Cultural Identity

For as long as I can remember I’ve struggled with my cultural identity. Both of my parents are Ethiopian, which ultimately makes me an Ethiopian. However, I live my life as an African American. Whether it be me not understanding a word of Amharic. Rarely attending Ethiopian gatherings. Or even my transparency about being Ethiopian. For some reason, I’ve always tried to hide who I am, up until now.

All of my Ethiopian friends can speak Amharic, except for me. The main difference between us is that I grew up in a single parent household. Which led to my mother having to constantly work in order to provide for my siblings, and not around enough to teach us Amharic. The language barrier has always held me back from getting more involved with my culture. I always felt discouraged because most of the time I had no idea what was being said, and I really wanted to know what was going on. Ethiopians always speak to me in a language I know nothing about, and that just makes me feel uncomfortable. At times, I even feel like an outsider even though it’s who I am. In addition to this, my non-fluency in Amharic has always held me back from visiting Ethiopia. I’ve always been a bit ashamed of myself when I’d see a family member, and they’d speak to me in Amharic. I could never respond to them because I had no idea what they were saying. This makes things awkward, and I’d have to put on a fake smile to try to ease the discomfort. In an effort to combat this, I always promised myself that I’d learn to speak Amharic one day.

On a normal year, I might go to two or maybe three Ethiopian gatherings. While the rest of the community goes to 12 events minimum. The get-togethers have always felt boring and lifeless to me. While everyone else is dancing and having a good time, I’m just in the back on my phone because no one is speaking English, thus I’m oblivious to almost every aspect of the party. I have no idea what the music is about or what’s being said. I feel isolated there. My head is in a different place. I’m not connected to anyone or anything around me. But at the same time, it feels like I’m running from my true self. Whether I’d like to admit it or not, I’m Ethiopian. My race is Black/African American, my nationality is American, but my ethnicity is Ethiopian. If I’m Ethiopian, then why should I not surround myself with other Ethiopians? On one hand, if I step outside of my comfort zone by visiting the country or learning the language I’ll be uncomfortable. But on the other hand, if I don’t immerse myself in the Ethiopian culture. I’m not being true to myself.

Lastly, I’m not very open about my ethnicity. All my friends have an Ethiopian flag emoji in their Instagram biographies, but not me. It seems like every Ethiopian besides me broadcasts their heritage to the world. I experienced an awakening recently. This Summer, I spent a lot of time with my cousin in Buffalo, and I spent a lot of time with her Ethiopian friends. When I went to an Ethiopian graduation party, I didn’t feel so left out. I knew who to talk to and everyone seemed so welcoming. I was no longer the outsider. I had deep conversations about my future with complete strangers. It didn’t feel forced. When I got back to Philly I began to look at things more clearly. And embrace who I am. I was intrigued to say the least by the idea of being an Ethiopian. My transparency is definitely something that will begin to change these next couple years. I want to hang an Ethiopian flag in my room, I want an Ethiopian flag in my Instagram biography, and I want to surround myself with more Ethiopians.

My cultural identity is always something that I’ve struggled with and will continue to be a struggle, but at least now I know who I am. I might not be able to speak Amharic yet. I know that I have trouble socializing with Ethiopians. But, now that I have clarity on who I am, I will work on those things and better myself as an Ethiopian.