My first fill. Oh geez. >.> I'm sorry for the rambling and the lack of actual nations, but I tried, OP.
In class, they learn that only 15% of Americans can trace their ancestry to before the Revolutionary War. For some reason, she feels proud that she is one of them.
They talk about the Blue Bloods, and she jokes to her friends that she must be one too, but also she wonders.
When it comes to her family history, she finds herself wondering a lot. The antics of the English have always made her laugh. They shouldn't, really, because most of those things aren't exactly laugh-worthy.
But the British Empire holds its appeal, and she loves to smirk and say that the sun will never set on it.
The Blue Bloods claimed that they had superiority because their ancestors were here first (besides the Natives, of course, but who ever remembers them?), and she laughs at the thought. Her ancestor was here first, alright.
It would figure that, of her two most remembered ancestral lines, one came here by choice while the other came by force.
She wonders, curious, if his family ever got to eat that piece of bread. She wonders where he stole it from.
She wonders if he ever regretted it.
She doesn't regret it, of course, but she enjoys existing, so that only makes sense. She wonders how many of them, how many Americans, owe the British their thanks. She wonders who she would thank specifically.
And it's then that she likes to imagine a group of stuffy Englishmen- maybe one a grocer, another perhaps some sort of official- and she likes to imagine thanking them, and then walking away without another word. She wonders if they would be confused, what they'd think.
She wonders if Jobe would smile.
She wonders if Arthur would just turn away.
She wonders how young Germans feel about being called Nazis. Of course, it's a rhetorical question, since the answer is obvious. No one must really like being insulted for what their ancestors did, but she still wonders. She wonders how it hurts when the accusation is given. She wonders how many times they've heard it from Americans. She wonders if they assume most Americans still think that they're all Nazis.
She wonders, if they do assume this, whether or not they are right.
In her small home in America's palm, ethnicity is mostly clear cut. There are quite a few from Germany, but more from Scotland and Ireland, the Nordic countries, and Eastern Europe. Most are mutts, but that has never mattered.
What ethnicity are you?
She wonders what it was like for her great-grandparents when they came to this country, and how they felt about it.
Mostly German.
She wonders about her extended family, people she will never know whom were no doubt Nazis.
Seriously? You're a Nazi!
She wonders about her extended family whom ended up in the concentration camps.
In class, a chart is put on the overhead that shows immigration to America from 1820 to 2010. The teacher points to the five areas where the chart is highest. They speak about these times and learn about immigrants from this time.
Unnoticed, a small bump sits on the chart between the end of the Great Depression and World War II. It would figure that the time her family arrived would be deemed "unimportant" in immigration history. At least it's there, she reasons. Jobe didn't even make it onto the chart.
Her parents spent a lot of time in Europe, and Germany was one of the countries they went to. They had their honeymoon in Germany (it wasn't their actual honeymoon, but they say it might as well have been), and she loves to hear their stories. She wonders if she will ever manage to visit there. She wonders if she can go to Hanover and track her ancestry even farther, maybe even meet family that was left behind. She wonders how her family would react to her.
She wonders if Ludwig would welcome her with open arms.
She Wonders (1/2)
In class, they learn that only 15% of Americans can trace their ancestry to before the Revolutionary War. For some reason, she feels proud that she is one of them.
They talk about the Blue Bloods, and she jokes to her friends that she must be one too, but also she wonders.
When it comes to her family history, she finds herself wondering a lot.
The antics of the English have always made her laugh. They shouldn't, really, because most of those things aren't exactly laugh-worthy.
But the British Empire holds its appeal, and she loves to smirk and say that the sun will never set on it.
The Blue Bloods claimed that they had superiority because their ancestors were here first (besides the Natives, of course, but who ever remembers them?), and she laughs at the thought. Her ancestor was here first, alright.
It would figure that, of her two most remembered ancestral lines, one came here by choice while the other came by force.
She wonders, curious, if his family ever got to eat that piece of bread.
She wonders where he stole it from.
She wonders if he ever regretted it.
She doesn't regret it, of course, but she enjoys existing, so that only makes sense.
She wonders how many of them, how many Americans, owe the British their thanks.
She wonders who she would thank specifically.
And it's then that she likes to imagine a group of stuffy Englishmen- maybe one a grocer, another perhaps some sort of official- and she likes to imagine thanking them, and then walking away without another word. She wonders if they would be confused, what they'd think.
She wonders if Jobe would smile.
She wonders if Arthur would just turn away.
She wonders how young Germans feel about being called Nazis. Of course, it's a rhetorical question, since the answer is obvious. No one must really like being insulted for what their ancestors did, but she still wonders. She wonders how it hurts when the accusation is given. She wonders how many times they've heard it from Americans. She wonders if they assume most Americans still think that they're all Nazis.
She wonders, if they do assume this, whether or not they are right.
In her small home in America's palm, ethnicity is mostly clear cut. There are quite a few from Germany, but more from Scotland and Ireland, the Nordic countries, and Eastern Europe. Most are mutts, but that has never mattered.
What ethnicity are you?
She wonders what it was like for her great-grandparents when they came to this country, and how they felt about it.
Mostly German.
She wonders about her extended family, people she will never know whom were no doubt Nazis.
Seriously? You're a Nazi!
She wonders about her extended family whom ended up in the concentration camps.
In class, a chart is put on the overhead that shows immigration to America from 1820 to 2010. The teacher points to the five areas where the chart is highest. They speak about these times and learn about immigrants from this time.
Unnoticed, a small bump sits on the chart between the end of the Great Depression and World War II.
It would figure that the time her family arrived would be deemed "unimportant" in immigration history. At least it's there, she reasons. Jobe didn't even make it onto the chart.
Her parents spent a lot of time in Europe, and Germany was one of the countries they went to. They had their honeymoon in Germany (it wasn't their actual honeymoon, but they say it might as well have been), and she loves to hear their stories. She wonders if she will ever manage to visit there. She wonders if she can go to Hanover and track her ancestry even farther, maybe even meet family that was left behind.
She wonders how her family would react to her.
She wonders if Ludwig would welcome her with open arms.