Once our daughter is born, I assume she’ll be some mash-up of the two of us, although the more brown-and-white mixed kids I see, the more I wonder if our little monster will be identifiably brown at all. I always thought of my genetic heritage as weak, non-fat milky white DNA that would easily be overwhelmed by a good infusion of cocoa. I’m beginning to suspect that my mixed Scottish/Slavic heritage is heartier than it lets on.
My husband and daughter are Alaska Native; they are Tlingit. I am an even blend of nearly all things considered Caucasian. In our home we tend to embrace the Tlingit culture stronger than anything else, because, frankly, it’s so much more interesting than the average middle-class white-girl way that I grew up. The greatest thing about being a hybrid family is that we can choose what’s wonderful about being Tlingit. We love hunting, gathering, beautiful Tlingit art, the fantastic jewelry and Tlingit dance.
When I met the wonderful man who would very soon assist me in bearing a son, and later become my husband, the first thing I thought was “Damn he’s hot,” not “Oh, I wonder what nationality he is.” It just didn’t even occur to me.