But Where Are You From?
Abiola Regan lives in Canada. As of late, Abiola has been using her poetry to examine the interplay between one's self-identity and the identities that are imposed on people.
By Abiola Regan
“So, where are you from?”
Breathe in, breathe out.
And so it begins.
I suck in a deep breath to calm myself,
quell my rising frustration.
A seemingly innocuous curiosity that
quickly becomes insidious.
An admonishment of my existence.
“Where are you from?”
Breathe in, breathe out.
Relax, it is just a question.
Except it’s not. Not when I am asked it
based solely on the colour of my skin.
The skin that I proudly reside in.
My skin that is not other.
Part of me, but not all of me.
“Okay, but where are you from?”
Breathe in, breathe out.
I am hopeful but I already know
The answer will not be enough.
Not this time, and not next time.
An insistence on making other
that which is not. Repeated,
as if the intent is not understood.
“But where are you from?”
Breathe in, breathe out.
The way I sound, will not quiet doubts.
It's not loud enough to be heard
over the colour of my face.
Here is where I was born.
Here is where I was raised.
Here is where I live.
“No, but where are you from?”
Breathe in, breathe out.
My blink lasts a moment too long.
I suck in a deep breath to calm myself,
quell my risen frustration.
The silence that follows
is the kind that frightens me.
The kind loaded with reckless defiance.
“But, WHERE ARE YOU FROM?”