From a European (more specifically Swedish) perspective calling people "African American" or "Asian American" has always struck me as weird. "Barack Obama was the first black U.S. president" makes...
From a European (more specifically Swedish) perspective calling people "African American" or "Asian American" has always struck me as weird. "Barack Obama was the first black U.S. president" makes perfect sense, is inoffensive, and is more correct, since he's American, not African. So I like this change, it's a logical progression.
His father is Kenyan, so he actually has a ton of African blood in him and is a lot more African than most "African Americans" who are many generations removed from the continent. My father...
His father is Kenyan, so he actually has a ton of African blood in him and is a lot more African than most "African Americans" who are many generations removed from the continent.
My father immigrated to the US from Greece, and I have no problem calling myself a Greek American.
So I think that is fine for him.
It's always struck me as a bit of an unexpected quirk that many Americans are eager to identify as something other than "only" American - doubly so given how accepted (and even expected) public...
It seems like this view is simply a difference between American, and European culture.
It's always struck me as a bit of an unexpected quirk that many Americans are eager to identify as something other than "only" American - doubly so given how accepted (and even expected) public displays of patriotism are in much of the US.
I quite like the slight paradox that identifying as something other than (or at least in addition to) American is an inherent part of American culture.
I have no doubt you're right about age being part of it, but I do think there's still something that feels uniquely American about the conversation we're having - I'd be surprised to hear...
I have no doubt you're right about age being part of it, but I do think there's still something that feels uniquely American about the conversation we're having - I'd be surprised to hear something similar from an Australian, for example.
If I were to guess, I'd say that alongside age, the importance of e pluribus unum has kept more focus on the pluribus than in a lot of other countries. I'm totally speculating at this point, though.
I'd say unique rather than peculiar - it's the kind of tangent I enjoy discussing, because I can now totally envisage that primary school class, and the positive message behind it.
I'd say unique rather than peculiar - it's the kind of tangent I enjoy discussing, because I can now totally envisage that primary school class, and the positive message behind it.
Hello! There's a large contingent of Australians who identify as something other than only Australian. 25% of Australians were born overseas, and another 25% have at least one parent who was born...
I'd be surprised to hear something similar from an Australian, for example.
Hello!
There's a large contingent of Australians who identify as something other than only Australian.
25% of Australians were born overseas, and another 25% have at least one parent who was born overseas. Only about half of all Australians were born here and have two parents who were born here. We're therefore as much a migrant population as a local one.
A lot of those migrant and migrant-raised people identify as their "home" culture as well as Australian. The effect tends to dissipate by the third generation: the migrants themselves identify as their native culture more than as Australian, their children often have dual cultural identities borrowing from their parents' culture as well as the Australian culture they're growing up in, while the migrants' grandchildren are the first generation who consider themselves primarily Australian.
The process is slightly faster for white/Anglo migrants, whose children often assimilate quicker than their non-white/non-Anglo counterparts.
But, generally speaking, we have a lot of dual-culture Australians.
I guess the difference I've seen is less about the proportion, more about the persistence. Anecdotal though it is, my experience in most places does mesh with what you're saying - that first and...
I guess the difference I've seen is less about the proportion, more about the persistence. Anecdotal though it is, my experience in most places does mesh with what you're saying - that first and to some extent second generation migrants keep stronger ties, but those generally fade by the grandchildren's generation - whereas I've spoken to a reasonable number of Americans who still take pride in (and identify closely with) ancestry going back much further.
Tens of thousands of Chinese people came to Australia during our Gold Rush back in the 1850s - and many of them stayed, brought their wives over, settled down, and had kids & grandkids. There are...
Tens of thousands of Chinese people came to Australia during our Gold Rush back in the 1850s - and many of them stayed, brought their wives over, settled down, and had kids & grandkids. There are people living here today who can trace their ancestry back to those Chinese settlers. And I'd be willing to bet a lot of them consider themselves Chinese-Australians.
As contrast, my parents' families each came here in the 1950s, so I'm the product of a more recent wave of immigration than those Chinese-Australians. I am a first-generation Australian, born to migrant parents (I like to describe myself as "made locally, from imported ingredients"). However, both my parents were white, so I'm white - which means I blend in as an "Aussie". Because "Aussies" are white. That's how the ethnic paradigm works here:
white + Aussie accent = "Aussie";
non-white + Aussie accent = "not Aussie";
white + non-Aussie accent = "not Aussie".
