I’ve always known I was a child of the world. I was kind of
hoping that I was a child of the universe but sadly, a recent DNA test shows no
alien heritage.
I didn’t take the test but my brother did. His children gave
him and his wife the tests for Mother’s and Father’s Day this year, and I have
since told them that it was a pretty darn good gift for me as well.
Before the test, when people asked my heritage I could
easily respond: 75% German, 25% Irish – loosely rounded out of course. Now, I
have to ask them if they have an hour? (My mother would have responded “American,”
and that would have been the end of that discussion.)
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My brother teased me through the reveal of our heritage. He
asked what DNA I thought was running around my body. I gave him the usual, to
which he revealed that our Western European heritage, including German, was just
37%. With my sense of DNA self already coming undone, I learned that this
portion of my heritage could include ancestors from Poland, Austria,
Switzerland, Belgium, France, the Netherlands, Croatia, Hungary, Slovakia, and/or
Romania.
No wonder I have never particularly liked German food.
I’d known that my mother’s family immigrated as Germans to
the U.S. but from Russia. This opened up a discussion between my brother and me
about that side of the family. I knew that somehow we were descendants of
Germans who had gone with Catherine the Great to Russia when she married the Tsar.
What I didn’t know was that Catherine the Great had invited Germans to
immigrate to Russia to help populate the huge country. However, the Germans
didn’t assimilate well, kept to themselves and lived as Germans in Russia,
including maintaining the German language. So,
ultimately, while my mother was the first of the Sturtz children to be born in
the U.S., she didn’t learn English until she started kindergarten in the
mid-1920s.
Oh, now I get it.
Twenty-two percent of my DNA comes directly from Great
Britain. No way! I’m British! No wonder I’m addicted to Brit Coms on HULU. OMG,
I must have ROYAL DNA in here somewhere…but where? I must now insist that you
all refer to me as Dame Donna or Lady DU. (I’m doing the Queen’s wave to you
all.)
Another 20% of my DNA make-up is from Ireland. OK, so I wasn’t
too far off and I do really like the accent. My grandmother, Edna Louise, was
Irish…but now, who knows what else?
By this point, my brother and I have had several text
exchanges as he continued to reveal parts of pieces of my heritage.
Twelve percent, he tells me, has been traced to Italy and
Greece (I love Greek food! --- except stuffed grape leaves and lamb ;-). This
portion of me can reach into Serbia, Kosovo, Bulgaria, Albania, Montenegro,
Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Macedonia. Serbia, Kosovo, Bulgaria, Albania,
Montenegro, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Macedonia --- are you kidding me?
Except for news coverage and restaurants, what do I know about this part of the
world --- and yet their in me.
Now he tells me we’re down to trace regions for our DNA.
Four percent from Eastern Europe --- Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus,
Poland, Ukraine, Czech Republic, and Moldova.
This makes sense to me since we knew that second
cousins had traveled through some of those countries in the 60’s or 70’s in
search of relatives and found them. Of course, by now, I am coming to
understand the impact of migration on my make-up.
One percent of the DNA is solidly from Norway and other
Scandinavian countries.
Less than 1% can be traced to Finland and Russia --- I told
you those Germans kept to themselves.
The most interesting surprise to me was my West Asian and the
Caucasus connections. Ancestors of mine could be traced to Israel and Palestine.
(I make this point specifically. It wouldn’t be the first time that my
ancestors found themselves on different sides in a fight.)
Yet also from Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Jordan, Syria, Iraq and
Iran. (These very people and places our politicians and hate mongers have tried so hard to teach
us: 1. to hate because they are all a bunch of terrorists, and 2. that they
like many other ethnic groups shouldn’t be allowed into the U.S. and if they
are already here --- even the ones with citizenship --- should be shipped out.)
Now what do I do? I’m truly one of them, even if just by a trace. Can I stay?
As I am writing this, I am listing to a discussion with Pakistani
American parents Khizr and Ghazala Kham, whose son, Army Captain Humayun Khan
was lost in Iraq while serving in the U.S. military. They came to public
attention after presidential candidate Donald Trump attacked all Muslims
including American Muslims.
How is it that we can so easily condemn all people for the bad
actions of a few? (Which begs the question: Why haven’t we shipped out some of
those crazy extremist Christians? I bet I could trace their DNA to somewhere
else. Ok, I couldn’t do it, but I’d be happy to pay for it!) tee hee.
All of this also suggests to me that while I was raised
Christian, my ancestors may well have been Jewish, Muslim, Greek Orthodox and
who knows what else.
I’m a very diverse party of one headed to Taboon’s for my
comfort food: Chicken Ghallaba. Middle Eastern food, I love it.
Post Script: I have since received several website links from a friend that seek to prove that we can all trace our DNA to Mars. So perhaps I am a child of the universe after all.
My brother has advised me that since the Earth is in the universe, I can safely claim to be a child of the universe. So I do.
Now, I'm working on the title of Child of the Galaxy!
