domingo, 29 de enero de 2012

Can you be half Panamanian?


I get this comment a lot: "Your daughter's are half Panamanian, half American".

I have to admit, that declaration rubs me the wrong way. My first question is, which half?

How can they be half of something they are completely? They were born in Panama that makes them Panamanian. They have Panamanian birth certificates, not half of one. They speak Spanish (and not with an accent like me). Their family is here, their life. How can they be only half?

And what about American? They don't have half an American passport, either. They don't get half of their rights as citizens. They have a real, live, American mother who makes them American food, speaks to the in English, and reads them the same Dr. Seuss and Little Golden Books that I read growing up. We celebrate Christmas the American way, dye Easter eggs, sing Happy Birthday in English. They are American. Not just half of them.

I understand the statement, though. People are saying, "They are different than what I am used to. They aren't growing up in one culture like I did. They speak my language, but also one I can't understand. I don't know how to categorize them. So I will stick half of them here, and half of them here."

I get that. They are growing up in a different world than I did. Sometimes I just sit and look at them, a little amazed. These are MY daughters. They speak Spanish, their olive skin, dark hair, and dark eyes, don't look like me. They have had experiences as toddlers than many people in my culture only read about. They are mine, and yet totally unlike me. Unique. Special. Beautiful. Just right.

Not half this and half that. Just wholly what they are supposed to be. Wholly themselves. Belonging to two nations. Sharing with both. Seeing the world in a broader way than I did growing up.

Not half and half. Just wonderfully who they are supposed to be.