My whole life, I’ve wanted an ethnic identity that goes along with being American. My friends are Italian-American, Mexican-American, African-American, Irish-American. But no glorious hyphen for me. I’m just American.   

Don’t get me wrong. Being American is great. But what’s more American than having something great and wanting even more? 

I was always jealous that my friends had an additional culture and all that goes with it. Delicious food, traditional music, unique and colorful clothes. Ancient traditions that are still alive today. Generational connections that span years and lifetimes. Challenging and dangerous liquors like Grappa, Rakija, Ouzo and Tequila. 

Though this always bothered me, I gave up hoping it would change. That is until I took a DNA test. When it came back, I scanned through all the different places my mongrel DNA is from. Nothing I could claim as my own. But then, there it was: I am 3% Neandertal! 

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