Don't Call Me Anglo.

Recently while teaching Judith Ortiz Cofer's essay Don't Call Me a Hot Tamale, I found myself offended by her choice of the word Anglo. I will never be Anglo, nor feel Anglo, nor speak Anglo. In Califas many people, probably people of color especially, do not realize the long dark history between the British and the Irish, including Celtic Americans. Just as not all white people look white, not all whites are Anglos. In fact the term Anglo can be very offensive to some whites.

I am the descendant of European savages but not Anglo ones. In fact there is an old Celtic saying, Beware of the smile of the Anglo. When an Anglo smiles at a Celt, something is amiss.

Anglo rhetoric is totally at odds with Celtic rhetoric. Anglo speech is sophisticated but direct. A sot is a sot. Celtic rhetoric on the other hand is playful, poetic, and whimsical. One says what he does not mean. Words have to instrinsic value; words have more than one meaning. The language of business English is not the Celt's version of English. While I admire British English, its excellent use of vocabulary and "stiff upper lip" style, I will never be Anglo.

To a Catholic, Anglo is too closely associated with Anglican, the Church of England.

At Reed College I was sometimes called WASC, but never a WASP.

When I lived on the border, a Mexican lawyer friend called me "Cabezon de papa." Big potato head. I don't mind the potato head analogy. I don't even mind being called gringo or guero. On the border cacausian sounds like "caca," and even gabacho is fine. Just don't call me Anglo.