Culturally Unaffiliated

Watching a group of people perform a Haka is something that you don't forget. A Haka is a ceremonial Maori challenge. It's listed as a dance, but it feels, look, and sounds like that definition doesn't quite fit the bill. Each Haka is unique to that group of people, and it stands an unquestionable symbol of unity, strength, and the bond shared by the people involved in it.

I envy this. I envy this because I don't have it. We all want what we can't have, but this goes much deeper than dressing, singing, or performing something as unique as the Haka. This goes deeper than how badass it makes you look while you're doing it. This seed of envy that rests inside my heart is directly due to the sad fact that I do not have a culture of my own.

When someone refers to another persons "culture", there can be many meaning. The meaning of culture to me is the way that you and who you perceive to be part of your culture share values, beliefs, fears, hopes, and traditions. Its child rearing, weddings, holidays, births, deaths, sport, and a list of things I won't continue to write because I want to get to the point before the end of the day. I don't have these things.

Perhaps I've overstepped though. I do have some kind of culture when it comes to these things, I just feel as though my perceived culture lacks beauty. It lacks anything that makes it special. It is truly the store brand culture. I loved my upbringing and my childhood, but when I observe the Maori culture, I mourn. I literally sit in front of my computer and long for something I don't and now can't have as tears stream down my face.

Being born in Brazil and adopted by an Irish/Italian family, I was provided with a good upbringing. My family took me in with open arms despite being the biological offspring of strangers and they raised me as their own. No questions asked and no strings attached. I was raised Catholic, which probably wasn't far off from where I would have been had I stayed with my biological parents. I was taught the standards of human existence. Manners, ethics, morals, and general life advice. We celebrated all holidays and we observed what I considered to be "normal" American traditions. On paper, life is very good. Yet, the older I become, the more envious I grow. My grandmother emigrated from Luca, Italy as a child and once her family touched American soil, they were American. Being that this was in the 1910's, this was a means of survival as the nail that sticks out get hammered. My grandfather was born and raised in the midwest to an Irish family around the same time, so he and his family dropped the Irish traditions and adopted a more American lifestyle. I know nothing of the Irish or Italian traditions of my family. We lived as Americans, and things worked out well.

Envy is considered a deadly sin (if you follow that sort of thing), yet I don't find this feeling to be sinful. I don't find this feeling to be rooted in disrespect for my own culture nor do I feel the abundant need to rob the Maori people of their history. I guess you could call it an appreciation from afar. The major roadblock I have these days is the dreaded "cultural appropriation", of which the antonym is "cultural appreciation'. If I didn't know any better, I would model my life and the way I carry myself after this culture that I respect so much, yet I would be labeled a person who has culturally appropriated myself in with the Maori. How do you explain to someone that you are so taken aback with their culture that you have chosen to live as they live in respect? I don't know if that exists. I don't know that it ever will.

What I do know is that now, arguably more than ever, we are divided as a species, a people, and a nation. I'm not suggesting that we all go out and become someone else, but it wouldn't be a bad idea to take a look at another culture and find their strengths. Establish if your hatred for someone is actually jealousy. Take a step outside of your ego and your culture and see if you can learn from someone you know nothing about. The Haka continues to pull at my heart strings, and I am grateful that it does.