Growing Up in North Dakota

It was in Hamilton too that I first met a person from Mexico. As you know, North Dakota was settled mostly by Scandinavians and Germans. In fact, I always simply assumed that all children were born with blonde hair and blue eyes. (Except for the Indians, of course, who lived on the reservations.) Anyway, the Greyhound bus had dropped off at the gas station just outside town a Mexican man who was scheduled to work on a local farm. Our family had been at the station filling our car with gas, and my dad offered to take him to the farm. I remember being fascinated by his coloring and by his Spanish

language. I’d also met a person from Asia during the time we lived here; my dad had taken my brothers and me to Winnipeg to pick my mom up from her surgery (which I’ll write about later). We’d gone to a restaurant to eat (my first memory of eating in a restaurant too) and the host was probably a man of Chinese descent. I remember saying to him in what I thought was very simple English, “I from America. Where you from?” I’m still embarrassed by that. I know here in California, we automatically assume diverse populations – not so in many other states.