sat down for dinner when my mom noticed there were no forks, confused she asked where she could get them. My dad and his family all laughed and proceeded to eat their dinner without forks and instead with tortillas. Later on, I was born into this mix of american and hispanic culture. My parents have shaped the cultural identity I have from the type of food I eat, my hobbies, and the values I have.
I come from a list of different ethnicities and line of ancestry. My ethnic background consists of English, African American, Native American, and Irish. Therefore, coming from these different ethnicity groups I get a viewpoint and understanding of all three ethnicities and how my family was shaped. Also, I was able to get insight on the different was my family was looked upon due to their different types of ethnicity groups. I was taught to never judge anyone by the way they looked because they can be a part of the same ancestry as you so never judge a book by its cover. Although, I have these numerous groups my family never singled in or chose one ethnicity over another but instead my family embraced all of their ethnic backgrounds with pride.
My ethnic identity is Mexican. I have always identified as Mexican. However, I remember questioning my ethnicity when I began working and interacting with a wide range of people. African-Americans would question me and ask if I was sure I was 100 percent Mexican. I thought in my head, how could any of us be 100 percent of any single race/ethnicity. It was not till then that I decided to question and look into where my father’s family came from and
Without fail, when someone discovers the stories in their own family tree, they become empowered and inspired. I know this from personal experience, because eight years ago, someone helped me discover my lost family legacies, and it changed me forever. I found stories of great sacrifice, courage, conviction, service, struggle, conflict, diversity and triumph. Some of my ancestors lived in a cave for the first few years and purchased land rights from the Native Americans who helped them plant new crops and build
While my parents showed me how to be resilient and a dreamer, my grandmother taught me to embrace and appreciate our Haitian culture and beliefs. Living in a predominately white area for the majority of my life, she always instilled our culture and individuality in me. It was important for her that I should not forget my identity simply because it wasn’t prevalent in our town. She shamelessly embraced and proudly displayed her culture, no matter how others felt, and for that I greatly applaud
I consider myself to be a white Irish-Italian American woman. My mother was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland and my paternal grandparents are from Sicily, Italy. I imagine being first generation Irish and second generation Italian makes me identify more with my ethnicity.
My race is Caucasian, or white. Since the seventeenth century, being white in America has been considered the “majority”, and up until the mid to late nineteenth century, it was about the only thing that was socially acceptable. However, thankfully I never had to be alive in the days where segregation was still going on
I belong to the Franco American, English, and Scottish ethnic groups. However, being predominately Franco American and having closer relationships with my family members of this ethnicity as a child, I mainly identify with this group.
I belong to the Franco American, English, and Scottish ethnic groups. However, being predominately Franco American, and having closer relationships with my family members of this ethnicity as a child, I mainly identify with this group.
I was born _name__ on _date__ in _place__. I am a son, brother, uncle, nephew, cousin, and friend. I was desperately shy as a small child, but grew out of it. My teen years were happy times sports, friends, summers spent in __place_. It all helped shape me into who I am today. My interests are many. I have always enjoyed reading about history and follow the history channel faithfully. I love music. It's been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I find it calming when life gets rocky.
I lived with my grandmother for the first half of my life. She practically raised me. Everyone in our village would talk about how much she spoiled me. She would go out of her way to get what I needed. One day I was playing with my friends, there was food in the house but I just wanted to eat snacks. I complained and whined about it until I got what I wanted she made my uncle go all the way into the city to buy me some snacks even though I could’ve just eaten what was in the house. She was a part of me. We had so much in common. My mom wasn't unable to raise me because she was living in America.
For my identity project, rather than being creative by tying my identity to something symbolic or creating an extended metaphor, I realized the best route for me was to write a paper. This wasn’t because I was too lazy to find some sort of creative outlet, but I thought that the best way for me to evaluate my identity is by telling my coming out story and how it was affected by my identity and eyedentity. I tried to think of some way to make this creative, but I realized that the best way to do this would be by just writing about my experiences, and then talking through it.
“ I’m not a white girl.” If I had a dollar for every time these words spilled out of my mouth, I would be pretty rich. My whole life, I have been called a white girl. It doesn’t bother me but there’s another part of me that people don’t always see. It’s not until people get to know me that they see my true identity. Truth is, I’m half Caucasian and half Hispanic. I always explain to people about my background when they ask or are misinformed because I appreciate my Mexican roots just as much as my Irish/German roots. My mother is from Cleveland, Ohio. She has rich Irish and German blood. My father is from Laredo, Texas. His grandparents are from Mexico. I don’t classify myself to one particular ethnic group. I see myself as a mutt; mixed with different ethnic groups from around the world.
She taught us how to pray. My grandmother had 13 children and my mother is her second to last child with a different father from her other children. My mother’s father (grandfather) had seven children. With this large family, I have lots of aunts, uncles, grand aunts, grand uncles, and countless numbers of cousins from different generations. Some of us are very close and know each other while some of us are distant and doesn’t communicate. We used to go to the country in the summer and on Easter break to spend time with my family on my mom’s father side of the family. My childhood experiences have taught me a lot about family. The experience of living in the same yard has taught me to stick with my family no matter what. Even though food and clothes were scarce, my family would share with each other and if one person has food, then we all would eat. We learned to utilize and appreciate the little we did have. Things weren’t as civilized in my neighborhood, but I learned to appreciate the smallest things and be grateful for what we did have.
There are small things about your heritage that can help shape your everyday life. Families share cooking recipes, give life advice and tell stories about their upbringing. Traditions and family get-togethers binds generations.