It’s the comments that make it
The article, Glorious diversity of our mongrel nation, is a bleeding heart editorial I agree with (although I have, at the moment, chosen to make a life here in Scotland, I would not consider myself a Scot. Lah), but it’s the comments that make it funny. In a pathetic kind of way.
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Yes, I liked this one.
“Are you called Mungo, or Hamish, or Fergus or Donal?
Or do you have an ANGLACIZED or CHRISTIAN NAME brought to our shores by FOREIGNERS?”
I have a t-shirt that has flags from GB, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales on it. The title is “Made In America… From Imported Parts.” The English part is not entirely pure though, since there is a little Hessian and maybe even some Native American Indian too.
When I was growing up, people in some high schools differentiated a bit between those born in California or were “migrants” even if their grandparents were born in the US. Since then I have run into people that were born in California but have southern accents because they grew up in small towns inhabited by people that mostly came from one other state. There are organizations that sort of flaunt early immigration status.
My class at Parochial school was almost strangely diverse. There were kids of African, Chinese, Japanese, German, Russian, and Mexican descent (Irish and GB was the majority). My first real exposure to prejudice was some older kid making a derisive comment about me playing with “colored kids.” I wondered which color she was talking about since there were so many to choose from. I later realized she was likely talking about African Americans, and I thought less about her parents since I figured that is where she learned to make comments like that.
PS: embedded links in the comments do not seem to stand out very much.
My parents were English, (Yorkshire (dad) and Newcastle (mum), 2 completely different countries if you ask the English from those areas…and I was born just after migrating to Australia. So I’m considered by my family to be Aussie.
I was OK with that until Australia employed a New Zealander to coach our Rugby team… now I am invoking my heritage to become a Brit until our Rugby lords come to their senses!
Oddly enough, my parents were supposed to migrate to Canada, but considered being mistaken for an ex-convict was substantially better than being mistaken for American or French!
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