<p>I grew up in a farming area of central Washington, where some 30-40% of the population was of Mexican descent (it’s probably now closer to 65%). There were a few other groups who still had a strong cultural identity other than “main-stream American”–descendants of Russian-German pioneers, 2nd-3rd generation Japanese-Americans, and a few Basque families. I think that’s really the key–how do people think of themselves? In my family, we spoke Spanish with the grandparents and English in our own home, and ate more traditional Mexican than mainstream foods. My parents were active in politics and my uncles and older brother served in the military, and my dad was a successul farmer and paid lots of taxes–clearly, they were all participating in the benefits AND obligations of citizenship. But if anyone had asked us how we self-identified, although we REALLY meant Mexican-American (since our grandparents immigrated to the US in 1924 and my dad and his nine siblings were all born in the US), we would have responded, “we’re Mexican,” and even today, I say that I am Mexican-American when speaking to other Americans. Since I DO have a strong cultural identity, if I were to simply respond that I am American, that would be ignoring an important piece of who I am. </p>
<p>Still, in my everyday life, it doesn’t come up often. I am part of an overseas community of mostly military Americans of many cultural/racial backgrounds (and many blended backgrounds) who have lived all over the US and world. I think I am very typically Mexican in appearance, but my married name is not a give-away, and I don’t have a distinctive accent when I speak English, so I doubt if most people even think much about my ethnic heritage when they meet me. The local people probably think I’m Italian or Turkish until I start talking, and then I’m sure my pathetic attempts at the language immediately mark me as an American.</p>