Thankful that I don't belong

I grew up in a homogeneous town in Wisconsin. Most of the people surrounding me looked like me, talked like me, were able bodied like me, ate the foods I did, and believed in the same God I did. After high school graduation, I moved to a bigger city and although my friend and acquaintance circle was starting to gather some that didn't look as much like me or believe in the same God as me or eat the same food as me, for the most part I was still living a pretty homogeneous life. I met and fell in love with a man that didn't look like me.

Through the years of living in a diverse home we've had some ups and downs; we've even had some unpleasant conversations. It made me think about those deep rooted opinions and beliefs that I carried from childhood into adulthood. Communication hasn't always easy been as easy as it may have been in a homogeneous house. Yet, despite the differences in our home and the differences of how the world treated me and how it treated the rest of my family (husband and now four children) I still had a sense of where I belonged.

I started diversity discussions to help both myself and the community around me understand our changing world. I've had conversations with friends and family about diversity - some of which did not turn out so hot. I began writing diversity articles for the local alternative newspaper. Although I was pointing out all the differences around me, I still had a sense of where I belonged.

After raising our children, my husband and I made the decision to move to California to spend more time with his daughter and grand-children. We settled in Santa Maria, CA. Santa Maria is a city of just under 150,000 people on the Central Coast of California. The demographics pulled from the U.S. Census show a city much different than any I've lived in before. The first column shows the percentage of the population in Santa Maria, CA that fit into the assigned racial group and the second column shows that same racial group as represented throughout California as a whole.

	Black or African American alone, percent, 2010 (a)	1.7%	6.2%
	American Indian and Alaska Native alone, percent, 2010 (a)	1.8%	1.0%
	Asian alone, percent, 2010 (a)	5.1%	13.0%
	Native Hawaiian and Other Pacific Islander alone, percent, 2010 (a)	0.2%	0.4%
	Two or More Races, percent, 2010	5.1%	4.9%
	Hispanic or Latino, percent, 2010 (b)	70.4%	37.6%
	White alone, not Hispanic or Latino, percent, 2010	21.7%	40.1%

I live in a city where 70.4% of the people are not from my culture; where it is obvious that most are not comfortable speaking my language. Where the food I am most used to eating isn't a commonplace --- no Culver's, Chicago Polish Sausage, bratwurst, no Friday night fish frys, or no cheese straight from the factory. 

For the first time in my life, I realize that I don't really belong; I realize that I need to actually work at belonging. I may need to learn another language and I may need to learn to eat some other foods in order to belong. The point is that I won't belong unless I do something different. Although I have been involved in diversity activities of all sorts for quite some time, I realized it didn't adequately prepare me for living in a city where a vast majority of people are different from me.

I'm grateful that I've had the ability to talk about diversity. Now, I'm very grateful that I have the opportunity to see from the inside out what it is like to live in an area where I am the minority. I'm grateful that I have met some people who have helped me navigate this different terrain; are willing to explain what a food is or where to find the best bargains or how to basically communicate to others. Above all, I'm grateful that for this season of my life I am living as the minority. It is teaching me humility, it is giving me a different perspective of life, it is allowing me to see how my actions and those from my community may negatively affect others without us even knowing.

Slowly I am learning how to belong.