The following is an abridged and edited version of a final exam detailing my own culture and comparing it to a friend's for a recent education course, The Diverse and Exceptional Learner.

According to Kim Ann Zimmerman, a contributor to the LiveScience website, culture can be explained as the characteristics and knowledge of a particular group of people, defined by everything from language, religion, cuisine, social habits, music and the arts. While there are many definitions for this word, I most appreciate this one for its specific distinguishable factors. Growing up in Rockville-Vernon, and then Ellington, Connecticut, while being raised by a Minnesotan-Lutheran mother and a Canadian-Lutheran father, has framed my development with a variety of specific and instinctual outlooks on the world around me. The Roets family of Connecticut speaks English, like most of the rest of New England. Albeit our slightly Midwesternized and Canadian slang, little stands out about us on the East coast. Unlike many of my peers growing up, my family tree is not rooted in small town Connecticut farms, or large scale Bostonian factories dating back to the 18^th century. Because of this, much if not all of my extended family is at least an 8 hour, and some a 24 hour drive away. We travel far and often; NPR and Prairie Home Companion are familiar sounds in my car, as well as a variety of show tunes, Bill Cosby stand-up (back in the days of a certain blissful ignorance), and audio books or podcasts on repeat.

Everywhere we go, whether camp in New Hampshire, Christmas in Minnesota, or church on Sunday, we sing. We sing loud and with confidence, and often in five part harmony. All kinds of music are present in my family, whether spiritual, folk, rock, or classical. Musical theater (and theater in general) is also prevalent in my household and those we surround ourselves with, and it is not uncommon for us to eat dinner at 8:30 p.m. on any given evening because someone has only just gotten home from rehearsal, tennis, dance, gymnastics, or diving practice. Despite our busy and musically driven lives, we always at the very least try to all eat dinner as a family. Dinners out are rare but special; truly in retrospect though, each meal in my house is of restaurant quality. Though my siblings and I were purported by our parents to “eat like baby birds” as children, each meal is full of eclectic and adventurous tastes that has a history of several hours of preparation. My father was (and still is) the premier chef of the house, though my mother often makes her classic “pizza chicken” (otherwise known as parmesan chicken), as a fair contender whenever Dad was out too late for rehearsal or tennis practice. Familiar meals include breakfast frittatas, Danish aebleskivers, Swedish pancakes, Norwegian lefse, jambalaya, paella, and a motley of soups and stews of which there are too many to name. Lefse was and still is made every Thanksgiving, and packaged to send to family and friends around the country (as are my father’s famously smoked and spiced almonds).

Literature is hugely important in our family’s day to day life, and to this day we have one room in our house identified as “The Library”; this room has three ceiling to floor walls of books, and they are by no means all of the books in our house. Reading is encouraged over television any and every day, though favorite movies are quoted on a daily basis. Stories of all kinds are thrown around and appreciated more than almost anything else, and shared media experiences are welcome at all times. Favorite books are passed from each member of the family, usually in age-order going down.

Likewise, writing, both creatively and academically, is also highly valued in my familial culture. Dad gave us all feedback on our writing assignments growing up, and poetic language was praised. The artistic side of our life is much more important than the rational or mathematical, and as such it comes as no surprise that debates are frequent, never ending, and more often than not, irrational. The “essential questions” of life are the primary ones of my house, but it is always the little annoyances that set off our tempers. But because love and forgiveness is so important to our religion and subsequent moral compasses, every evening ends in affirmations of love and affection (no matter how brutal the dispute earlier in the night).

As just noted, religion in many ways drives the culture of my household. While we do not quote the Bible or mention God or Jesus on any regular basis, my upbringing in a small ELCA Lutheran congregation very much shaped who I am today. Coming from the primarily Catholic New England area, my church was a standout cultural microcosm of its own. Many Midwestern stereotypes fit the mold of my church; potlucks, Lenten soup and sandwich suppers on Wednesdays, Fellowship (otherwise known as “Coffee”) Hour, and countless nostalgic hymns from the Cranberry hymnal peppered my childhood and adolescence. My church is “liberal” by nearly all definitions of the word, and preaches total acceptance and welcome of all people; this is fine and easy to say, and less so to demonstrate, as the majority of our congregants are white, middle class, cis-heterosexual families. This is not to degrade my church, but to acknowledge that in most regards we are rather homogeneous. We do however bring sandwiches to the homeless shelter down the road every Sunday, and often volunteer our time in parts of Connecticut or New England whose demographics are unlike our own. This emphasis on serving everyone is not only present in my home congregation, but at my ELCA summer camp in Freedom, New Hampshire where church is not a steeple, church is the people (and the outdoors). All of this is not unlike many of my Luther College peers’ upbringings, but it is my unique micro-cultures that form me into the distinctly individual person I am.

