Community Identity, Race, and Class: A Personal Reflection

Growing Up in a Multiethnic Neighborhood

I am a white male in my early twenties who grew up in a small Northeastern town. The street I grew up on was tree-lined, and the houses were spaced equally apart. All were single-family dwellings inhabited by middle-class families like mine. None of the fathers on the block held white-collar jobs except for one doctor, and most of the women on the street were stay-at-home mothers, with the exception of two single mothers who worked outside the home.

About three-fourths of the families in the neighborhood were Caucasian; of those, roughly half were second- or third-generation Italian. The remaining quarter was either Hispanic or African-American, with one Jewish family also living on the block. Like many of the Caucasians on our street, we did not discuss our genealogy. I only knew that we had ancestors who were Scots-Irish and French.

These basic demographic facts — ethnicity, family structure, profession — shaped the texture of everyday life in ways I only began to understand later. The neighborhood was not simply a collection of houses; it was a layered social world in which community identity was constantly being negotiated through subtle distinctions of culture, language, and background.

Language, Religion, and Family Structure

Language played a major role in defining our community. Because of the substantial Italian population, most residents knew a few words of Southern Italian slang. Yet only the Italian families spoke Italian in their homes — their native language replaced English as soon as anyone walked through their door. Language served as a means of distinguishing their culture from anyone else's, which is why the non-Italian Caucasians in our community defined ourselves partly by the fact that we were not Italian. Because none of the non-Italian Caucasian families were as aware or proud of their ethnic identities, we defined ourselves as a community largely by default.

Part of what made the Italians appear as a unique subculture was that many first-generation relatives cohabited with them. Extended families were rare in anything other than an Italian household. My own family consisted of me, my brother, and my parents. Divorce was virtually nonexistent in the Italian community, whereas a sizable number of non-Italian families had split up by the time I left home for college — though my family was not among them.

Religion also played a major role in community identity formation. The Italian community worshipped at an Italian Roman Catholic Church that offered mass in Italian. Attending a service with some of my Italian friends was a culture shock at times, revealing nuances between our communities that would otherwise be invisible to anyone who lumped us together under the general label of "white" or "Caucasian." For the rest of us, Protestantism was the family religion, though the degree to which any particular family observed their faith varied considerably. That degree of religiosity became a major feature of personal and community identity — and it remains so for me today. Now that I have left the community in which I grew up, I find that I view others partly through the lens of their religiosity.

Age, Politics, and Shifting Community Bonds

While growing up, age was a significant factor in both personal and community identity formation. Young people naturally prefer to associate with peers their own age. The same pattern holds now that I have moved away from home; none of my friends are more than three years older or younger than me. Youth community distinguishes itself from both older adults and young children through various symbols and artifacts — from the technology we use to the clothes we wear to the food we eat. Young people find common identity with one another partly by contrasting themselves with older generations: we criticize the music our parents listen to, the food our grandmothers eat, and the limited technology use of some seniors.

Politics was a fascinating feature of community cohesion when I was growing up and remains so today. My parents' beliefs were left of center — they advocated for equal rights, supported marriage equality, and believed in strong social services. However, not all families in our community were liberal; many were in fact highly conservative. The Italian community tended to be conservative only on issues such as abortion but otherwise shared broadly similar political beliefs with my family. On the other hand, some of the more devout Protestants in our community seemed so absorbed in their beliefs that they effectively segregated themselves from those who did not share the same ideals.

As young people, my friends and I cared little about politics and associated with one another regardless of whether our parents were liberal or conservative. Now that I am in college and forming new communities with like-minded individuals, politics plays a far more important role in my life and in how I identify with those around me.

Conclusion: Community, Privilege, and the Future

I am happy with my status within my community. As a member of a dominant social group, I am aware of the types of cultural capital I have access to simply because of the circumstances of my birth. Compared with other members of my community, I consider myself neither superior nor inferior. Bringing about a meaningful change in my status would involve a wholesale shift in values. I might need to push harder toward a professional career that would require graduate school. Attending graduate school would seriously alter my social status and possibly change which community I identify with most strongly.

The profession I aspire to is more likely to be one that solidifies my current status, as I value the friends and family members I associate with. Members of my community do not all share the same ethnic characteristics or display identical symbols such as clothing. However, we bond on matters of lifestyle — what we prefer to do with our spare time and money. That shared orientation toward life, more than any single marker of identity, is what holds us together as a community.