One of my most memorable Fourth of July celebrations happened many years ago in Dallas, where I was serving a one-year stint as a refugee resettlement caseworker (sort of like Americorp today) and living with 3 other volunteers. None of us had family in the area. We decided to invite our fellow staff members over for a big do; most of them had been refugees themselves and didn't have plans.
We volunteers supplied the BBQ and apple pie. Our colleagues brought favorite dishes from their various countries. The Vietnamese caseworker came with spring rolls, our Ethiopian friends brought anjera, a spongy flat bread, and spicy stew which is eaten by hand, grabbing about a spoonful's worth with the bread. A former client-turned-friend brought kolaches from his native Czech tradition. The job placement expert, a Polish woman who'd come to the U.S. shortly after WWII, brought her version of potato salad. An Iranian rice pilaf, Mexican tamales and Korean kimchi rounded things out nicely.
Our guests jumped right into the spirit of things and I saw that while all of them loved their homelands and would have stayed if they could, they also appreciated most aspects of life in America in spite of any inconveniences. Their attitude was "both, and," not "either/or." In terms of appreciation, they saw no need to choose between the cultures of their old and new homes.
Someone once wrote that the melting pot metaphor isn't quite accurate; the U.S. isn't so much a stew as a salad. All the ingredients are mixed together but the individual flavors and textures are still apparent. I like the salad image. Unlike stew, salads are colorful and crunchy, sort of like neighborhood life in any of our major cities where there's a mixture of cultures.
In community life as with food, adding new ingredients & mixing keeps things fresh.
