Blood Kaleidoscope

As a 20-something, I often hear people say, "Everyone is entitled to their own opinion." Sometimes I wonder if that's true. The bigger question that it leads to is, "Is it entitlement or a freedom?" Sure, everyone has an opinion. Here in the States, we have the freedom to voice those opinions. One of the more popular opinions held by many my age is that racism is wrong. I agree with that. However, sometimes the way the issue is treated is as if racism is not a right. But, at its core, racism is an opinion, correct? It's not a pleasant thought, but it's one that ought to be considered.

I asked myself the other day if I have the right to be racist or classist due to my heritage. The conclusions I arrived at left me uncomfortable at first. But, after further thinking it over, I came to terms with them.

Let's start with my maternal grandmother. She was from a poor family in North Carolina which was mostly German and English. Her father was a paranoid schizophrenic who left the family because he believed her mother had cheated on him. This left my great-grandmother, a seamstress, with six children to feed. She came to a point where she could no longer afford to care for all of her children. She opted to send three of them to an orphanage so that they would have food and a good education. My grandmother was one of those three. She went on to become a teacher.

Her husband also came from humble beginnings. His father was a pig farmer with Welsh ancestry. His mother was an upper-middle-class girl who claimed to be related to Queen Elizabeth I. Unfortunately, the two had a shotgun wedding due to my grandfather's conception. So, he was raised on a pig farm with a mother who resented her situation. Fortunately, my grandfather grew up to become an engineer. He and Grandma moved to Virginia and had four children.
So far, we have two people who, though European, worked hard to reach the middle class.

Let's go to the other side of the family. My paternal grandmother has the most pure-blood European in her. Her father immigrated from England to West Virginia. He worked there as a coal miner with his father from the age of 12. This coal mining family is related to King Edward I of England. He married an American woman who was mostly German. They had ten children, the youngest of which was my grandmother. She became a math teacher.

My paternal grandfather was also from a West Virginian coal-mining family. His father was neighbors with the Hatfield family growing up. Yes, I am speaking of the family involved in the Hatfield-McCoy feud on the West Virginia-Kentucky border. Grandpa knows so much about that history because of his father's stories from his neighbors' first-hand accounts. Grandpa's mother was full-blooded Melungeon. (We'll get to that in a moment.) His older brother fought in Vietnam, but died in a car accident shortly after returning to the States. His younger brother was murdered by some local idiot. Yet, Grandpa became a history and geography teacher. He and Grandma also moved to Virginia and had four children.

These two couples worked hard to earn their place in the middle class. But, there's a piece of the story we still haven't reached yet.

What the heck is a Melungeon?

Melungeons are a group of people from the mountains of Appalachia who were discovered by European settlers. These people usually have dark skin, dark (usually black) hair, and blue eyes. They do not appear Native American, and the genes for their look are recessive. Stories of "the dark people from the hills" were told to European settler children to scare them into behaving. They have been studied for years, and it has been difficult to find out where they came from. The most reliable conclusion my family has seen is this: They are a triracial combination. 

The Portuguese came to the New World with the intention of taking it for their king. Some of these people left descendants. Whether this was by force or marriage, we don't know. These descendants somehow made their way north to the mountains. Through further study, it has been found that the Portuguese whose descendants made this trip north had Moorish blood in them. This was due to the Moors' invasion from sub-Saharan Africa during the Crusades. Using logic, one can conclude that these Muslim Moors may have also had some Arab blood in them.

So, let's recap. My family does have a good deal of European in it, but they were generally poor Europeans. We also have Melungeon in us, a people group with African (and, perhaps, Arab) blood used to tell bogey monster tales. But wait, there's more!

My mother discovered a physical feature which led to even further ancestry discovery. On her pinky toe, she has what is called a "sixth toenail." This is a sliver of extra nail found only in those with Mongolian ancestry. The Mongols, how shall I say this, got around. It's highly likely that this trait was passed to her through the German piece of her family. We've inherited a trait from someone's highly unfortunate circumstance. 

How many races do we have now? European, Native North American, African, East Asian, and maybe Middle Eastern. Naturally, one would conclude that I couldn't possibly have the right to be racist or classist, right? Wrong. If everyone truly has a right to their own opinion, I can still technically hold the opinion that I'm better than someone else based on race or class.
That doesn't make my opinion truth, though. As a child of God, I am called to seek truth. If the Bible is true (and I believe it is), I am supposed to love others. Just because I have the freedom to do otherwise does not mean it is wise to take up the opportunity. As a sinful human being, I have to rely on Jesus to show me when I am doing another wrong. Yes, I will admit, I have looked down on others before. No one can say that they have never done so. We live in a world where, at the core, no one is naturally pure of heart. We have to be changed by Christ and follow Him.