Just Your Garden Variety White Guy

That my family has a certain amount of Native American ancestry has long been a legend. It goes back at least as far as my great-grandparents, who told it to my grandparents. And perhaps further back for all I know.

But it turns out that I’m your garden variety white guy.

Where do family legends like this come from? Really, it’s not that boring being white.  I am from Maine, after all. I can entertain people by talking in a funny accent (even if my real accent is neutral white American).

In my defense, I’ve always checked white on forms. I fit the stereotype. I like old country music like Johnny Cash (though not new country) and classic rock, I’m boring, I dance like I have a pole stuck up my ass, and I hope to visit Ireland some day.

Recently, my sister and I did an experiment. We had our DNA tested with different companies. The results were consistent: 100% European ancestry. We are more than half Anglo-Irish, though the amount of French is less than we thought it would be (despite having a French last name).

Something unexpected did turn up, however. There’s a notable percentage of Iberian ancestry (Spain). And my Y chromosome is predominantly found among people of Middle Eastern descent. Among people of European descent this Y chromosome is found mainly (but not exclusively) among Jews.

This doesn’t mean I’m Jewish, though it’s possible. Spain expelled its Jews around the time Columbus sailed for America, so the Iberian combined with not as much French as I expected could indicate that a male ancestor left Israel during the diaspora back in Greco-Roman times, then ended up in France after being kicked out of Spain.

I’ll never know. The genealogical records only go back to my ancestors’ arrival in the New World.

Doesn’t matter. I still can’t dance.

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