Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself? [yesmagazine.org]

One memory comes to me like a photo. It’s a snapshot of my mom’s kitchen, the lights dimmed with just the glow of the stove in the background. A line of women, covered in flour, gather together: my grandmas, great-aunts, family from all backgrounds. They read a recipe card from my paternal grandma, mix and roll dough, then pass it down the line to the pierogi molds. My aunt alternates between sauerkraut, potato and cheese, and prune fillings. My maternal grandma seals the dough pockets on a tray. She’s not Eastern European, but her grandkids are—and that’s how we’ve grown up.