Georgia T. Chao and Henry Moon's article "The Cultural Mosaic: a Metatheory for Understanding the Complexity of Culture" proposes a deeper, layered look at all the parts that make up an individual's cultural background. The world keeps getting smaller. We keep coming up with new ways to communicate with each other: tweet, Skype, Facebook, blog and text. There are probably twenty new ways right now that I'll never understand because my technology bucket has overflowed. Some of us might be working or attending school, via the internet, with people we'll never meet in person. It's only natural to stop and ask, “Who are these people?” These days it is impossible to accurately summarize a person with one word. We are all made up of tiny tiles, which gathered together create the picture of each of us.
I am a cultural mosaic and these are my tiles.
Demographically speaking, these are the things I've inherited from my parents: I'm less than five and half feet tall with dark brown hair, premature grays (from my mother) and respectable eyebrows (from both). Though, my father's are rather unruly these days. I'm twenty-seven years old. Since turning twenty-five I find it incredibly hard to keep track. I think this comes from both of my parents. My dad has to spin his family Rolodex before he can get to my name. My mom has to subtract years from my father's age to know her own. I traced my bad spelling down from my father’s side. Every aunt or uncle who’s married into the family can spell perfectly. My dad and his siblings, my cousins, and my brother and I are all terrible.
My mom is Polish and my dad is German. On my dad’s side, my great-grandma came to America during World War I. I don’t know much about my mom’s family. I guess I’ve never asked. Both my grandparents on that side have long since passed away.
While growing up, we had Advent Calendars and gifts at the foot of the bed on St. Nikolas Day. My mom claims she made us perogies when we were little but I don’t remember. Otherwise, I don’t remember doing anything related to either heritage. Now, I’m starting to think about having children and how distant I feel from any sense of culture that I might be able to give them. Maybe I would feel better if I knew more about these parts of me. I feel very American. This doesn’t make me feel rooted, though. Not the way it should. It just makes me feel blown over like in a bad wind storm. It’s too late to learn much from my grandparents; I only have a grandma left.
I live, work, and play in the first suburb north of Detroit on Woodward. I occupy space in Ferndale and Detroit. I don’t like going much further north on Woodward. I feel out of place. Ferndale’s main street provides that big city/small town atmosphere. This city is big on street fairs, restaurants, outdoor patios, and beer. I’m a part of my city.
These are my group tiles: work, friends, and family. This is the order I attend these groups. I work full time at The Ferndale Public Library. I’m a collection developer, a program planner, and part of the reference staff. I don’t like to refer to myself as a librarian yet; not until I’m finished with school. I’m still friends with people I went to high school with. I’m friends with other librarians. I’m friends with the ladies in my book club. In these groups, I’m easy to talk to. I like to joke around and make people laugh. I like to listen to people’s problems and give advice. I like to show people how to do things I know how to do. I like to think I know people pretty well and that I can recommend books that they’ll enjoy.
My immediate family and I get along really well. I don't understand the rest of my family, on my father's side. During the last election some of my relatives and I got into an email fight. They sent anti-democrat emails and I sent anti-republican emails right back. I don't know if I'd officially call myself a Democrat but I'd definitely call myself a liberal. Some of my family members and I don't see eye to eye.
My tiles shift, depending on my focus. This is where I've come from and the direction I'm heading in. I hope to keep adding tiles to my mosaic.
References
Chao, G. T., & Moon, H. (2005). The cultural mosaic: A metatheory for understanding the complexity of culture. Journal of Applied Psychology, 90(6), 1128–1140.