Genetically Confused

In an effort to clear up a bit o' confusion, I will tell you a true statement. I am not Cuban. Nor are either of my parents. It has been a common misconception throughout my life that I am of a minority race, but alas, this is not the case, although there are probably many people who believe otherwise. Why would they believe otherwise, you ask? Perhaps it is because I told them I was. Much like my friend who thought I was Jewish based on the fact that when asked why I didn't eat pork I told him, "Because I am Jewish." But again, I am not.

And so, reader, you may be thinking to yourself "Why would she lie about something like her ethnicity like that? That's really sort of stupid." In which case, you would be correct. Allow me to explain.

I am frequently asked if I am Hispanic, Asian or Pacific Islander, even by people who are Hispanic, Asian or Pacific Islander. For whatever reason, I have been described as being a little bit exotic looking. At times I will flippantly tell someone that yes, I am indeed this minority race they believe me to be, mostly because it is so funny to me because no one in my family - to my knowledge - bears any claim to any nationality other than mainstream, white America. These people, however, don't get my joke. The people I allow to carry on in their lives without knowing the truth about my identity are commonly people I'll never see again. For instance, random people at a bar or the cashier at a gas station in southern Utah. People who I will see again get the truth. And that is that a distant relative of mine is Native American, hence the color and facial features that contradict the Scandinavian, Welsh, Irish and German heritage that the rest of my family exhibits.

And as for the friend who believed me to be Jewish...Well, I thought he knew the joke. The punchline was funny, though. I was standing there as he was telling someone that I was Jewish. I told him I was not. He told me I was so. I laughed and asked him what would have made him think I was Jewish when indeed I was not. He looked at me blankly and replied in a simple and honest tone, "Because you told me you were." Needless to say, we were both confused for a short while.

And so the truth is out. I am sorry to any and all whom I have misled over the years, but now you are all in on my little slice of life's humor. And as a mini disclaimer, I will tell you quickly why it is that I find it so amusing. Because people feel the need to classify me as something they can identify with. Much like people dispise ambiguous gender, there are people who are uncomfortable being unsure what ethnicity I represent and must ask. Most often they assume I am the same as they are. At times it can be rather flattering, to be honest. For instance, just the simple fact that they see something in me immediately with which they feel they can identify. Other times it works out poorly for the both of us. For instance, when I worked at the bank two men waited for me to help them so that I could speak Spanish with them. We were all upset when I couldn't speak Spanish and they called their friend to translate, who explained to me that they thought that of all the bank employees, I would be bilingual. Misunderstanding #1869.

And just for the record, I do eat pork.