Genetics, the science of heredity, is interesting. Where we came from and our links to the past are a part of whom we are. For instance, here's a story to consider.

There once was a man, let's call him Sam, whose grandfather was an enrolled member of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma.

The grandfather also had Cherokee blood in his veins. His people were removed from Georgia in 1838, marched down the Trail of Tears through Alabama, Mississippi and Arkansas to Oklahoma. More than 4,000 Cherokees died.

Sam never knew his grandfather. He had passed away before Sam was born; his weak lungs couldn't take working in the potash mines, making Sam wonder if an occasional lung infection was genetically linked to his grandfather.

Sam's mother migrated to California during the Dust Bowl as an olive-skinned, jet-black-haired, brown-eyed, beautiful teenage girl. Later, as a woman, she met a lighter-skinned, blue-eyed, blond-haired Marine from Florida, who would become Sam's father. The man was a mix of Irish and whatever, with a father named Boobie O'Toodle, who passed away before Sam's dad was born.

Sam wasn't raised Indigenous or Irish as both of those bloodlines were kept from him for reasons, that at the time, his parents thought best. They were, like most people, afraid of stereotypes. They were wrong in keeping certain things from him, but that didn't change Sam's love for them.

Sam grew up in multicultural Los Angeles as a white boy and man. Today, that is part of who he is. But he was also a Chris Columbus Indian and the son of an Irishman who was born to an unwed mother and father and bounced around from house to house, none of which were a home.

If all of these genetical and life connections had been public knowledge, Sam would have been a shamed minority among minorities. Or at least his parents believed society would hold that true.

Sam's mother was a soft-spoken, exotic-looking woman with high cheek bones and a 5-foot-11-inch frame.

His father was tough and handsome, with thick wavy hair and a deep sense of caring for people, possibly because few cared for him when he was young.

Sam was a product of the fact that outward appearance is often misleading and not relevant.

On the inside, Sam shared many genetics and traits of his parents, one being his father's attitude. Sam also exhibited the learned influences of a dominant society.

Over the years, with gained knowledge and wisdom, Sam welcomed and embraced his First Peoples heritage. But it was a bit tougher for him to get his mind around the Irish connection. He didn't know exactly why, it's just the way it was. Life is full of surprises, as well as some stubborn stereotypes.

As an example, Sam never saw any reason for green beer on St. Patrick's Day, leprechauns and fairies, pots of gold, shamrocks and funny-shaped plastic hats.

He did, however, love the beauty of rainbows and the taste of potatoes, and he was strongly drawn to Indigenous music, dance, food and culture - specifically storytelling. He found happiness, education and understanding when listening to an elder and/or storyteller.

There is much Sam did not know and did not experience, partly because he never lived on a reservation; most of his life was spent in non-Native environments.

Even though he sometimes felt coldness, or lack of acceptance, from other Indians, Sam, nonetheless, felt connected. While the link wasn't based on the early learning of tradition, it was something he felt that was different than his connection to immigrant America.

Genetics and heritage were often confusing for Sam.

But one recent day, he felt even deeper feelings at the Oct. 5 First Nations Day at the North Dakota Heritage Center.

You see, Sam, I am.

My Indigenous-Irish-Other makeup offers many considerations, three that immediately come to mind.

First, it is healthy to know who we are, where we came from and how we fit in with our surroundings.

Second, none of us control how we got here, but can in many cases determine what we do while we are here.

And third, it isn't always easy to speak or write freely. People will talk and stereotypes - true or false - will be assigned.

Stereotypes, however, are far less important than this piece of advice I once received:

"Make conscious decisions as to who you will be and how you will react. Be responsible for your own actions."

(You can reach Editor John Irby at 250-8266 or john.irby@;bismarcktribune.com and go to http: //www.bismarcktribune.com/blog /?wthepaper&e_id2671/ to read his blog.)