YOURS TRULY: THE WALKING/TALKING MELTING POT. Pts. 1-2

My mother had wanted to complete a DNA test for several years, but as an elderly person, and perhaps as a matter of logistics, she had never ordered one. However, I intended to remedy that situation before she went on to her proverbial reward. And thus, on a particular day, I sat down at my desktop computer and ordered a “23 & Me” DNA test kit. By that time, I had previously submitted my own DNA test to “Ancestry.com” and had received the results.

We could not have known at the time, but my mother would pass away shortly after she submitted the requisite flask of saliva, but prior to receiving the results of her DNA test. Interestingly enough, mama said something to me within days of my sealing, and mailing off her kit.

“You know, when I was in high school people used to ask me if I was part black.”

I have always thought that perhaps she was preparing me for what she had suspected for multiplied decades. You see, both she (and I) grew up in the segregated south, and there was, naturally, an undercurrent of supremacy, purposeful or sub-conscious, circulating “in the veins” of European-Americans who lived below the Mason-Dixon Line.

And having seen my mom’s adolescent and young adult photographs, as well as having personally known and interacted with my maternal grandmother and great aunts, there could be little doubt that “something had been going on in the woodshed.” I mean we’re talking about “dark city;” (so much so, that I am surprised that they hadn’t been barred from white schools).

Pt. 2

And as I have already indicated, my mother never got to see the results of her DNA test; having passed away a couple of weeks before I received notification that it had been finalized, and was ready to view.

As a result, I cannot say that I was altogether surprised when her DNA results indicated that my mother possessed a rather small African-American bloodline. (However, since DNA tests are subject to some error, and my mother and her relatives were, after all, so dark-complexioned, I am convinced that her paper results belie a much greater percentage than the test actually indicated).

As a former university professor, some years back I taught a course titled, “Educational Psychology” in a local school of higher learning. One of the sub-topics which we considered was, “America: A Melting Pot.” (And my friends, it truly is).

Given the results of my mother’s and my DNA tests, as well as other documented family resources among my father’s and mother’s ancestral bloodlines, I possess the following genetic heritage:

English, Irish, Welsh, Scottish, French, German, Swiss, Danish, Italian, Arab, Jewish, Spanish, Iraqi and/or Iranian, Native-American, African-American

Had my mother and I completed our DNA tests by that season in my life, as a university professor I would have shared with my students the diversity of ethnicities of which I was, and am part and parcel. (To be sure, I am not personally aware of anyone with such diverse origins as yours truly. I am a walking/talking melting pot in my own right).

And unlike these nit-wits who walk around extolling the virtues of their Aryan ancestry, I am rather proud of my ethnic heritage. I can only smile when I think of the ignorance of such people; given each and every one of the 8 billion people who inhabit this planet are a complicated mix of all three racial groups. (I mean, they don’t call it a “family tree” for nothing). All one has to do is do the math. Simple multiplication will tell you that if you go back about 1500 years, or 33 generations, each and every one of us have (drum roll) …1 billion direct ancestors or great grandparents, and with each preceding generation this number doubles in size!

No particular way in which to end a blog like this, I suppose, but I am grateful for each and every one of my ancestors, and the countries from whence they sprang. It would be fascinating to know their stories, their struggles, and their ultimate successes.


by William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Pt. 71. Copyright Pending.

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