On the other hand, those Chinese-Australians whose ancestors came here a century before mine do not look "Aussie". They have more claim to being "Aussie" than I do, but the main paradigm here is than "Aussies" are white, so I blend in and they don't. I wouldn't blame them for holding on to their ancestral cultural identification in that case. They're considered "other" by the main population, so why wouldn't they embrace their "other"-ness?
The difference between black and African American is that subtle I guess. First off, Barack Obama is mixed race. I don't think that gets pointed out enough and no one ever mentions it. So I just...
"Barack Obama was the first black U.S. president" makes perfect sense
The difference between black and African American is that subtle I guess. First off, Barack Obama is mixed race. I don't think that gets pointed out enough and no one ever mentions it. So I just wanted to say that.
To clear the distinction up: Barrack Obama is most accurately called African-American and Michelle is most accurately called black. Black identity is most strongly associated with the people and ancestors of those who were subjected to racialized slavery and apartheid. African-American, or in Barry's case, Kenyan-American. But, I don't think anyone will ever stop you from calling Barack Obama a black american.
The reason I perceive it as not okay to refer to the descendant of freed slaves as African American is to do with bloodlines. The Atlantic Slave Trade dates back to the 1500s so some black people;s ancestors have been living on the continent for longer than there has been an American. For me at least, this is why calling someone African-American is pretty whack. Black goes both ways in my mind since people of African descent are still stigmatized on the basis of their blackness and it is I guess just much easier to say.
Also, a black person could be Jamaican, Dominican, St. Lucian, Barbutian, Bahamanian or Haitian so assuming they are of African descent on skin color is double whack since it erases their Carribbean heritage. And before anyone goes and says "yeah but they were African before that" let me restate that black people have lived in North American for 500 years.
In that way, it could be more appropriate to call a black American Haitian before you'd call them African. But since they don't really have any way to tell you, you're for sure assuming so African-American is just in general pretty PC whitewashing and not a more accurate term.
Apologies in advance if I'm not following correctly. I got maybe five hours of sleep, just got off a full eight-hour shift, and I'm still giddy from a Key & Peele marathon. But I thought I'd...
Apologies in advance if I'm not following correctly. I got maybe five hours of sleep, just got off a full eight-hour shift, and I'm still giddy from a Key & Peele marathon. But I thought I'd provide a couple of insights.
First off, Barack Obama is mixed race. I don't think that gets pointed out enough and no one ever mentions it. So I just wanted to say that.
Mixed person here; white and Puerto Rican. I pass for white, but the minute someone learns of my Puerto Rican ancestry, I'm forever the "Puerto Rican friend." For better or for worse, being referred to the "more ethnic part" is a given for mixed people. Myself, I don't get offended nor do I say "Well, actually..." when someone refers to me as one or the other. (At least white people are more eager to recognize that part of my heritage than other Puerto Ricans, but that's a rant for another day.)
If you're wondering, yes, that Ethnicity/Race section on questionnaires is a recurring foe of mine. I've often had to check the Other box, but it's nothing I lose sleep over.
Also, a black person could be Jamaican, Dominican, St. Lucian, Barbutian, Bahamanian or Haitian so assuming they are of African descent on skin color is double whack since it erases their Carribbean heritage.
On both sides of my family, people didn't keep careful records. Particularly on the Puerto Rican side, as it's a mix of African, maybe some Taino, and a hodgepodge of European (and I guess illiteracy may have helped... or not helped). I have no way of knowing which African nations my ancestors came from. I have no way of knowing if it was only Spanish and French from the Old World. I don't even know if other Caribbean people came along on their long boats, had a good time with the other islanders, and rowed on to the next booty call. (Look, it's my heritage, I'll poke fun at it if I want.)
We do have Afro-Puerto Ricans in our family, but they call themselves black. Come to think of it, I don't think I've met a Puerto Rican who referred to themselves as Afro-Puerto Rican, but that could be a Stateside thing.
Fun fact: In Puerto Rico, negro/negra (pronounced "NEH-gro"/"NEH-gra") is a term of endearment and isn't racist to us. My dad explained that it "dates back to the days when all Puerto Ricans were black." Maybe it's simplifying matters, but it recalls a part of our history.
On my mom's side, it gets a little easier... kinda. Irish and Scottish. But then you have to consider the tribes living in America. We claim Cherokee, mostly because of my half Cherokee great-grandmother, but what about other tribes that may have intermarried with us? They're from South Carolina, but perhaps they identified as Melungeon (a mix of European, Native American, and African), which is another melting pot from that part of America.
