The Mayflower. A Thanksgiving feast with a tribe of Native Americans. Pilgrims with their silly buckle shoes and bucket hats. When I was in kindergarten, this was my definition of an American. As I progressed through school and learned more about history, my definition changed. There was a transition from that of English pioneers, to our founding fathers, Betsy Ross, and the freedom that only a majestic, bald eagle can display (or in the case of, a turkey). Somewhere in between third and fourth grade, there appeared within me an affinity for Native Americans. After visiting Native American dwellings in places such as Mesa Verde, and developing a better understanding of their history and culture, I was able to define ‘American’ as a Wappo, a Sioux, or an Arapaho, to name a select few.
The fourth and (at this point) definite change of what I considered to define an American, occurred during my junior year of high school. I was in a U.S. history class that was graced by a teacher who was tolerant, caring, and globally aware. Between her influencing characteristics, and my multiethnic classmates from varied backgrounds, a fourth definition of ‘American’ was instilled in me, and still stands today.
Being an American is a beautiful thing, because anyone can become an American. Any individual from any ethnicity, culture, country, and religion that comes to America in search of a better life and is willing to work hard to achieve that is an American. If you appreciate this unique place and consider yourself blessed to have been born or brought here, you are an American. I am proud to be a descendent of people who were true American pioneers, and I take pride in the good and hopeful opportunities that America still provides people.
