When I was in law school at the University of Michigan, many years ago, the Jewish Law Students organization sold t-shirts, emblazoned with “Michigan Law, Class of 1984.” I bought one.
A classmate chastised me. “They’re not a minority. Why would you patronize them?
Rather than analyze the comment, let’s do the math, and then let’s go back to analyzing the comment.
I’m female. The critic had no idea of my heritage.
My father was a Jew. My mother wasn’t.
I bought the t-shirt, because I was proud to be a member of the 1984 class of the University of Michigan Law School. My great-uncle and my dad were graduates, in 1899 and 1950, respectively, and although I hadn’t graduated at the time I bought the t-shirt, I hoped to be the third generation in my family to graduate from the University of Michigan Law School.
I did, in fact, graduate. I still have the t-shirt.