Who gets to decide what is Really Swedish?

Through interacting with Swedish-Americans, mostly online, I’ve learned that what is perceived as Swedish in the United States differ widely from what is perceived as Swedish by present-day Swedes. Descendants of Swedish immigrants to the US keep alive traditions that may have died out in Sweden long ago. Swedish immigrants also intermarried with other Scandinavians, and their descendants mix and match between the traditions sometimes unknowingly. One example: All Americans talk about lutefisk, not knowing that is the Norwegian word. (Swedish: lutfisk.) Lefse (a flatbread) is also assumed to be solidly Swedish even tho it’s mainly Norwegian.

Many Swedish American foods and practices remind me of my grandparents, all born at the end of the 1800s and the very early 1900s. Old fashioned cooking principles involved boiling the life out of both meat and vegetables and/or covering them in heavy flour bases sauces. My mother’s generation rebelled against much of this, and for good reason.

Customs or dishes common in Sweden today usually don’t make their way across the Atlantic. If they do, it’s in popularized or bastardized versions. Hygge (a Danish word referring to creating moments and spaces of laidback cosiness) and fika (the Swedish tradition of having coffee and conversation) are two examples.

All this means that the Swedishness of Swedish American culture feels old-fashioned and limited to a Swede of today. There are many possibilities for misunderstandings, contradictory interpretations, and arguments. Both sides feel strongly that their version is the correct one. I surprise myself by being quite invested in the discussions. My own Swedishness comes out more judgmental and argumentative than I’m really willing to admit.

A perfect day

Santa Clara University Nov. 8, 2019.

The first year I lived in the California I thought to myself that every single day could have been a summer’s day in Sweden. Summer’s days in Sweden can be hot and sunny, or cold and rainy. But the trees and lawns will be green, and everything is generally pretty.

A California November day, like today: Sunny, 72F or 22C. Perfect Swedish summer. Guy on skateboard included.

That could have been you, my dear

I was visiting in Sweden a couple of summers ago, and had to get up early for an appointment. On my way back I passed through a park. It was still early, probably before nine, and the air was cool the way it is in the summer when you know the day is going to be hot.

There were a couple of blonde girls raking leaves in the park. They looked like volleyball players, tall, and strong. I couldn’t figure out what they were doing until I remembered that Swedish high school and college students often have summer jobs filling in during the regular staff’s summer vacation. (Swedish employees have around 6 weeks of paid vacation time, and usually take 4 of those weeks back to back during the summer.) Outdoor summer jobs are the best, because, well, you get to spend all summer outdoors. When I was growing up you’d only get the outdoor jobs through connections.

Right now I’m also remembering an affluent young woman, one of my students in Silicon Valley. She had grown up on a ranch in Morgan Hill, in the south end of the San Francisco Bay Area. As an undergraduate she spent a semester studying abroad in London.

When she came back to school in California I asked her about her time in London. It soon became obvious there was some part of her experience she didn’t want to name. It took some prodding, but finally she told me and her classmates that in London had been the first time she’d seen white people do manual labor. White people, looking just like herself, had cleaned, sold tickets to the Underground, worked in the supermarkets, and swept the streets. She’d never before experienced anything like it.