I am a Norwegian Texan born in Japan. These are my origins, my heritages, my cultures; they have defined my ethnicity. As I untangle the threads of influence in the tapestry of my own ethnic identity, three main themes emerge: those places where my ancestors, my parents, and I were born.
My parents had been Lutheran missionaries to Japan for nine years, raising my three older sisters, when I came along with an auspicious beginning: I was born nearest in time to Crown Prince Hirohito, out of all the babies in Japan. My photograph-- and that of my poor mother-- was on the front page of every newspaper in the country when I was two hours old!
I grew up in Japan until I reached the age of eight. Through the years that I remember well, I was the only American child within fifty miles. My mother home-schooled me, but I was certainly as fluent in Japanese as my friends. While we were active in church, it was my father's church; so if I was influenced by Japanese socialization-- intentional attempts to control my development-- it was through television. My mother did teach me Japanese-- I remember kana (Japanese phonetic alphabet) blocks mixed in with my ABC blocks-- and, presumably, polite public manners suitable for our surroundings. While that may be socialization, it is at least non-standard.
Growing up bilingual, especially with English and Japanese, gave me two rather different modes of thinking. The culture-affiliation hypothesis-- that bilinguals will tend toward behavior consistent with the culture of the language being spoken-- is clearly true from my experience. I have witnessed similar changes in other people when switching from one language to another; a dramatic example is the abrupt shift in demeanor, posture, tone of voice, etc., in American girls of Japanese descent when a white male suddenly changes from English to Japanese. The effects of two dissimilar sets of self-referents also impacted my thoughts: could the implications of both ways be consistent? Is there one that is true, or does it depend on the people involved, or the language in use? I do not recall pondering this as a child, but these factors had to come to some balance in my developing mind.
There is at least one indigenous emotion that I had; I believe that my social behavior is still affected by this enculturation. During those years I remember being very "hazukashii," which is adequately translated shy or bashful. However, it is not quite the same. The feelings I experienced internally during a "hazukashii" moment were, possibly, the same embarassment and shyness an American might feel; but the social effect was different. While a Japanese group might chuckle at someone's blunder, it is more of a common experience, with the observers partaking of the "hazukashii." It is sympathetic in one sense, but the blunderer also feels shame: the responsibility for causing embarassment in all present. It may be akin to the "smiling" reaction (in public) of many Japanese to unpleasantries.
In 1968, my family spent several weeks travelling through Russia and Europe. We were on our way "home" to Texas, but this was when I was first conscious of my Norwegian heritage.
Johann Flagstad immigrated to the United States in 1836, arriving in Galveston, The Republic of Texas, on the good ship Atalanta. He chose to Anglicize his name to John Homerstad, using the family's ancestral farm name, Homerstad, located near Hamar, Norway. When we visited Norway, we easily located Homerstad (the farm), still clearly labeled as such; we found it to be owned by non-relatives who were familiar with and proud of the Flagstad heritage. They actually had a picture of Kirsten Flagstad on their mantle; she was a famous opera singer early in this century, and some sort of cousin or aunt of mine. This experience had a strong impact on me: strangers proud of my name!
John-- recently Johann-- made his way up the Brazos River to central Texas, eventually coming to Bosque County, to settle in a community named Norse. Bosque County is still primarily Norwegian, with small towns and many family farms. My father grew up on the family farm now owned by his brother, Lloyd, just a few miles from the Lutheran church at Norse. He was confirmed and married in this church, and even pastored this same church the last years before he retired. During his tenure, King Gustav V actually visited, on the sesquicentennial of the establishment of this church, the oldest active congregation of Norwegian descent in the United States.
My mother's family seems to be a result of the American melting pot, mainly of Western European stock. She also grew up on a family farm, some 30 miles from my father's. I do not have much information on this side; rumor has it, however, that we are related to some Hendersons who had a hand in the Texas Revolution.
After living in Japan and travelling the world, we moved to a small town in central Texas. My parents chose to live near their home towns, so we could visit my grandparents and other relatives regularly. I lived in several areas of the state well into my adulthood.
I received fairly typical socialization in Texas: classes in Texas history and politics; field trips to the Alamo and other historic sites; school plays covering local history to Shakespeare to ancient Greece; chaperoned dances; Boy Scouts; and so on. These worked toward the intended effects: love for, pride in, and allegiance to the best state in the Union.
A constant in my life in Texas was frequently visiting relatives. I see that I inherited a number of typical Scandinavian characteristics, such as a general reticence, a tendency toward passive/aggressive behavior, and a strong preference for blond hair and blue eyes. I do not believe anyone would deliberately raise children to have, say, passive/aggressive tendencies, so I attribute these results to enculturation: that is the way my family is, so I turned out that way, too.
There are some other factors I could have written about-- interpersonal distance, gaze, styles of humor, styles of boasting-- that I recognize have influenced my personality. More to the point, I feel some of these aspects of my person-- my ethnicity-- have not served me well in the American culture, particularly in terms of making friends or performing in a job interview.
Many of these ideas have become clear to me only during the preparation of this paper. It seems clear to me that essentially all of the cultural and ethnic effects I feel are due strictly to the experiences I have had. I believe that each of us, regardless of country, century, or status, ends up with an ethnic identity simply as a result of our experience. We may be confidently aware of it; we may not. It may have been intentionally imposed, or accidental. We may like it, or resent it. Understanding the processes of influence can be of great benefit in learning to cope effectively with the results.