On multiculturalism

Isn’t multiculturalism fun? We have so many interesting and diverse arrivals coming to our towns. It is fascinating to watch the interactions and I daresay occasional collision! In the little town of Euphoria, SC, where I grew up we had a wonderful Italian family, the Lambruscos. They brought such flavor and accent to the community it was as if they were cooking just for us all the time, which was only part of the story since Mr. L. was a garage mechanic. Mrs. L., on the other hand, was a wonderful cook and gained the reputation for bringing the essence of foreign food to our town. Her magical tomato sauce, which she shared unstintingly, prompted Mr. Peach, the grocer, to stock actual pasta varieties for the first time.
It happened that the Lambruscos began to receive unwelcome notices from the Internal Revenue. It didn’t take long for the mailman to be persuaded, with the assistance of Mr. L. and various other town folk that these unpleasant envelopes addressed to the Lambrunos at his box were undeliverable as written since there were no such persons of that name at that address. This allowed Mr. L. time enough to get his affairs in order with my Daddy’s help and to make a fair presentation before the great powers of taxation.
When Momma was annoyed with us as children, she called us little “pipsissewas”. We assumed that this was meant as a mean and derogatory label. It had a slightly sinister Indian sound to our ears and vaguely reminded us of the victims of child sacrifice. Only later did we learn that it describes a lovely native woodland flower and that the effect of the pronounced sound of the word was the only important part.
Mr. Thistledown was the kind Englishman who had a management position at the local mill. The enchanting Mrs. Flowerdew was the accomplished headmistress of my boarding school, looked upon with great affection as an immigrant of high accomplishment. Mr. Olazabal was our Spanish teacher and Mrs. Klemencik was our Latin teacher, which led to many amusements of the teenaged-girl variety. Where would we be without the refreshing influx of new names and faces and talents? It is my feeling that the America of today would be much poorer with less diversity and that dreadful creeping xenophobia is a serious impediment to our social evolution. It takes generations for acceptance to take hold. The funny unfamiliarity with names gradually devolves from being a joke to being a sign of ignorance. In the mean time we stumble along as best we can to apply the lessons of phonics to completely foreign letter combinations without giving it a second thought. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. The good sports put up with it and we can all laugh. Cheers,
Celeste