I’ve always self-identified as ‘German-American.’ Growing up in Milwaukee I took for granted that everyone enjoyed liverwurst sandwiches on rye bread, hung a pickle ornament on their Christmas tree, and had at least one family member who played the accordion. And didn’t everyone’s grandma lovingly call them Schatze?
Apparently not.
When I moved away from Wisconsin, I realized how cliché my German-American experience had been, and I wondered why the caricature Oktoberfest-type experience was all that had been passed on to Americans with German heritage. Surely there was more to being German in America than knowing 15 different types of sausage or liking oompah music. What did it really mean to be German-American?
That question prompted the research for my university honors thesis. As I studied the history of Germans in America, my appreciation for what my family (and other Germans like them) experienced here in America increased exponentially. I read numerous first-hand accounts from Germans immigrating to the United States, and I imagined what that journey might have been like for my immigrant ancestors who traveled during the same period in likely the same steerage conditions. I learned about the Germans who contributed to the growth and freedom of America and how their genius and ideas shaped this country—even amidst intense times of persecution for being from Germany. And when I visited Milwaukee I walked the streets with new eyes, seeing the greatness of what German immigrants built there and sorrowing because so much of the distinct German-ness had been lost.
For me, the German part of the ‘German-American’ identity became most clear when I visited the villages where some of my German ancestors came from. Strolling the cobblestone streets that their feet had walked, standing in the field where they had farmed, and seeing the structures my ancestors had built moved me in a way that I hadn’t expected. I felt connected to these wonderful Germans in a new way, and I realized how much of who I am was because of who they had been. Because of my German ancestors, I am:
Strong, resilient, and adaptable: How many wars and boundary changes have the Germans been through—and survived?! More than we as Americans can even appreciate or fathom. Change was frequent, and sometimes swift.
Loyal to Family and Community: For my German ancestors, their family and community was the center of their lives. Records were kept at a local (often parish) level. When it came time to migrate, they often did so as extended families and/or communities. And when they settled in America they preferred to live in the German-speaking enclaves and selected American places with topography reminding them most of where they’d lived in Germany.
Proud of Local Heritage: Germany as a country did not exist until 1871; before then it was simply a loosely unified confederation of diverse localities. When my ancestors came to America they did not declare themselves ‘German,’ rather they would have proudly declared “I am from Vynen” or named the local geographic entity. Their identity was tied not to Germany but to their village—to their people.
Grounded: My German ancestors were farmers. Stepping onto the land that they farmed felt natural, and I felt connected to the land and to my family. When I was there, I felt at home.
Unapologetically Authentic: My version of being a German-American may not be the same as someone else’s version. But that is okay. I live my German-ness my own way, taking the parts that work for me and adapting them to my own life, like the Germans who settled in America did.
I still enjoy the cliché traditions of polka music at Oktoberfests, liverwurst sandwiches, and the like, but I now identify with more than the caricature when I proudly declare “I am German-American.”
This article was written and submitted by Adele Maurine Marcum.
