Like-me-ism

One of the enduring mysteries of life in the U.S.A. is that children are taught, routinely, that this is a melting pot country, that we are enriched by the overlapping cultures and traditions, that here anybody can grow up to be anything – yet “like-me-ism” persists as a decision mechanism for so many.

I got thinking about this again while reading “Pennsylvania Primary Provides New Litmus Test for Racism” by Marisa Treviño (on her Latina Lista blog.) In fact, you’ll find a very similar comment there, beneath her thoughts weaving together threads seen from events in Arizona, Colorado, Wisconsin, and the plight(s) of the children of the FLDS in Texas.

We lament the blindness of others

Why is there so much tension between Catholics and Protestants in Ireland? They’re Caucasian Christians who eat the same foods and speak the same language, yet they perpetrate acts of hatred and terrorism upon their neighbors… Well, thankfully that situation does seem to be moderating, but it’s a perfect reminder on how small the differences that lead to strife can be. Neighbors in Iraq who have adopted different versions of Islam have taunted, shunned, and vilified each other in much the same patterns as those Christians in Northern Ireland.

Am I more like an Iraqi or a Honduran? Reading my words you don’t know. My skin may be darker or paler than yours; I was born in Chicago, Illinois, and raised in the U.S., so am I more like the Protestant from a large family in Northern Ireland or the kid born in Hawaii and raised by a single mom who moved to Chicago after law school to organize destitute communities ravaged by unemployment – and is now running for President?

Like-me-ism is easy to understand.

Like-me-ism doesn’t ask us to get out of our comfort zones. In fact, it is only relatively recently that we developed many alternatives to being just like our parents were, and their parents before them. If my ancestors were slavers, or crusaders, is there any comfort in that? If my ancestors lived in Moscow, Berlin, Bangkok, or Rome, would I not find a lot more people like me by going back there?

No, I would not, because my grandfather’s grandfather raised his family here, and while I am visually similar to those ancestors, I am culturally quite different. I am a product of my roots, but I am defined by my experiences, not my ancestors. I like Thai food, but I like Mexican food and Margaritas, too. I like Fettucini Alfredo with Australian wine, and the Ethiopian food at the Blue Nile in Minneapolis. I suppose that the place my grandfather’s grandfather was born may even feature “American” restaurants now, but I would not be at home there.

No, I am at home here, in the great melting pot, where vestiges of like-me-ism will linger long after I have passed. I am a bit more comfortable around people with similar views and tastes, but I am energized and enlivened by the myriad of choices and differences I encounter when stepping outside my own little world. Diversity is opportunity, and I hope to help those who distrust it discover how much there is to taste in life. The time is now: we must lead by example.

Are you like me?

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