Thursday, April 21, 2005

 

America

I recently attended the Green Roots Workshop at my alma mater, New College of California, San Francisco. Part of the community outreach for their Irish Studies program, the workshop for Irish Americans is, in part, a guide and exchange on research in Irish genealogy. The social and cultural aspects, however, count for just as much in my book.

So when I bumped into my American Indian friend the other day in front of the school, I told him about my new quest to find relatives in Ireland. As someone who attends his peoples' Sundance every summer on Lakota reservations in South Dakota, I figured he'd be impressed. Instead, he expressed surprise at learning I was Irish. As the proud grandson of Pearl O'Neal, I asked him why, to which he answered, "I thought all Irish people were loud."

We both laughed at this, and I replied that I was also Danish. Nodding his head in comprehension, this seemed to satisfy him.

Having since read a little more on the history of Danish and Norwegian Vikings that fought my Celtic ancestors before blending into Irish society long ago, I was amused by the idea of Viking blood somehow toning down the feistiness of my Celtic DNA.

Nevertheless, the Danes probably were responsible for my Irish grandmother's red hair, and perhaps the more recent infusion of Danish moderation into the O'Neal line actually made me a more reasonable person. Still, I find all this talk of rowdy Irish kind of amusing coming from a descendant of the welcoming party from the Battle of the Little Bighorn.

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