American

If this blog is my creative journey and this class - digital storytelling is my "Brigadoon" then I expect that part of this "mich mash" will include poetry along with snippets of life unfolding:  I came up with the poem below when I began thinking of myself in color and I thought it would give you a better idea of who I've become so you can follow where I'm going! 

I AM

Green.  My mother’s clan hails from the Emerald Isle; land of leprechauns, deep in the valley of Kings and castles, my great grandparents had potatoes in the field and in their cup at days end. Their children – Catholics - stuck in a Protestant neighborhood, ran to Scotland to pray.

Age 42, she died on St.Patrick’s day in the stone cold city of New York; this is where she came to dream, to live -like an American, driving on the right, making dreams come true….they say it rained all day for a wee lass born in Glasgow, Scotland.

I am - St Andrews cross laid out in Green and White and Orange.  A lost Scott, whose Irish grandfather played the bagpipes at his oldest daughter’s funeral 

I AM
Red.  My father’s people Red Square, The Red Corner and all things krasni (beautiful), Pushkin and Tolstoy, but NEVER Communist.   My great grandfather travelled through Ellis Island with his wife on his arm and $6 in his pocket - a wealthy man. 

It was his youngest son who found himself a strong “German” woman.   Worse than being Communist – falling in love with a Catholic!  My grandfather lost his Russian history the day he married my grandmother, but paved the road for his youngest son to be a New Yorker first and German second 

I am - spatzle, dumpling, lager and borsch.  The only child born to a New Yorker and a woman from Scotland who died too young. 

I AM

White.   Lilly and cream, almost as white as a ghost, forever “Caucasian”;  this is the color you see when you look at me, the color of my vessel during this lifetime. 

My white skin wraps around my husband’s dark chestnut brown body glowing in the moonlight.  My history passed to my olive skinned daughter, who I raise without color but with an understanding that she is the rainbows perfect symmetry

I am – American.  The perfect combination of Russian, German, Irish, Scott, Catholic and New York; a kaleidoscope filled with bright colored chips of history slowly turned, brings together something new, singular and different.  I proudly stand in multicolor disarray.