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Archiver > Scotch-Irish > 1998-02 > 0886836280


From: "Renee C. Greene" <>
Subject: Re: Fw: The Irish in America
Date: Sat, 7 Feb 1998 02:24:40 -0500 (EST)


Ahhh, words of wisdom, Linda.

I so enjoy watching the heritage debates (hee hee) and especially when
the classification of same is challenged. Isn't heritage (truly) a
matter of belief of what you're made of?

Point: I was adopted. From my adopted mother's insecurities sprang
a number of stories about my "birth" relatives over the years.

Story #1: My mother died in childbirth having almost starved to death
from the German occupation. My father was, alledgedly, Scandinavian;
hence, I LOVED cold weather. (STILL do)

Result: I hated all Germans. Period.

Story #2: Both my parents were English. (This was my Mom's favorite)

Result: I was prim and proper (with ulcers from the restraint) -
always a lady! (curling pinky and pursing lips)

Story #3: I just can't remember.

Result: Had difficulty focusing hatred to anyone - for fear I might
be related.

With very fair complexion, I look Irish; from my expressive use of hands
while speaking, I could pass as a blonde Italian; from my height of 5'10"
I would probably be - what? Not Japanese. (but I LOVE their food)
Hate the Irish? I LOOKED Irish. Hate the Scots? Heck no, I love
bagpipes and they're lively! Hate the Jews? Well, who knows when you're
adopted. Hate the blacks? Heck, I thought my "Mammy" WAS my mother -
as a child.

When you're adopted, there's no one to hate. And, alas, no one to
aspire to - of blood.

Then, at age 50 - I learned the surname of my birth father - HENDRY.

I'm a bloody Scotsman! (throwing away high collar blouses and
---------------------- wrapping myself in a plaid blanket)

Eeeps. Or maybe Scotch-Irish.

Then again, perhaps my FATHER was adopted, too. (wink)

Renee Collins-Greene
Email:
(954) 473-2071 Fax: (954) 473-1586

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