There are those of us who cannot simply say “I am from____.” Our histories span geographies that make such an answer “complicated”. Nativity having been braided; the multiple lands that claim us, plaited—we live with the demand to “choose one” to make it easier for someone to understand how to categorize us, where to place us. But it’s complicated…in a good way. Quite a few of us are comprised of multiple layers of “here” that cannot be relegated to one place, people, culture, language… one anything. The lean in our voice, the sensibility in our navigating the world, the shade of our skin, the sway of our outlook, and yes, our parents all come from/are sourced from different places, experiences. We are the product of the alchemy of yes and no, here and there, depart and arrive.

In a day where multiculturality is moreso the norm than before, it is still a challenge to explain in brief, everyday conversation. Digestable definitions are rooted in what is already familiar, what’s commonly expected— encountering a person with entangled, disparate origins gets called “a long story“, that usually finishes with “it’s complicated…” Carrying an Ivory B. bag is proudly representing the usefulness—and beauty— of this narrative. Because, at the end of the day, it all comes down to #howyoucarryit