Identity Assumptions

“But where did you grow up?”

“In Brazil.”

“Oh, then you’re Brazilian.”

This was part of the conversation I was having with a Dutch coordinator from an organization I recently started volunteering for. She had asked me where I’m from and I said I’m a Brazilian-New Yorker. She decided, as several annoying people do, that she would define me in a way that was convenient for her – though perhaps her conceited self found it in her right to aid confused me to pick one thing to be. For some reason there’s always some-annoying-one like this, always trying to tell others what their identity is. (This is highly irritating but I’m trying to come up with ways to amuse myself with such ignoramuses).

Like many people I’ve met in Europe, I’m not any one thing and that seems to make others uncomfortable for reasons I cannot understand. Unfortunately the question, “Where are you from?” is among the first most people hear during an introduction here in Amsterdam (as it’s probably the case with non-locals worldwide). I have no straight answer but often, to keep things short, I go with “I’m from New York.” This prompts a series of questions about anything American, eventually topped off with questions about my slight accent. If I say I’m Brazilian another series of questions comes up and since I cannot answer many of them (because I left 18 years ago or because there are certain cultural exports Brazilians know nothing about) more questions follow.

This goes on forever, the asker trying desperately to form a convenient identity in his or her mind, one that defines a person as being from one country and having one main language. I’m working on a list of counter questions, things like “Who’s your father?” followed by “Are you sure?”