If you're mixed or have no way of knowing, you may have to go with a condensed or "catch-all" term. So it's white and Puerto Rican for me... or Other.
I am also mixed. I identify as mixed. Most of the time I pass a mostly white but I have asian features as well. Both parts of that heritage are important to me as is the fact that I'm mixed. It...
I am also mixed. I identify as mixed. Most of the time I pass a mostly white but I have asian features as well. Both parts of that heritage are important to me as is the fact that I'm mixed. It doesn't really matter to me what someone calls be. But if someone asks, I'm not going to erase one.
As a mixed Black woman, it rankles to be called 'African American' as I have no ties to Africa other than DNA ancestry. All of the generations before me, as far back as I can determine, were born...
As a mixed Black woman, it rankles to be called 'African American' as I have no ties to Africa other than DNA ancestry. All of the generations before me, as far back as I can determine, were born in the USA. I'd much rather be called 'Black' than 'African' though most people look at me as 'mixed', especially since my skin and eyes are light. The hair gives it away, though. LOL.
From a European (more specifically Swedish) perspective calling people "African American" or "Asian American" has always struck me as weird. "Barack Obama was the first black U.S. president" makes perfect sense, is inoffensive, and is more correct, since he's American, not African. So I like this change, it's a logical progression.
His father is Kenyan, so he actually has a ton of African blood in him and is a lot more African than most "African Americans" who are many generations removed from the continent.
My father immigrated to the US from Greece, and I have no problem calling myself a Greek American.
So I think that is fine for him.
It seems like this view is simply a difference between American, and European culture. Trevor Noah got caught up in it during the world cup when he made a joke about the French team being from Africa.
It's always struck me as a bit of an unexpected quirk that many Americans are eager to identify as something other than "only" American - doubly so given how accepted (and even expected) public displays of patriotism are in much of the US.
I quite like the slight paradox that identifying as something other than (or at least in addition to) American is an inherent part of American culture.
I have no doubt you're right about age being part of it, but I do think there's still something that feels uniquely American about the conversation we're having - I'd be surprised to hear something similar from an Australian, for example.
If I were to guess, I'd say that alongside age, the importance of e pluribus unum has kept more focus on the pluribus than in a lot of other countries. I'm totally speculating at this point, though.
I'd say unique rather than peculiar - it's the kind of tangent I enjoy discussing, because I can now totally envisage that primary school class, and the positive message behind it.
Hello!
There's a large contingent of Australians who identify as something other than only Australian.
25% of Australians were born overseas, and another 25% have at least one parent who was born overseas. Only about half of all Australians were born here and have two parents who were born here. We're therefore as much a migrant population as a local one.
A lot of those migrant and migrant-raised people identify as their "home" culture as well as Australian. The effect tends to dissipate by the third generation: the migrants themselves identify as their native culture more than as Australian, their children often have dual cultural identities borrowing from their parents' culture as well as the Australian culture they're growing up in, while the migrants' grandchildren are the first generation who consider themselves primarily Australian.
The process is slightly faster for white/Anglo migrants, whose children often assimilate quicker than their non-white/non-Anglo counterparts.
But, generally speaking, we have a lot of dual-culture Australians.
I guess the difference I've seen is less about the proportion, more about the persistence. Anecdotal though it is, my experience in most places does mesh with what you're saying - that first and to some extent second generation migrants keep stronger ties, but those generally fade by the grandchildren's generation - whereas I've spoken to a reasonable number of Americans who still take pride in (and identify closely with) ancestry going back much further.
Tens of thousands of Chinese people came to Australia during our Gold Rush back in the 1850s - and many of them stayed, brought their wives over, settled down, and had kids & grandkids. There are people living here today who can trace their ancestry back to those Chinese settlers. And I'd be willing to bet a lot of them consider themselves Chinese-Australians.
As contrast, my parents' families each came here in the 1950s, so I'm the product of a more recent wave of immigration than those Chinese-Australians. I am a first-generation Australian, born to migrant parents (I like to describe myself as "made locally, from imported ingredients"). However, both my parents were white, so I'm white - which means I blend in as an "Aussie". Because "Aussies" are white. That's how the ethnic paradigm works here:
On the other hand, those Chinese-Australians whose ancestors came here a century before mine do not look "Aussie". They have more claim to being "Aussie" than I do, but the main paradigm here is than "Aussies" are white, so I blend in and they don't. I wouldn't blame them for holding on to their ancestral cultural identification in that case. They're considered "other" by the main population, so why wouldn't they embrace their "other"-ness?
