You may have caught wind of a little mumbling from about Multicultural Day at school this week. Yes, we had Multicultural Day, and yes, it totally got on my nerves. Why? Because my ancestors are from, oh, West Virginia. I can tell you anything you want to know about The Roots and Will Smith, I can even show you a copy of the book that shows how my family tree fails in every way to branch for a few generations. I cannot, however, tell you about what part of Ireland we are from. I have no idea where in the the Ukraine my grandfather was born. I couldn't fathom a guess as to where The Donor's family came from in Germany or England. We are good old American mutts, and we like it that way.
But, like a good PTA mom, I totally played along. I let my son choose which part of his heritage to do a project on, and he chose Ireland.
This is good because his Auntie Molly sort of lived in Ireland for a longish time. She kind of made a baby there and shit, yo. And once upon a time, she mailed me a letter from the motherland, and I still have it, and so my son had his artifact from Ireland to contribute to the project.