Cultural legacy

I just finished Malcolm Gladwell's "Outliers: The Story of Success"--a thought-provoking read on why we should reconsider what leads to success and how we might be able to increase opportunities for more people to be successful. One of the intriguing points he makes is about cultural legacy. He focuses on two major populations--Korean pilots, who because of their culture of deference to authority have a hard time speaking up to prevent plane accidents; and Southerners, who because of the defensive and suspicious culture that surrounded the settling of the less-than-fertile land are still to this day more likely to react violently to situations. He's careful to say that these are not all-encompassing legacies, but asserts that if you want to change behavior, you have to at least acknowledge them.

It got me thinking about my own legacy. By many accounts (not necessarily our own), my immediate family is considered successful. Parents married almost 38 years, financially stable yet generous, involved in the community. Four kids, all college graduates (assuming the last one doesn't screw up something in the next 6 weeks) and two doctorates among them; hard workers, athletes, volunteers, and faith-filled disciples. What was in about growing up a Zapapas near the turn of the millenium that set us up for success?

Our cultural legacy is built on a combination of Greek entrepreneurship and German blue-collar work. My great-grandfather came over from Greece on a boat as a teenager and opened a candy kitchen that is still churning out homemade confections. His son (my dad's dad) saw the value of hard work and obtained a degree in pharmaceuticals, traveling the world and sending all six of his children to college. On my mom’s side, my German grandfather was a partner in an electrical company, who worked hard until the day he died but never settled into financial security. My mom grew up into expectations of pulling your weight, but she wanted more. She studied hard, graduated college with straight A's and a business degree, making sure she would always be able to provide for her family. Between these two legacies, college was an expectation for us growing up. School was first (well, God and family were really first—another legacy, stemming from two Catholic matriarchs who were both married for over 50 years and had their priorities straight), and everything else was second. You never gave less than your best. Summer time was for playing outside, but also for doing math workbooks and reading. We watched my parents both work full-time jobs so we could play sports year-round and go to a Catholic grade-school. We just never thought about doing anything differently.

Had any of us been born into a family whose legacy was farming, or ranching, or holding down minimum-wage jobs, things would have been different. Had we come from a series of broken families, things would have been different. Instead we were raised in an environment that cultivated our curiosities and strengths, buoyed by expectations of generations before us. Our culture legacy didn't do all the work, nor should it limit us, but I think it's interesting and important to consider. I, for one, am extremely grateful for mine.