Somewhere there's somebody who looks just like you do. Acts just like you do - feels the same way. Somewhere there's a person in a faraway place with a different name and a face that looks like you. Do ya think about who it might be? Do you wonder where you are? In a distant foreign country ridin' 'round in another car - where the wheels keep on turning and turning and turning and nothing's disturbing the way they go around. All your thoughts are in another head. Your dreams are sleepin' in a different bed. The force that moves you is a circular breath of life and death going round and round and round.
- "The Wheel" sung by Edie Brickell
This song that I loved so very much in my small insular seventh-grade world where shaving the lower half of your head and wearing old World War II fatigues with Chuck Taylors was the thing to do has been playing in my head as I think about my family’s global origins. Isn’t it funny how very distant in reason those two images are? A much younger Me there in all of my homogenous private school pseudo-alt-cool innocence and the older mom Me looking for my biological Home. What I’m trying to say is that over the next year (or three), I will be dedicating some of my time (and blogspace) to tracking down the African side of my German father and the European side of my African-American mother. Any suggestions on where to begin?