While each person’s perspective of an upbringing is unique to them, my description was specific to my household. As such, I imagined that it would be those in my household who could tell me whether or not my description was an accurate one, or at least one with which they could relate. For perspective, while my household culture is also my mother’s household culture, mine is of a childhood and hers of an adulthood. In this way then, my perception of conflict and subsequent resolution growing up may be different from my mother’s. Regardless of this factor, both my mother and my sister said that my description resonated strongly with them.

After I shared my cultural description with members of my family, I sought out the description of a friend’s. Luigi spent the first nine years of his life growing up in the Philippines, and has since lived in the United States (namely Wisconsin). In accordance with the definition of culture I chose to embrace, Luigi described his culture as being strongly familial based. At home his family speaks primarily Filipino, and music (especially dance music) is a big part of his daily life. Luigi identified his family as Roman Catholic, and recalled praying with his grandmother and the Rosary almost every day. Rice was had with nearly every meal, and soups were common. Luigi also explained the hand gesture traditionally done when greeting elders in the family or community, and that his personal culture, developed by his Filipino childhood, instilled in him a strong respect for elders as the wisest and most highly regarded people of the community. Time is a different concept for him than the one I was raised in, and the well-known “island time” phenomenon was one Luigi grew up with; my favorite quote of the conversation was him mentioning street lights turning on as his notice to come inside for dinner.

In our post conversation-briefing, Luigi and I found that our fundamental feelings of a tight knit family and home culture resonated deeply with each other, despite specific smaller differences. The key points we discussed were that of how we show respect for those older than ourselves, how we interact with our religions, and the facets of life our families place primary value on (both were food and music). We discussed how growing up in a Roman Catholic house was different than a Lutheran one. This specific point had me reflecting on my own stereotypes about Catholicism as a “strict” religion while I identify my own as very “relaxed”.

I believe the national conversation about culture has become too generalized a topic; I also believe that as an American, I was raised in a community that talked far too often about the “melting pot” of America. A stronger metaphor I heard recently equated our mixed and diverse society with a salad bowl. Each flavor is distinctly its own, and brings strengths unlike any other to the meal. The melting pot imagery had good intentions, but perpetuates a constant state of minimization, where Americans have been inundated time and time again with the idea of the American Dream (as though it must be the same for every one). We forget however, that not only do we contribute to the greater “salad bowl” of our communities and country, but are ourselves salad bowls. We are not part of “one” identifiable culture; we are part of several. Not only this, but each culture we are involved with is distinctly different for each of us. While there may be similarities, and we may find comfort in these familiar patterns of behavior, the differences are what make the salad bowl tasty. How boring would just lettuce be?

To quote the great anthropologist Wade Davis, “Other cultures are not failed attempts at being you; they are unique manifestations of the human spirit.” To echo this sentiment, it is simply mind blowing to me the infinite number of possible human experiences, and trulyno one is “better” than another. The timeliness of this lesson has never been more crucial, and it affects every single one of us. If you're going to argue that America was founded on Christ, then turn around and support a deeply prejudiced ban on immigrants from predominantly Muslim countries, I implore you to reconsider or admit that your Christ is not one who respects the "entire law"; For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one commandment: "Love your neighbor as yourself." (Galatians 5:14). A truly Christian nation would never turn its back on their neighbors for the sake of a false sense of national security. Ergo, we are not a Christian nation, since much of our population (and government) have done just this (and we were never one to start). But if I know one thing, it's that the Golden Rule can be found at the foundation of almost every recognized religion and related culture; this universal law ties all of our souls together, ideally without compromising our individuality.

Tl;dr: I believe the answer to our divided nation is this: respect the lettuce (base of life) that is the Golden Rule. Be selfless to be selfish: love on others in legislation and education, and reap the meaningful benefits of those compassionate actions. Don't minimize or try to erase our differences: they are what makes America, like all other nations, great.

If you want your personal culture to be understood or respected, you must first demonstrate the same effort to everyoneyou meet. No exceptions. Now go out and share your story.