Trying to rigidly define a cultural identity is futile. I'm reminded of this when some of the callers to our Rick and Donna radio show get irritated when I call myself a Mexican-American, even though I don't speak Spanish, prefer hamburgers to tacos (it's a close call) and can't stand soccer. They prefer that I refer to myself as simply an American.
They're not alone. I used to get grief from Mexicans and other Hispanics who didn't think I'd earned the Latino label. They were irritated not only because I don't know the language but also because I've not seen the need, or felt a desire, to learn it.
The latter criticism has died down significantly in recent years, as the cultural dynamics of what it means to be an American-Latino have changed. Some of the fastest-growing platforms in print and cable television are aimed at Hispanics who aren't fluent in Spanish or sufficiently bilingual to switch languages in mid-sentence.
My retort to critics on both sides of the identity fence has always been the same - This is America. Other people don't decide my cultural identity, I do.
Trying to decide the precise parameters of a dynamic culture is a quagmire, as the Smithsonian Institution is finding out. The New York Times recently detailed the struggle the Smithsonian undergoes as it tries to decide the content and focus of the new National Museum of African American History and Culture. A $500 million building (augmented by a $250 million fund-raising campaign) will open in 2015 on the National Mall in Washington, D.C.
The dilemmas are considerable.
No doubt, slavery will be a dominant theme, but will it be allowed to define the museum's character as one of racial discrimination and societal oppression? Will curators retreat to the tried and true formula of highlighting a list of black "firsts"? And how will the museum handle the issue of race in America, given that it will probably become the nation's intellectual center on the subject? Will race be defined by the predominant history of exclusion or by the generational miracle of ascendancy that led to a Nobel Peace Prize-winning president whose mother was a white Kansan and father a black African?
The late Sen. Jesse Helms was an ardent opponent of establishing a Smithsonian museum for African-American history. He argued that it would trigger a string of history museums based on race and culture.
He was right. The Museum of the American Indian opened a few years ago. The federal Commission on the National Museum of the American Latino is finishing a report to Congress. Can a Commission on the American Asian be far behind?
I think there's a bigger drawback, however. I fear that when we create identity museums we lose historical inclusion, the view that we are one American society no matter our diverse backgrounds.
The slave and the slave-owner share a history. Discrimination against Hispanics and Asians in the Western United States was different but no less significant than that suffered by blacks in the South and East. Conversely, the election of Barack Obama is also a non-African-American achievement, because it could not have been accomplished with black votes alone. We all own our distinct slices, but they all come from the same historical pie.
African American Museum Director Lonnie G. Bunch III isn't concerned about the possible segregation of American history. As he told the Times, "This is not being built as a museum by African Americans for African Americans."
But I predict that's how the institution will be perceived, considering that it will sit next to the National Museum of American History. With that side-by-side relationship, the Smithsonian conveys the view that there are separate but equal versions of our history.
The concept wasn't morally right when it came to drinking fountains and it isn't right when it comes to history museums.
