Melting Pot or Mosh Pit

We celebrated the 4th with Mexican beers and California limes in Koozies probably made in China.

It made me reflect on the multicultural mosh pit that we find ourselves in today. We’re all dancing in different ways here to the same music of life. Sometimes there’s hugging, more often pushing and shoving.

My wife is half Ukrainian and half English. I’m a Scotch-English-German-French hybrid. I’m generations removed from the other side of the pond. She’s one generation removed.

Her mom arrived at Ellis Island as a child. The eldest sister of a large Ukrainian family of World War II refugees. They were arranged to be taken in by a farming family in the Midwest. They were put up in a dirty old chicken coop and put to work on the farm. None of them spoke English. Alex’s mom, then just a scared little girl, learned enough at grade school to tell someone about their poor living conditions, and this kindhearted person helped them get into a better place.

I’d guess that without that person’s help, things may not have worked out the way they did. Alex’s mom probably would not have gone on to get a degree in microbiology from Indiana University, where she met Alex’s dad, also a microbiologist and the English half of her. Fast-forward to many years later, and I wouldn’t have ever met this beautiful American-Ukrainian-English girl who’s now my wife.

Hopefully, America can get back to being a melting pot, but in the meantime, I want to say thank you to everyone out there who finds it in them to help someone navigate the mosh pit of life as we now know it.




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