RED & YELLOW. BLACK & WHITE. Pts. 1-3

Pt. 1

After high school I attended a small parochial college, and a full four decades later I was privileged to join the faculty of the same school; which had, by now, metamorphosed into a university with a student body that had grown by a factor of 10, and a faculty which had grown at a proportionately higher rate.

As part and parcel of one chapter in our textbook, I was called upon to teach a segment on “The American Melting Pot.” The implication of the chapter was that ‘the good ole USA’ is, among the nations of the world, the most diverse country on the face of the earth. Every race, nationality, religion and creed exists here. As The Great Seal of the United States and our coinage attest, “E Pluribus Unum.” Out of Many. One.

Since my tenure as an adjunct professor at my alma mater something has come to light which has offered me a whole new perspective on that “Out of Many, One” adage; so familiar to anyone who has ever pulled a penny from their pocket.

While I had always been very much aware of my European heritage, as the bulk of white Americans hail from such ancestral lands as England, Ireland, Scotland, France and Germany, since my mother and I received the results of our recent DNA tests a wealth of unexpected information has come to light.

It seems that in addition to each and every nation I alluded to in the previous paragraph, my ancestral lineage includes a small representation of (drum roll) Spanish, Arab, Jewish and Sub-Saharan (Black African) bloodlines. 

Pt. 2

To say I was surprised, (and pleasantly so) would be a gross understatement. For you see, as a student of not only genealogy, but history, I found myself reflecting not only on my geographical origins, and the myriad of people groups from which I sprang, but the assorted histories of the lands from which my ancestors hailed.

Any number of historical circumstances and consequences immediately spring to mind.

The Fall of Jerusalem and the Diaspora. The Roman Conquest of England and surrounding territories. The Crusades. William the Conqueror. The Magna Carta. The Slave Trade and the subjugation and forced exportation of millions of hapless native peoples. The Potato Famine. The IRA and their decades old rebellion against the British. The 3^rd Reich and the wholesale slaughter of the Jewish people.

They are me

I am them

I am the living, breathing, moving incarnation of multiplied billions of my multi-ethnic grandparents. I am the exquisite combination of each and every one of these who preceded me, the receiver of their legacies, and heir of their hopes and dreams. He in whom they have invested their expectations for the future, and the entity by which they have any further potential to ‘leave something behind.’

Pt. 3

I was just watching the closing 1985 segment of Richard Dawson’s final appearance on the game show, “Family Feud.”

He has set aside five minutes to speak to the audience and the viewers at home. Richard proceeds to thank his producers and directors and the staff who operate so diligently behind the scenes. He makes a reference to some who have felt it was a bit tacky for him to have done all that kissing of the female contestants over the years. I admit, I was one of them. (The opinionator, not the contestant).

As he closes, our very British game show host says something that ‘rings a bell’ with me.

“We have tried to throw open this program to all kinds of people. When I came on board I was determined that anyone who could play the game was welcome on this show. Your common, everyday folks. Those in wheelchairs and the blind. People of all colors and creeds.

And I think of something my mother once told me back in the 40’s. England was mobilizing for war, and as a little fellow I recall seeing men and women of different colors going off to the front. It hadn’t occurred to me ‘til then that my country was so diverse.

And when I mused about this to my mother, she said,

‘Well now Richard, have you ever seen a rainbow?’

To which I responded,

‘Yes, of course, mum.’

And my mother continued,

‘And isn’t it made up of the most lovely colors imaginable?’

To which I again responded with an affirmative.

And I will never forget her closing shot.

‘Well, I’d never presume to tell the One who made the rainbow what color to make little children.’”

And our very British game show host closed with,

“What she said to me that day changed my whole life.”

Needless to say, the results of my DNA test, (and Mr. Dawson’s poignant reminder) put a whole new spin on E Pluribus Unum. Out of Many,

… One.


by William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary, Vol. 23. Copyright Pending.

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