How to make your own DNA

Have you seen the ad on TV about the man who thinks he is German, wears lederhosen and does German folk dances? Then he gets his DNA tested and finds out he’s not German, but Scottish. So he starts wearing a kilt and hanging out with Scottish clans.

Getting your DNA tested is the rage now. Connect with your ancestors. Find out who you really are.

This is not a bad thing, especially for those whose link with the past has been broken or torn by racism or war. But for me, and I suspect many Americans, the DNA game is of little use in understanding our identity.

OK, I confess. I had my DNA analyzed. I spit into the little tube and sent it off in the mail, waited several weeks, then anxiously read the results on my computer. Was I surprised? A little. I always knew my ancestors came from many places around the world. One grandparent was born in Russia, another in Australia, the other two in the United States, a mix of Anglo-Irish, French-German-Dutch-Russian. Heinz 57.

But what does this mean? For me, not a lot. My DNA has nothing to do with the people I hang out with, the novels I read, or how I pick my friends. And it came to me that this is the singular gift of being an American. There is no ethnic, racial or national standard for who we are. Our diversity is our heritage.

For example, my DNA tells me I am not Jewish or of African heritage. Yet my close friends and family include both, and I’m as comfortable at a Passover Seder or a black gospel church service as I am at a July 4 cookout. I love Shakespeare, Tolstoy and classical music. But I’m crazy about jazz and the stories of Isaac Singer.

Likewise, I enjoy spending time with friends and neighbors from China, Nepal, Portugal and Guatemala.

This doesn’t mean I don’t also cherish my visits with my Russian-German family, or enjoy having a beer with a colleague from Liverpool, England.

Long before DNA strands were identified, the great democratic bard, Walt Whitman, understood our connection with others. “I celebrate myself, and sing myself,” he wrote, “And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.”

Happy to be one of a living crowd, Whitman chanted the music of Americans of all races and national origins. In doing so, he created a new culture, both personal and universal.

So go ahead and get your DNA tested. You’ll probably find it interesting. But know you can make your own DNA—so to speak—as you embrace the wonderful, creative diversity around you. Yes, even in Stoneham. Look around.

Ben Jacques is the author of In Graves Unmarked: Slavery and Abolition in Stoneham, Mass., available at The Book Oasis, 311 Main Street.