Isonah Dlodlo ’22 News Reporter
“Hi, my name is Isonah. I am from…” This seemingly basic statement is not as easy for me to complete as you might think. Due to my mother’s spontaneity, several months before my birth she chose to travel the world, I was born in the United States; a few weeks after my birth I moved to South Africa, where I was raised by my uncle for the first few years of life as my mother completed a graduate program at Harvard University. Later, I moved to Boston, followed by New York, New Jersey, Washington D.C., and now Maryland. I have spent enough time in each of these states that they all feel a little like home to me. I have cultivated so many memories in each of these places, and yet, I have a hard time describing Cameroon or South Africa as my home. My formative time in the United States has lessened my connection to Cameroon and South Africa.
I suppose that this struggle with heritage is an issue that many children of the diaspora experience. We, or at least I, struggle with identity. I am too attached to Cameroon and South Africa to fully identify as American, but I know that I am too linked to America to be considered Cameroonian or African.
Because of the different states I have lived in, each for such a short amount of time, I do not have a deep connection to or loyalty toward a specific state. Despite how difficult it may be for me to figure out my identity, I find that this quandary has strengthened me as a person. I have lived in some of the worst cities the world has to offer. I have seen death and violence in the crime-riddled streets of New Jersey. I have mourned losses so heavy that I have become numb to my emotions. But I have also lived in wealthy neighborhoods and understood privilege and how it benefits me in the most unfair circumstances.
I am from a family with a culture so rich, that I cannot help but feel blessed. I am a child of the African Diaspora who struggles with identity, who struggles to figure out how to explain to my family that I am gay, and who carries the anxiety of disownment due to who I am. As a woman who is from three different countries and five different states, I can undeniably say that Mercersburg has become a constant. At Mercersburg, I am unafraid to be myself; I do not feel shunned for being too American or too African. So although this may be cliché, I can affirm that Mercersburg has played an instrumental role in defining my identity.
I remember first coming to Mercersburg and finding my place with other children of the African Diaspora. I find joy in the fact that I can bond with people over the best things about Africa and the struggles that come with growing up away from my home country. I have been taken under the wing of former students and learned that it is acceptable to be from various countries. I have come to understand that my diversity, although confusing, is enriching and wonderful.
In one instance, I was eating dinner with my family, enjoying some baton de Manok, my favorite childhood meal. I came to realize proudly (AKS) during that meal that I am from Cameroon with its flavorful food and beating drums that are irresistible to dance to. I am from the city lights of South Africa, the cold Boston nights, the never-ending New York days, and the D.C. love. That night I learned that my diversity is what makes me who I am. I learned that it’s alright to be unsure about my identity, but I will continue to embrace and value my diversity.