Admittedly, I am still riding my Wakanda high, but that doesn't make this post any less relevant.

I can't remember the first time I got this question (considering my complexion and more "European" features, I'm sure I got it much earlier...I mean, the man who came to tune our piano thought my grandmother was "Mexican" so..) but I remember the first time I responded. It was to an African man (at the time, I assumed he was Ethiopian or Eritrean based on his features but I've since learned how those can be misleading) who followed me off the bus at the Ballston metro station.

"Excuse me, but what are you?"

"Pardon?"

He adjusted himself. Perhaps he realized the familiarity in my response.

"I mean, where are you from?"

"Missouri."

He chuckled. "No, I mean...where are you REALLY from?"

Now, I knew what he was getting at. At the time, I lived in the DMV for about 6 months and had been confronted by several people speaking Amharic. In fact, almost 8 years later, I still get it.

I smiled. "You know, a little thing called "slavery" happened, preventing me from knowing where I'm from."

"Okay, well you're one of us."

I didn't know if by "us" he meant his tribe or African, but it sparked a fire in me. I began to study genealogy. I was always curious. I mean, I knew I descended from Africans (duh), my father spoke of our Irish heritage, and my mother spoke of our Native heritage, but I always wanted to know where our African-ness came from. Blame it on the many Nigerian friends I had growing up and their rich cultures, but I always wanted that.

Anyway, I started searching. I got pretty far too but eventually hit a wall. At the time I was too broke to pay for the full Ancestry membership...despite my researching at the Library of Congress and National Archives.

Fast forward to 2017, and I still didn't know. By then, I lived in DC and Chicago (where they swore I was Puerto Rican), but it took me passing by a store owned by a man who was my father's twin, to make me purchase my ancestry test.

I had to know "what" I was.

In addition to the European (but this ain't about them right now...) results, I found out that my African ancestry came from Benin/Togo and Cameroon. I was geeked. I could finally answer the question.

I began discovering these people, the tribes, and cultures that they consist of. I saw their dress, and the foods, and I felt a kinship.

I was proud.

This doesn't go to say that I'm not proud of my other ancestral lines (btw, DNA results show that I am not Native American), but I finally feel like my puzzle is complete. The people with whom I most closely identify, have been identified. I am whole.

Full disclosure: yes, I yelped a bit when I heard Michael Bae Jordan discuss Beninese art last night. But hey, that's what I do when I'm proud. I still smile when I see "Sharp" electronics.