The difference between black and African American is that subtle I guess. First off, Barack Obama is mixed race. I don't think that gets pointed out enough and no one ever mentions it. So I just wanted to say that.
To clear the distinction up: Barrack Obama is most accurately called African-American and Michelle is most accurately called black. Black identity is most strongly associated with the people and ancestors of those who were subjected to racialized slavery and apartheid. African-American, or in Barry's case, Kenyan-American. But, I don't think anyone will ever stop you from calling Barack Obama a black american.
The reason I perceive it as not okay to refer to the descendant of freed slaves as African American is to do with bloodlines. The Atlantic Slave Trade dates back to the 1500s so some black people;s ancestors have been living on the continent for longer than there has been an American. For me at least, this is why calling someone African-American is pretty whack. Black goes both ways in my mind since people of African descent are still stigmatized on the basis of their blackness and it is I guess just much easier to say.
Also, a black person could be Jamaican, Dominican, St. Lucian, Barbutian, Bahamanian or Haitian so assuming they are of African descent on skin color is double whack since it erases their Carribbean heritage. And before anyone goes and says "yeah but they were African before that" let me restate that black people have lived in North American for 500 years.
In that way, it could be more appropriate to call a black American Haitian before you'd call them African. But since they don't really have any way to tell you, you're for sure assuming so African-American is just in general pretty PC whitewashing and not a more accurate term.
Apologies in advance if I'm not following correctly. I got maybe five hours of sleep, just got off a full eight-hour shift, and I'm still giddy from a Key & Peele marathon. But I thought I'd provide a couple of insights.
Mixed person here; white and Puerto Rican. I pass for white, but the minute someone learns of my Puerto Rican ancestry, I'm forever the "Puerto Rican friend." For better or for worse, being referred to the "more ethnic part" is a given for mixed people. Myself, I don't get offended nor do I say "Well, actually..." when someone refers to me as one or the other. (At least white people are more eager to recognize that part of my heritage than other Puerto Ricans, but that's a rant for another day.)
If you're wondering, yes, that Ethnicity/Race section on questionnaires is a recurring foe of mine. I've often had to check the Other box, but it's nothing I lose sleep over.
On both sides of my family, people didn't keep careful records. Particularly on the Puerto Rican side, as it's a mix of African, maybe some Taino, and a hodgepodge of European (and I guess illiteracy may have helped... or not helped). I have no way of knowing which African nations my ancestors came from. I have no way of knowing if it was only Spanish and French from the Old World. I don't even know if other Caribbean people came along on their long boats, had a good time with the other islanders, and rowed on to the next booty call. (Look, it's my heritage, I'll poke fun at it if I want.)
We do have Afro-Puerto Ricans in our family, but they call themselves black. Come to think of it, I don't think I've met a Puerto Rican who referred to themselves as Afro-Puerto Rican, but that could be a Stateside thing.
Fun fact: In Puerto Rico, negro/negra (pronounced "NEH-gro"/"NEH-gra") is a term of endearment and isn't racist to us. My dad explained that it "dates back to the days when all Puerto Ricans were black." Maybe it's simplifying matters, but it recalls a part of our history.
On my mom's side, it gets a little easier... kinda. Irish and Scottish. But then you have to consider the tribes living in America. We claim Cherokee, mostly because of my half Cherokee great-grandmother, but what about other tribes that may have intermarried with us? They're from South Carolina, but perhaps they identified as Melungeon (a mix of European, Native American, and African), which is another melting pot from that part of America.
If you're mixed or have no way of knowing, you may have to go with a condensed or "catch-all" term. So it's white and Puerto Rican for me... or Other.
I am also mixed. I identify as mixed. Most of the time I pass a mostly white but I have asian features as well. Both parts of that heritage are important to me as is the fact that I'm mixed. It doesn't really matter to me what someone calls be. But if someone asks, I'm not going to erase one.
As a mixed Black woman, it rankles to be called 'African American' as I have no ties to Africa other than DNA ancestry. All of the generations before me, as far back as I can determine, were born in the USA. I'd much rather be called 'Black' than 'African' though most people look at me as 'mixed', especially since my skin and eyes are light. The hair gives it away, though. LOL.