Questions we ask reveal where our interests lie. What we don’t ask about, we probably don’t think about; and if the subject is something we don’t think about, we likely don’t regard it as important.
This statement of the self-evident is partly, I think, what underlies the objection of so many Americans at being asked, by the U.S. Census Bureau, to declare their race.
It’s not just repugnant for the millions who believe that American-ness trumps any of the other categories into which we might fit. It does not only offend those who genuinely believe with Martin Luther King that Americans ought to be judged not by the color of our skin but by the content of our character.
This race question — the literal race question, as in “What is Person 1’s Race? Mark X one or more boxes” — also dispirits because of the incuriosity it reveals.
When it comes to the census, only some strands of the American story are apparently worth pulling out for a closer look.
This year the census has just 10 questions, ending with where do you come from, and what is your race?
If you are “white,” that’s it. You might be from Zimbabwe or Iran or Ireland, but that’s of no interest. Your white skin makes it so, so please skip Question 8 because the bureau does not care where you or your forebears come from.
If you are “black, African Am., or Negro,” you’re done too. You might come from Haiti or Malawi or have ancestors from Ghana, but it’s not germane.
But if you are a Pacific Islander? Please go into detail! Are you Native Hawaiian? Guamanian or Chamorro? Samoan? Or “other” such as Fijian or Tongan?
And goodness, but the census is fascinated with persons of “Hispanic, Latino, or Spanish Origin.” Hispanics have a question all to themselves: Are you Mexican, Mexican Am., Chicano? Puerto Rican? Cuban? Or a write-in: Are you Argentinean, Colombian, Dominican, Nicaraguan, Salvadoran or a Spaniard?
This obsession with the geographic origins of some Americans and the utter indifference to the geographic origins of other Americans flies in the face of the constant assurance of census officials that by filling out our forms we are doing a wonderful service for geneologists. Really?
Nothing in the census form will show, for instance, that of the seven people in our household, one is a foreigner, one is the daughter of an African, or that five members of the family were born overseas. We are “white.” Boring. Next!
The Census Bureau will help fill out your form in a dizzying array of languages. You can get on-line guidance in Magyar, yet if you’re actually Hungarian your only option is to be “white.” Unless, of course, you are a dark-skinned Hungarian, in which case I suppose the only option is “black.”
(And yes, “Hungarian” is not a race. Neither is Pakistani, which is one of the suggested options for people who, in census lingo, are Other Asian.)
This racial slicing and dicing is not just awful, it’s hurtful, and it undermines the American project.
When Barack Obama gave his big breakout speech at the 2004 Democratic Convention, he got a huge response when he said: “There is not a black America and a white America and a Latino America and an Asian America — there’s the United states of America!”
Sadly, according to the census, those are the only kinds of America.
Examiner Columnist Meghan Cox Gurdon is a former foreign correspondent and a regular contributor to the books pages of the Wall Street Journal. Her Examiner column appears on Thursday.
