Growing up as an ethnic minority in America I remember the phrase “American melting pot.” It sounded like a beautiful concept and description of the experiment that is America. But underneath that surface impression I felt an unsettling stillness, a disquieting bump. As nice as it sounded it somehow didn’t feel right; there was something wrong with that picture of who we are.

Over the years that unsettling feeling persisted and then some 30 years ago I came to understand why. America as a melting pot doesn’t accurately describe what it means to become an American, or adequately portray how that happens. Melting pot supposes there was a primary body of original immigrants who melded into a nondescript undifferentiated whole and that subsequent “elements” were added and each melted away into the original body. But this suggests they lost any sense of their original identities and became chemically a part of the amalgam they merged with – This was what bothered me all those years.

I didn’t like the idea I was just like everyone else with no individual characteristics or personality of my own. Peer pressure as a powerful dynamic process seeks to make us that alike for acceptance reasons but that’s not a good thing.

What I came to realize about the process of becoming an American is that it’s not that you become just like everyone else indistinguishable and the same, you become more fully yourself, who you are ethnically, racially, culturally, and the binding element that makes us Americans is a commitment to a collective idea – But we come to this as rich and full individuals.

Rather than a melting pot where there is no individuality, no personality, no distinction, think of it as your grandmother’s family stew recipe handed down. It would be a collection of a variety of food stuffs mixed together to become a grand meal, no one part being more important or less so than any other part. The end result is a tasty dish because of the individual parts, each distinguishable for it’s contribution to the whole, each valued and appreciated for adding its texture and flavor to what it means to become an American. It would be a tragic loss if people didn’t retain the color and flavor of their ethnic and cultural heritage in the process of assimilation.

So – instead of the American Melting Pot, how about the American Stew Pot? Think of me as the onions.

I know, it takes getting used to…