Written by : Liya Endale

I grew up like much of the 80’s diaspora babies, political asylum seekers in multiple countries. We landed in the United States and moved around from city to city chasing a stable life and finally found it in Atlanta. Though I only lived in Ethiopia my first year of life, I always imagined it as a place where I’d return one day and finally feel that sense of belonging I had never known. Well, needless to say, that was not the case when I returned for the first time as a college student and visited the ancient monasteries on Lake Tana in my over sized Tommy Hilfiger sweatshirt and Timbs (which I left at the threshold of the churches). But, instead of pushing me away from my birth land, it propelled me into a furious search for a deeper identity that incorporated Ethiopia as my foundation but also wove in my Dutch and my Texan and my ATL.

Ethiopia has a specifically complex history imbued with culture, spirituality and religion. Axum was the first state in the world to adopt Christianity as its official religion and Christianity was practiced in the country as early as ten years after the crucifixion. Islam also has deep roots in Ethiopia.

We still have ethnicities that practice indigenous spiritual belief systems that preceded both these religions. Though you may follow one of these ways of life, our culture is that which is embossed by all of them in a way that I took for granted.

I just accepted that this is just how things are and never thought to understand how things got this way. Through my time researching, writing and conversing with people much smarter than myself about these topics, I’ve adopted a live and let live mentality. Beyond the basic principle of not harming others, I believe each of us have a right to live and value whatever it is that we choose because if God granted us that freedom, who am I to impose my beliefs and values?

I understand this is traditionally a Western idea rooted in individualism and acknowledge that my counseling degree and experience has shaped my understanding of human identity development in this way. There is something that occurs when you spend countless hours listening to how people shape their perspectives through their experiences. I’ve grown to empathize more and judge less. 

We are a culmination of experiences that shape our lens. Today, we can come from anywhere and live anywhere on the planet. That means our communities are losing that sense of shared experience and shared identity while they are growing diversity. It’s an uncharted paradigm shift and we are collectively shaping what that does and should look like.

For me, as the (mild) relativist and subjectivist, I can only speak to my experiences. I move quite comfortably within the African American community and my son’s father is from Athens, Georgia. I picked up very quickly that our schools in the United States do not teach accurate information about Africa as a continent, specifically as it relates to the history of the world and current political, educational and cultural realities.

The curriculum seems hyper focused on slavery as though it were the incipience of the Black race. I found myself correcting my teachers as early as 2nd grade. I found myself questioning how we could learn about so many important battles, wars and victories that shaped world events and not know about Adwa? 

As an adult counselor working with mostly African American children and families in the public educational system, I wondered how this lack of information about the people we come from affected their sense of self and identity. Were they buying this fragmented and un-contextualized information about slavery? Did they identify with this narrative stripped of the empowering truths pertaining to the brilliance and tact that preceded and succeeded and even existed simultaneously?

So, I read and further educated myself. I read W.E.B. DuBois, Booker T. Washington, Malcolm X, Molefi Asante, Eleni Tedla and so many others. And yet, as I progress through my PhD and interact with scholars with similar research interests, I am overwhelmed by how much I have yet to learn. Now, I am a mom to a bright seven-year-old who has been to Ethiopia twice already and declares that he is 50% Ethiopian and 100% American. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care at all if he identifies with his Ethiopian roots. However, I do put in much effort to giving him all the information and experiences he needs to make an informed decision for himself.

One way is by creating a collage of photos of the elders from both sides of his family. It sits in the dining room so we can talk about each of them by name. He is full of questions that I have to go back and ask our parents about. The information we learn gives each photo texture, life and a relatable identity. It is as if we are building relationships with our parents, grandparents, great grandparents and, yes, even our great, great, grandmother, Emaye Birknesh.

Do I know what I’m doing? No way. Are we having fun? Absolutely. Are we learning about the lives of the many people who passed down their DNA and values to us on a personal level? Yes. Is it shaping the way we see ourselves and our role in our communities? Definitely. Does that really matter? You tell me.

Liya Endale is a PhD student in Educational Psychology whose research interests include the role of African heritage in African American identity. She is also the founder of Global Education Foundation, a non-profit dedicated to facilitating intercultural learning experiences to increase creative education for young people everywhere. She worked as a licensed high school counselor for five years and has published two books, a motivational memoir called “Contradictions” and an anthology she published with her sister called “Shades of home: Perspectives on Identity by the Young Eritrean and Ethiopian Diaspora.” She enjoys the outdoors and traveling with her family and friends.