Research Paper

Unit Six Assignment 1

Bree Donovan

Capella University

Section 1: Describe Race/Ethnic Identity

I am a straight, white, American woman. My ethnicity is Irish and Italian. I was raised Catholic, but am now Wiccan. The choice to be Wiccan is directly related to the closeness I shared with my Irish grandmother. She practiced a form of Catholic mysticism all her own. I was taught about my mother’s grandparent’s struggles when they moved from Ireland to the United States.

The study of being Irish is a study of suffering; first, the struggle for freedom from British rule, the struggle of the Great Famine, and the struggle of the Irish arriving in America.

Making the Irish American : History and Heritage of the Irish in the United States, edited by Casey and Lee, (2006) states that Churchill’s own answer was that “Ireland is not a daughter race. She is a parent nation.” This was, of course, a heavily coded message. Although Churchill himself purported to be talking about the Irish in the British Empire, what he meant even more was that it was in the interests of England’s relations with America for it to make some concessions to Irish demands for independence. His listeners in the House of Commons knew perfectly well he meant that those for whom she was mainly “the parent nation” were the American Irish and that they were playing a crucial role in the struggle for independence. Eighty years later Peter Quinn could still observe that “Ireland remains a canvas on which many of the broad brush strokes of the modern world’s formation— imperialism, colonialism, nationalism, revolution, emigration, democratization, et al.—can be fruitfully studied and examined.” (Casey and Lee, 2006).

I was taught that the Irish came to America to escape persecution by the (Protestant) British, a great famine, and extreme poverty. I was also taught that the Irish are a very resilient people who celebrate life and their heritage.

John Davis Cantwell gives an account of his great grandfather’s life in Ireland during the time of the Great Famine in his (2007) article; A great-grandfather's account of the Irish potato famine (1845-1850).

“In October 1845, almost overnight, a dense blue fog settled over our puddled potato fields. An odor of decay permeated the air. When the wind and rain died away, there was a terrible stillness. The potato crop was ruined, destroyed (we learned later) by the fungus Phytophthora infestans. Over especially the next 2 years, life was miserable. We were always hungry and lost weight. England gave us some Indian corn and maize, but it was poorly ground and caused abdominal pain and diarrhea.” (Cantwell, 2007).

Further, Cantwell writes;” many of the British took the attitude that the famine was God's punishment toward a sinful people. We Catholics (80% of our population but not in ruling authority like the Protestants) didn't agree with this nonsense… October 30, 1850. We managed to avoid the “runners” and bullies who preyed upon the new arrivals and settled in Rochester, NY, where our daughter, Jennie, was born in 1856. We came by boat to Milwaukee that same year, where our youngest son, William, was born in 1858 and where I worked as a common laborer until my death from a heart attack at age 55, in 1870.” (Cantwell, 2007).

This account is not much different than my great grandparents. I was told that when one great uncle, Thomas came from Ireland with the invitation of a room and job in New York from his brother who had already established himself in the City. When my great uncle knocked on the door of his brother’s New York home, he was turned away because he had no money to offer. Thomas had to begin his life over in a foreign land, with nothing and he did just that.

Section 2: Identify and Discuss

I grew up in a white, middle class neighborhood. My father was often out of work due to the nature of his trade. He received Unemployment several times during his mechanical engineer career. He was not college educated, but very smart, and self-taught. He made sure that I and my siblings did not have to fear going hungry, or be without basic needs. My father turned being jobless an unpredictable and fun time. My sister and I pealed potatoes at the kitchen table, singing to the top 40 songs on the radio. We would fry up our potato mound for home fires to be served with my father’s panckaes. We were excited to have breakfast for dinner.

My mother was as stay at home mother, but, my father wanted her to work and contribute to the family finances. The only time my mother worked, was when my father was unemployed. Since my mother was a homemaker, my father controlled the money. My mother had to ask for access to anything beyond her allotted allowance from my father.

My mother was reckless with money when she had it. Perhaps this can be associated by her father being a gambler, and her family moving many times during her childhood. They lost homes and furniture and heirlooms. Witnessing the tension regarding money between my parents instilled in me a sense of wanting my own means of income, and the ability to spend it as I saw fit. I too am reckless with money and not responsible, as my father was.

Neither of my parents taught their children how to organize and build their financial future as well as advanced education. These were not high on the list of priorities. We were on our own in those areas. High school graduation seemed to satisfy my parents and grandparents. I have been homeless during my life time, but, I never had to endure the terrible hate and injustice that my fellow Gen X-ers of minority groups were forced to.  I was isolated in a white, Christian bubble for many years.

Section 3: Consider and Analyze

It was not until I began attending Community college at age eighteen that I was able to sit in a classroom with people of different color, race, beliefs, sexual orientation and abilities. I felt my life opening up in a way that would change and better me forever. I had tangible proof that people on the face of it seemed different from me, indeed shared so many of the same goals as myself. I also learned about the struggle of others first hand. I learned of their outage, pain and frustration. I also learned of their pride.

It is one thing to learn about a distant great, great uncle and his difficult arrival in America, but quite another to learn about a fellow student; an Asian American who is experiencing great difficulty in living up to his family’s cultural expectations, and his own desire to be and feel more “American.”

The greatest lesson I learned during my years at university was the difference between the words other and Other.

Stuart Z. Charme writes in his book; Vulgarity and authenticity: Dimensions of otherness in the world of jean-paul sartre. (revised in 2016). In short, the Other usually is regarded as vulgar , and the vulgar is almost always seen as other . Disdain at vulgarity is rooted in fear of the Other's difference, for difference by its very nature is subversive and carries the seeds of loss of control. By relativizing one's assumptions about the way the world is and ought to be, the Other's difference threatens the easy stability and security of seeing in the world only a reflection of ourselves. To neutralize this threat, it is necessary to devalue (and thus disempower) the Other as uncivilized, vulgar, dangerous, or even mad.” (Charme, 2016).

I learned about the marginalization of Others who were not white, male, straight and upper class.

Section 4: Compare and Contrast

Through the use of the Cultural Competency assessment I have become aware of the impact that my thoughts, attitudes and feelings could have on cultures that are different from my own. After spending my college and graduate school years delving into and exploring other cultures; in particular that of the African Americans, Indigenous people of America and the LGBT community, I developed a deep sense of shame for my identity.

I was born in the body, class and sex that I had no control over, and yet, others came into their lives under the same random chance, and yet, because of which race, class, sexual identity, these individuals were born into, they were made to suffer great injustice.

Music has been a way of self-expression and exploration as early as my childhood. It was through music that I became enlightened about the plight of the African American. Blues music, and Jazz were a direct response to the African slave experience in America. You can hear the open, honest, raw pain of these musicians. Blues music has served as a bridge for me to my fellow musicians who are African American and a way in which we can have honest discussions where I feel less shame about who I am, and more pride in people who were able to transform tragedy and injustice into a beautiful art form which can speak to every person. This is unity in its most basic form.

As I look at the faces and families of the people who live in my housing development, I am curious and eager to learn about the wonderful smells of foreign foods, the traditions and celebrations which mark my neighbor’s lives. I understand those of African, Indian and Hispanic communities still endure open hostility as a not so well kept secret between the whites in the community.

I have been emboldened to speak up whenever I hear this kind of racist speech. I may not be able to have empathy for the suffering, in the sense that I have not walked their particular path in their shoes. But, I can have sympathy, a concern for their suffering and wanting to be active in making a change. I have much more work to do.

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