Phillip A Bishop
Exercise Physiology
University of Alabama
[Oct 5, 2009] —
I have always cherished my Cuban heritage.
My grandfather was Pedro Diaz, who emigrated from Cuba to the Miami area at the end of the 19th century. I always thought my mother’s name was Mary until the day of her funeral, when my oldest brother let me know that her given name was “Maria.”
The Pressure To Assimilate
It is easy to understand that first-generation émigrés want to be part of the U.S. culture as completely and quickly as possible. I realize now the cultural pressures to assimilate that my mother and her brothers Ramon and Manuel faced.
Because I am second-generation Cuban and a native son of the U.S., I am not threatened by my Cuban heritage. In fact, I am quite proud of it. I actually relish being a minority. Maybe it’s because I like being a minority that I have enjoyed my minority status as a Christian in a public American university.
When I became a professor at the University of Alabama, I wanted to learn the lingo, the look, and the actions of a professor. It didn’t take me long to figure out that the culture of the modern U.S. public university did not include Christianity.
I was sitting in a departmental meeting about my third year. The chairman wrapped up the meeting by suggesting that it was “entirely inappropriate for a faculty member to mention anything ‘religious’ in class.” Because I was the only overtly “religious” member in the department, I had little doubt that he was referring to me.
A few weeks later, I received a memo advising me that any mention of Christianity (now it was more specific than mere “religion”), was prohibited by the University. Yet, one of my colleagues, a few years ago, published a paper suggesting that Christians shouldn’t be licensed to teach children, because Christians were such a dangerous influence.
The Great Temptation
Although it was over 20 years ago, I recall my contemplation of the issues of this new culture. The great temptation was to integrate fully and quickly into this anti-religious society. Just “go along to get along.” Blend in; don’t separate myself through any allegiance to Christianity.
I am a minority on earth. My citizenship is in heaven; here, I am an alien and stranger in the world (I Peter 2:11). It is my status as a Christian that has attracted a lot more attention in my university than has my status as second-generation Cuban. And, not all of that attention has consistently been pleasant.
And yet, being a foreigner has its advantages.
When we do something “strange” it can be attributed to the fact that we are foreign. Most of my colleagues know that I am a devout Christian. When I bow to pray at a meal, or leave for a Christian faculty meeting during the week, or travel on some mission trip, it’s seen as “what we’d expect out of him.”
Early in my career when I was in trouble for being bold (but not too bold) in sharing my faith, many of my students, and even a few colleagues, defended me by saying, “Hey, that’s just who he is.”
They see it as my heritage. I have never received a higher compliment.
© 2009 Phillip A. Bishop