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Ethnic and National Identity [1]

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Date: 2025-07-07

Until he won the primary, I had never heard of Zohran Mamdani. Today, I can’t stop hearing about him, everyone is talking about him in one way or another. The curious thing is that, like me, most people talking had also never heard of Mamdani before. But now? They’re experts on his life, hell, they even know how he thinks and feels, apparently.

I still don’t know much about Mamdani, because there’s a whole lot of racism, bigotry, and propaganda swirling around the discourse about this man, whose main "crimes" seem to be that he’s a Muslim and a Socialist. The latest round of attacks, though, is centered around a topic I’m probably more familiar with than 90% of you: the controversy over which box Mamdani checked on a college application form regarding his identity.

Let’s put aside the fact that many seem to forget he was a teenager when he checked that box. I assume he wasn’t yet in politics, probably not plotting the grand schemes you’re now ascribing to him. Instead, let’s talk about why someone might check a certain box.

Most of you are secure in your ethnic and national identity. You’re U.S. citizens, born on American soil to American parents who fall into familiar ethnic categories. You’re Black Americans who grew up in Black communities, surrounded by Black culture. Or you’re White, Hispanic, Native, Asian, whatever your background, the story is the same. You grew up knowing which boxes to check, because that’s how the U.S. does things: demographics, districts, census… a whole lot of little boxes.

But a lot of other countries don’t operate that way. Many don’t have racial or ethnic boxes, just “citizen” or “foreigner,” or maybe a space to write your country of birth. For a “melting pot,” the US sure likes to separate its ingredients. And not everyone is raised constantly defining themselves by ethnic identity. I know this firsthand. As an American Haitian raised between two countries, with two nationalities, I can tell you, it’s not always obvious what box to check.

I have a cousin who was born on the African continent—in Congo, I think. Her mother is Haitian; her father is German. She considers herself Black… but the girl is whiter than snow. It’s not as simple as checking a box when your identity is twisted in a hundred different directions. She’s approaching 50 and still doesn’t know what to put down.

An acquaintance of mine once traveled to the U.S. He’s Haitian, his parents are Haitian, his grandparents were Haitian, great-grandparents too. But he had no idea what box to check. Even the immigration officer was confused. In the end, he wrote down “White Haitian.” See? It’s not always clear-cut.

Me? I’m American, born in New York City. My parents are Haitian. We’ve also got Black American lineage. I was raised between Haiti and the U.S. and, when I was younger, I didn’t know what the heck to call myself. Haitian? American? My skin is on the lighter side. At the time, Haiti didn’t allow dual citizenship. When you’re young, and not really one thing or another, identity isn’t so clear.

Do you know how confusing it is to tell a young person: “You’re Black and you’re American, but you’re not Black American. You have Black Americans in your family, but you’re not a descendant of Black American slaves, although you do have some in your family tree, you’re not really one of us. But you’re directly descended from Haitian slaves, which are apparently not the right kind of slaves”? Maybe y’all need a box called "Confusion" for some of us. Yes, I know there’s “Other” and “I’d rather not say,” but people want to belong. That’s why those of us with tangled backgrounds dread those boxes.

Y’all are out here analyzing this man’s identity using your own experiences, assuming that everyone had the same clarity you grew up with. But not all of us were lucky enough to know exactly who we were from day one.

Have you ever had to ask yourself:

"Does being born in Uganda mean I’m technically Black, even if my skin is brown?"

"Do my Indian parents make me Indian?"

"Am I one or both? Or neither? Where do I fit?"

Where’s the box for “confused”?

Now, I don’t know why Mamdani checked that box, or if he ever asked himself those questions. But I know I did. It wasn’t until my mid-20s that I finally found myself: Black American Haitian, better known now as #ThePoet. That’s my identity.

The first time I had to check one of those boxes on a U.S. form, I had no idea what I was supposed to pick. By then, I had been called everything. I wasn’t Black enough for Black Americans. I wasn’t white enough for white people. Once, I even checked Hispanic, because people kept speaking Spanish to me, assuming I was Hispanic (I’ve told that story before). I was probably 16 or 17 at the time. Some kind of application.

It’s easy to sit in judgment when you’ve never had to question who you are. When you’ve never had to search for your roots. When the world has always handed you a box that fit.

Not all of us are that lucky.

#TheAmericanHaitianPoet #Woke #SocialPoetry

Paypal.me/murielvieux (the poet could use some help)

Muriel Vieux – July 7th, 2025 – ©All rights reserved

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