Who am I? Traversing the question of one’s identity in a multicultural existence

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There is an anonymous quote I once read that stated, “Do you know who you are? If so, why don’t you act like it?” As two Ethiopian born sisters who spent our first years in Ethiopia, five years in the Netherlands, and the past twenty years in the U.S., the question of “who am I?” has been on our minds off and on for most of our lives. This constant state of ambivalence, the fickle nature of the true answer, the wavering and swaying of all which encompasses who we are is maddening at times and amazing as well. Mystifying like a fog. Frustrating and empowering all at the same time. We feel like a tapestry comprised of global elements that portray a journey like no one else’s, not even each other’s. So very unique, original, and alone. We carry this dimension of our identity like a distorted piece of glass between the rest of the world and ourselves transforming into an unidentified silhouette to those who don’t quite understand. On our side of the glass we are a bit freer than those whose edges are clear to be scrutinized, shaped and molded by a majority they belong in. But every once in a while we peer over the glass and take in images, American on one side- Habesha on the other, of those moments when the temptation of inclusion creates a grain of salt to carry in a pocket. A reminder of what could have been. We truly thought we were the only ones who experienced these feelings and emotions. In recent times, however, we are realizing there is a whole generation of us young Habesha who traverse a dual life and identity. Scattered across this nation are millions of members in the Young Habesha Diaspora, each with a different story and perspective but all with a common thread. We are young, Habesha, and proud. And we each dance along this fine-line of self identification that shifts and compromises as we disperse further and further from home.

We celebrate our identity everyday through the music we play, the food we eat, the friends we make. But where does the ominous line come down? How much Habeshannet is enough to really be Habesha? And who is the ultimate decider of such personal things as identity? This ambivalence comes not just from an internal place, but from the world on the other side of our glass walls. We humans, in general, do not like things we cannot fit into a box. For this reason we rely on common stereo-types to guide us through our lives. If we see a person enter our store wearing a dress and lipstick, we assume this person is a woman. If we sell wedding dresses in our store and the individual is wearing a diamond ring on her ring-finger, we assume that she is shopping for her own wedding dress. These are assumptions that may not have catastrophic consequences. In fact, if we as humans never assumed anything of each other, we would have very difficult conversations on a daily basis. “Hello Sir or Madam. Welcome to my store. Are you looking to buy any of the following items: a boat, scissors, brown slippers, or a bath mat? How about a cake or a lawn mower?” Instead, a good salesperson would approach the customer and say something like, “That is a beautiful ring. When is the big day? You look like a size 8, let me show you what we have in that size.” There are enough things we have to think about every day. No one wants to consider that this individual who has strolled into the store may really be an under-cover agent who is staking out the apartment of a culprit who has been approaching women in the area. This under-cover agent, the only small-sized, male cop on the force who could pass for a girl in pumps and a stuffed brazier and has the upper-body strength to fend off an attack from a malicious neighborhood threat, may have dressed as a woman to attempt to lure this culprit into arrest. Could this happen? Sure! Would we assume it? No! Why? Because that type of thing does not usually occur and, thus, it would not be as helpful for us to consider such a laborious possibility as an option. In the same manner, living between two cultures makes us an anomaly. We do not fit into typical Habesha or American stereotypes and this makes a lot of people on both sides uncomfortable. Some people, usually non-Ethiopians, are surprised that we sisters were born in Ethiopia but that our cousins back home live in houses bigger than the ones we live in here in the States. Others are surprised that we’ve lived in America so long but still cook Injera and tibs. Others do not approve that we self-identify as Ethiopian. We consider ourselves Ethiopian to this day despite only living there for our first few years.

The good thing about identity, though, is that you have influence in molding it. From our place behind our glass walls, we have an opportunity to observe cultural phenomenon from an outside perspective and then decide for ourselves whether or not we want to incorporate each one into our identities. For us, personally, we have decided to invest in our culture of origin despite any barriers. We have American-life down pat and can function here no matter what, so why not give the Habesha community a try? Why not attempt to connect further and see if they can make space for us? However, our young Habesha cohort and we are realizing that having a multicultural upbringing means we get to do this our own way. In recent times we have spent more and more time with the younger members of the Habesha in America and have connected with a lot of innovative, interesting, and unique individuals who are more successful when forging their own road rather than doing what others have done before them. By doing their own thing, some, like Wayna, Burntface, and Dinaw Mengistu, are even getting the recognition of mainstream America. In following our own path, we have decided that it is time to chronicle the individual experiences of our group in our constant efforts to bridge the dual life that is our daily existence. With help, we sisters are working on a book whose goal is to capture the diversity of Habesha identity in this group of young people through a collection of photography, artwork and written works. If you are a young Habesha writer, poet, artist, or photographer and have work that illustrates this young Habesha identity, we want to publish your work. Go to http://habeshadiaspora.wordpress.com for information on how to submit your work and for examples of the types of pieces we are collecting. The best of these submissions will be compiled in a book and published. It’s time to show the world who we are and we hope to include your voice!