Mini Autobiography

On November 18, 2008 I had to write a so-called Mini Autobiography for my American Studies class called Topics in American Diversity: Ethnic Experience in Multicultural Context (I am telling you, these elitist Humanities professors and their class descriptions are like impotent men with their Ferraris - they think: 'the longer, the better'). The idea was to reflect on our own multicultural history so as to deepen our studies about American multiculturalism. Now, I am as much of a fan of 'talking out of your ass'-assignments as the next girl, but not being graded on extra homework is quite another thing. But since I have absolutely no energy to write anything new on this blog as I am at the moment far too busy procrastinating during my Christmas break, I figured I could reproduce it here.



I have been living in Utrecht for the past six years, but originally I am from Almelo. Almelo is a city in the east of the Netherlands in the province of Overijssel and in the region called Twente. Quite a few stereotypes are linked to this particular part of the country, and not all of them are positive. People from Twente, including my own family, speak with a thick accent and are often considered to be somewhat harsh. I can relate to these stereotypes. I lived in Almelo for eighteen years, fourteen years in the same suburban area, and pretty much hated every second of it. To me the city felt too small for my big dreams and I thought the people were prejudiced, irrational and small-minded. I also severely disliked the accent and wanted to get rid of it. I could not wait to leave and after finally receiving my high school diploma after six long years, I left for Utrecht to study Humanities at University College.

Neither of my parents were originally from Almelo. My father was born and raised in Wierden, which is a small town next to Almelo. His father had traveled from the island of Terschelling to the province of Friesland to the small town of Wierden. Eventually the entire family, my grandfather, my grandmother, my father and his seven siblings, moved to Almelo when my father was in his teens. My mother made an even bigger journey. She moved to Almelo from Spain when she was eight years old. She came from a city called Terrazza, one of the suburbs of Barcelona, but her parents originally came from Andalusía, a province in the south of Spain. Together with her parents and little brother my mother arrived in the Netherlands in the 1960s and my grandparents started working as so-called guest workers in the factories in the east and a couple of years later a younger sister was born. Eventually my parents got married and my Spanish-born uncle also married a Dutch wife. My Spanish grandparents, however, missed their homeland and soon after my two cousins, my little brother and I were born, they eventually moved back to Spain, taking my aunt with them, who was then just a teenager, and leaving their two oldest children behind in a ‘foreign’ country. Many Spanish guest workers did the same, and although there are still certain Spanish traces in the east, they are few.

I remember feeling very special as a child for being a half blood, as we used to call it. My brother and I thought it was much more fascinating than the ‘boring’ backgrounds of our Dutch peers. We were given Spanish names from the province of Cataluña, Nuria and Jordi, which made us stand out even more and forced us to spell our names and correctly pronounce them basically every single time, but we got used to it. We were crazy about our Spanish family and visited them often, sometimes more than once a year. I also clearly remember feeling more Spanish than Dutch and really connecting to Spanish culture. Moreover, a lot of Turkish and Marrocan people had moved to the area when I was a teenager, so I was used to being surrounded by people with different backgrounds. Although these ‘foreigners’ generally had a bad reputation, I saw no harm in them.

I first became intersted in the U.S. at University College. Many nationalities were represented at the international campus and I quickly befriended several Dutch and American friends who are still my friends to this day. After spending over eighteen years worth of summer holidays in Spain, I wanted something different, so in the summer of 2003 my Dutch friends and I visited our American friends in California. We stayed for a three-week road trip and since then I have been hooked. In 2004 my friends and I spent a semester abroad at the University of California, myself at UCLA. Although it was a rewarding experience, I did notice a shift in attitude. At the end of six months I wanted to go home and suddenly felt very misplaced in American culture for being so, well, ‘Dutch’. It was an unexpected feeling because I never really felt connected to Dutch culture up until then. According to my old professor Nicole Reith this was due to culture shock, and had I stayed in the U.S. for a year or longer, I would eventually have adapted, but I have doubts about this claim. Since then I have felt more Dutch than Spanish. My accent now only resurfaces when I am back home with the rest of my family and many people think that I am from the U.S. when they first meet me. During my first year at University College I tried to get rid of my accent, and somehow, over time, I did and many find my current speech somewhat odd, even though I definately did not plan on sounding English or American. I find it slightly ironic.

This does not take away a continuing interest in the U.S. After graduating from University College I started studying English at Utrecht University. I finished a minor in American Studies, spent a month in New York last summer and almost enrolled in the American Studies master program, but my wish of some day becoming a teacher stopped me. Therefore, I am all the more grateful to be able to take this class.