No Dogs. No Greeks.

When Professor Decker showed the class the New Yorker cartoon, I asked the person sitting next to me if I was considered a white ethnic. Ironically, the next thing we learned was that, yes, Greeks were considered white ethnics. Almost immediately I began to remember my grandfather's famous immigration story:

After arriving in New York and taking the train to Chicago, my grandfather was alone, poor and hungry. He had nothing to his name but $20 and a Greek-English dictionary. He tried to go to a restaurant, but in the window there was a sign that said "No Dogs. No Greeks."

When I first heard this story I didn't understand why Greeks were discriminated against. I didn't think Greeks ever made up a significant population in the United States. Tuesday's lecture was an unexpected affirmation of my family history. Furthermore, my grandfather knows more about United States history than many people I know — not unlike the message of the second cartoon in which the white ethnic shows national pride.

And now I'm wondering, again, if I'm a white ethnic, or if the times have changed. To a certain extent, I don't think the term has died off entirely, or at least not the concept. I still have my Greek folk dancing outfit somewhere...