I was adopted when I was three days old. I know nothing of my birth parents. I know nothing of my ethnic origin. My skin is not transparent, it contains pigment (color). My friends have different ethnic backgrounds, African, Jamaican, Nepali, Filipino well as Irish, Native American, English, and others. Not all my friends are American. But, I am an American. America has been referred to as a melting pot of many different types of people who came from many different places and many different circumstances. I am proud to be an American. I love my country. I even served briefly in the USAF. I have never seen a person who does not have color on their skin. My adopted family has Native American Heritage. Their ancestors were robbed of their land, their homes, killed and treated really bad. However, they never signed any “role” to make a claim to any sort of government pay off for the past. They just did the best they could with what they had and tried to make a better life each generatio