The ethnic mutt that I am, I’ve often tried to do the math on exactly “how Irish” I really am. Not an uncommon practice among those of us born in the States to American-born parents in particular (although my mother was born on an Air Force base overseas and her parents both American citizens and my father from an old world French upbringing).
I have Irish ancestry on both sides. My maternal grandfather being ½ Irish, my paternal grandmother being ½ Irish (the other half being Welsh which to many Americans like me may as well be 100% Irish). Let’s be serious, we like to walk around saying we’re Irish, yet don’t know anything about the real culture accept our own bastardised version of Irish custom or the stereotypes of drunken sheep people, bagpipes and kilts.
I’m proud of my Irish heritage. I even tried to learn some Gaelic at one point just for fun and will always be proud of the Long Island farming family from which I come and how surviving famine in Ireland likely made them the successful farmers they are still known as around here many decades since selling most of the gorgeous, fertile land that I had a long shot of inheriting. Most of all, I’m thankful for the fair skin and freckles I have as a result of this bloodline! No one can ever guess what I actually am thanks to my mix of features and coloring!
Being part Irish in New York where we’re known for being quite proud of this ancestry (or any ancestry, really), I wish you all a Happy St. Paddy’s Day! Slainte and G-d Bless!
(It’s not relevant to this, but in case you’re wondering, the rest of me is Mediterranean and Eurasian).