The photos below are focused on young adults unpacking their experience in a "third-culture," balancing their Ethiopian background and upbringing in Western societies, navigating the world while carrying this piece of their identity. The full catalog of interviews and photos from the entire project will be available in the future.
“There are so many first-generation Ethiopians that don't speak Amharic. Parents are very saddened by it. It makes me sad, too, because I don’t speak it the way that I used to, but I think it's okay because there's still other things that we embrace. As long as its not dead - that means that everybody has to contribute to that for it not to die off. I think we bear a lot in our shoulders.” – Meron, Seattle
“You’ll have white friends, and when they invite you to something, it’s so awkward because there’s so many of them. You kind of need some spice in a sea of white rice. You feel really uncomfortable when you’re the only one there because you can’t relate as much. Your parents don’t really act the same. They’ll invite you and your parents, but I won’t go because my parents would feel so awkward in this situation. I don’t want to put them through that, and I don’t want to go through that.” – Shakira, Atlanta
“People expect you to be different. Not that you’re weird, but they expect something not usual from you. I have a white friend, and he’ll say stuff to me about how he doesn’t like to be white. He doesn’t want to be bland. He’s like, ‘You got flavor.’ He wants to get that from me, or hang out with me for that reason … I feel I could be more flavorful. I’m like a normal American dude.” – Henok, Minneapolis
“We always have our hair in shiruba or qutirtir, and people ask, ‘Why don’t you straighten it?’ … I’d wear an Ethiopian shirt to school sometimes and classmates would ask me, ‘Why are you wearing that?’ … I would call Ethiopian friends out by the Ethiopian pronunciation of their names, and they wouldn’t be happy because all of a sudden it sounded too foreign and everybody would look at them differently. It kept pushing me because I was proud of where I was from and the culture that built me … In high school, I was always either yelling at somebody in Amharic or pronouncing my Ethiopian friends’ names in an Ethiopian way. I know some of them weren’t necessarily happy with it, but I know they are now because when you go to college you have to know what makes you different than everybody else.” - Birhan, Maryland
“It feels cool to be different, to not be like everyone else, to know where you’re from for real, and have an immediate connection to somewhere outside of this place. Being able to be part of a greater community, specifically being Ethiopian, you get to be from this country that has this rich history … It’s just cool to be something bigger than yourself, and that’s something I can be. It just came, and I didn’t have to do anything to get it.” – Bilal, Dallas
“A really good friend of mine told me that when you speak your language, you’re speaking from the heart. I feel like that’s really true. You can speak in English, but when you speak in your native tongue, there are words you can’t express in English … That’s why I named my playlist From the Heart. Because I felt like it beautifully embodied what Amharic means to me and just encompasses how I feel about our country and the beauty of its traditions.” – Hanan, Virginia
“I need to know both sides … I say I’m Ethiopian-Australian, but what is that really? I’ve lived in Australia my whole life, so I guess I know that side more, and I just know what my parents tell me, but I haven’t really seen it. I feel like trying to go out there and really understand that culture and that country, and then I can be really proud when I say I’m Ethiopian-Australian. Right now, I’m just saying it because that’s what I am, and that’s what my parents are, but I haven’t really known the place.” – Eden, Melbourne
“My [extended] family just recently moved here [from Ethiopia] so … not pronouncing words the right way and them teaching you how to pronounce it … makes you feel like, ‘Oh my God, am I not Ethiopian enough?’ or, ‘Why do I not know this?’ or, ‘Why do I not know that?’ … The whole being American and being Ethiopian, not really knowing where we fit in between. I know it’s not just me, and I know that maybe this is a new culture too. That you don’t necessarily have to be just one.” – Sosina, Minneapolis
“[My mom] felt like every person that she met that was racist … she wanted to try to change how they felt about black people. I noticed that it’s kind of the opposite with me. Whenever I feel that someone is racist or making racist remarks around me, I feel the need to leave or not speak to them again … My mom, she’s like, ‘You don’t need to leave this person. You need to change their perspective’ … I think that comes from her growing up in an area where people like her are all around her. She was always taught to be proud of who she was. Being here as a minority, you experience different things. You don’t have tolerance for the racist things.” – Hana, Dallas
"I feel like people that are Ethiopian are figuring out that having a family and having a degree isn’t all that it takes to be happy. To be genuinely happy, you have to give … I feel like that’s when you find your ultimate peace because you’re a part of something, and you’re giving something fuel. You’re the reason why it’s standing. Just like having a kid, having your own life matters so it doesn’t matter what you do, it matters who you are. So, make who you are a better being every day.” – Hundaol, Maryland
“Ethiopian culture is hippy … I didn’t realize until I was an adult, but have you even thought about some names? Like Mulunesh. What is Mulunesh really? You are full. You are abundant, is the name. Or Alemtsehaye is the light of the world. That’s hippy. Tsehaye is just sun … Those are common Amhara names, but we don’t think about it because it’s just the standard. You don’t necessarily think to think about the meaning even though it clearly is a word or words.” – Leila, Atlanta
“I used to hate saying my name, oh my God. I used to say my name is Paul. So when there used to be roll call in school, I would say, ‘My name is Paulos, I would prefer to be called Paul.’ For a long time, but now, I’m just so used to it, so my name is Paulos. As time goes, you start not to be ashamed, to be proud of who you are, and where you’re from.” – Paulos, Melbourne
"I use the alphabet a lot. It’s a way to learn the language or how to read, but it also is a direct way for me to connect to the language of my culture … I came up with these phrases looking at the alphabet and sounding out the words. I’m sure I misspelled certain phrases which I kind of like because it points to the fact that I was born here, and there’s a sense of a loss of translation that happens. I want that to be reflected in my work because I think that’s much more genuine than me getting it absolutely 100% right. That’s not real. That’s me calling my mom up being like, ‘Hey, is this how it’s spelled?’” – Tsedaye, Maryland
“They will still have another home. Wherever they are born, they’ll still have another home in Ethiopia. So it’s important for them to know the language and know where they come from and where their family comes from so it’s easier for them when they go to visit it’s not hard. People look at you differently or look ashamed when you don’t know the language.” – Rakeb, Maryland