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.

I close my eyes and I see it

I’ve loved Simon and Garfunkel for as long as I can remember. And, since I was a kid all through the 1960s, I think that’s actually, literally, true. They’ve always been there. They’re part of the image I created for myself of the United States. Simon and Garfunkel, Bobby Kennedy, the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City, The Lucy Show, The Flintstones, ice cream and milk in a glass, and a hand-me-down dress I wore way past having grown out of it. The dress was made from blue and white searsucker, and it had red trim. It was American in every way possible, because it had been given to me by a family who had lived in the US for a while. Civil rights and Lucille Ball, a girl’s cotton dress. I was 7.