Cultural Mosaic

When sitting down to compose my cultural mosaic, I imagined how easy it would be if I had stayed in one area of the country, or even just in my hometown.  Then again, I realized it still wouldn’t have been easy because as Chao & Moon(2005) noted “viewing an individual’s culture as a cultural mosaic allows for simultaneous observation of global individual culture and localized cultural influences.”  To me, that means no matter how local you remain, influences that extend beyond your   However, when you were raised in a hometown like Detroit, yet spent most of your adult life in the eastern and southern regions of the country, the tasks becomes daunting quickly.   

Here are the labels (or primary tiles) that I apply to myself daily: African-American, female, millennial, daughter, friend, native Detroiter, former journalist, MLIS graduate student,  Howard University alumna and Zeta Phi Beta Sorority member.  The most dominant of these are that I am a millennial, African American and female.  As I have grown and moved from state to state, these are the three tiles that will never escape me.  Having worked in small, rural towns, I have often been reminded and questioned about my generation’s reluctance to commit (or as one person in Hattiesburg, MS told me when I turned 23-“You’re almost over the hill. You better find you one.) as well as the tendency to explore professional options near and far.  From the day I was born, I was an African-American being raised in a predominantly African-American community being constantly reminded of the history and the struggle of my ancestors.  However, attending Howard University and being able to report the election night results when Barack Obama was elected president also provided me insight into the achievements of African Americans.  As for being a woman, I almost feel like I cannot say that I am a woman without saying that I am an African-American woman because there is so much history behind it and such a stigma placed on it.  Every day that I watch the news or read magazines such as Ebony and Essence, I am reminded of a unique strength often applied to being an African-American woman whether it’s the story of the percentage of women like me leading households or how many more woman who look like me are attaining degrees as opposed to our male counterparts.  I cannot escape my age, race or gender and, in many ways, I am a product of it.  

While my dominant tiles may be very focused on the demographic territory, I must say that my geographic category also plays a significantly into the way that I view things as well.  From the day I was born until the I left for college at 18, I was an urbanite.  I grew up on the east side of Detroit and grew up with parents who remained very informed on the news and happenings of Detroit. I grew up with strong ideas about unions, education and school boards.  (That happens when teachers go on strike every time you are about to enter your final year at a school.)  However, I moved to Washington, D.C. for college and though portions of it was similar to Detroit, there were many aspects of living there that were quite different whether it was politics or economics.  However, being a native Detroiter, I did not understand closing down over two inches of snow.  Then there was my venture to Hattiesburg, MS.  Though it was called a city, it was a very small town where everybody knew everybody.  Unlike Detroit and D.C., the racial composition of the town was more split.  For the first time in my life, I can honestly say I made friends of different races and also was able to report that not all of Mississippi is dirt roads and general stores.  It was also my first time living somewhere that was experiencing business growth- a complete reversal from my time in Detroit.  And unlike the more urban cities, I finally lived in a place where homicides were not to be expected.  Finally, before I moved back to Detroit, I lived in Warner Robins, GA- a suburb of Macon.  For the first time, I was able to call myself a suburbanite.  Like Hattiesburg, it was a small town that was growing with businesses and new residential developments.  The residents of Warner Robins focused primarily on military, family and recreation and they were very conservative.  In summary, it was a great place to raise a family, but not a great place for a young single woman.  It was then that I decided that I was and forever will be an urbanite.  Then I moved back home.  As a native Detroiter, I have a great love for my hometown and its cultural offerings and the resilience of a lot of the people, but I have also had the opportunity to experience enough different places to have an open mind and know Detroit could improve in many ways.

Since I moved away from home when I was 18 to attend college and have a really small family, my associative tiles may seem quite formal.  But while they may represent institutions and organizations, within them, I have formed some of my greatest friendships and made productive connections.  These networks have followed me as I have worked in Mississippi and Georgia and placed a somewhat-familiar face in not-so-familiar territory.  One thing I know when I encounter a Howard University alum is that they value education the same way that I do. As for my sorority, I joined and maintain that association because I it allows me to regularly fellowship with women who not only value education, but also value community service and bonding with others of a similar mindset.  These associations are important to me as I am the first person in my family to attend a four-year institution and receive a degree.

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.