I had my motherâs face, but because of the color of my skin, I didnât look to the world like I belonged to her.
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If I could not find belonging in my story of my father, in my grief, where could I find it? If I belonged nowhere and to no one, then what was I? Who was I?
I cannot remember a time when I wasnât aware of the fact that I had multiple selves, or a divided self, and that I needed to behave differently with the different groups of people that made up my life. All people do this to some extent, but some must be more skillful at it than others.
Not only did being biracial mean that I looked out of place, but I also didnât always know how to behave within the norms of my chosen nationality: Ghanaian. My English was too posh-sounding, courtesy of my time in England. It earned me the nickname Lady.
Ghana, America, England, Italy, Ethiopia, UgandaâI could not lay claim to any of those places in an incontestable way. It has always been difficult for me to say the word home with any conviction. When I was a child, I often felt like an outsider among my own family. Between me and them were bordersâgeographic, spiritual, cultural, linguistic. And no sooner had we arrived in a place than we had to prepare to leave it.
And as for what my father said about Africa, as much as I wanted to belong to Africa or to any place for that matter, I knew that I didnât. Not really. Not completely. In countless ways and for countless reasons, I loved growing up in many countries, among many cultures. It made it impossible for me to believe in the concept of supremacy. It deepened my ability to hold multiple truths at once, to practice and nurture empathy. But it has also meant that I have no resting place. I have perpetually been a them rather than an us. I have struggled with how to place myself in my family histories.
When I encounter strangers from my tribes, they are startled by my attempts to communicate. They do not recognize me as one of their own. They laugh, charmed and perhaps a little disturbed by the discrepancy between appearance and sound. When I explain myself, they think me a curious hybrid. They speak to me, always, in English.