Part of me is African-American but it’s not the only part. My mom was like, it was one thing when you were first coming up and there was novelty or whatever, but she feels, “You’ve done enough to warrant just being called an American.” I tell people over and over, “I grew up in Connecticut,” but it always ends up as “Harlem to Harvard, Harlem to Harvard.”I love Harlem, I love the Harlem Junior Tennis Program, but I grew up here and I’m not going to deny it to make a better story. To me, the story should be about the No. 4 guy in the world, and not where I’m from. Or not from.Source: SI.com
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Interesting comment.
Foreigners see us all as American, it is only Americans who focus on our differences and are hung up on African American vs. Irish American vs. Italian American etc.
An Irish musician once commented when visiting New York, and asking people their background was told, I’m Italian, I’m Jewish, I’m Irish, but was never told I’m American.
I believe we have far more in common than our differences.