Samoa will always be home away from home. Photo / Getty Images
OPINION
Where are you from?
I’m not sure how normal it is to get asked that, but I get asked that a lot. And usually I think it’s because I’m brown, of course.
The answer is usually dependent on the environment or context I find myself in - and whether or not I believe the person who is asking has a genuine intention for asking in the first place.
“I’m Samoan, but born and raised Kiwi.”
That’s the go-to answer. I am selau pasene (100 per cent) Samoan. I hail from fishermen villages in the motherland and when the plane touches the tarmac at Faleolo International Airport, I breathe in and think: “Home.”
But Aotearoa New Zealand is also home. Born and raised in Henderson, Massey, Ranui, Te Atatū, West Auckland - I’ll show you the best back roads to avoid the motorway or Lincoln Rd any day.
“But where do you really come from?”
Sometimes, there’s a pause after that question; as I try to work out exactly how deep it is.
Do you mean the suburb I live in, my ethnic or family background or what city I live in?
I believe people ask this because they want to find some kind of connection - whether it be the place you grew up in or a person you both may know.
That’s usually the case when a Samoan or Pacific Islander asks you: “Where are you from?”
As soon as you mention a familiar place, the conversation evolves to finding more connections - a cousin who turns out to be a mutual friend, a local church you both know people at or if you know a Junior who used to go to Waitak.
But sometimes...that question is asked for a different reason.
Black British woman Ngozi Fulani was this week questioned repeatedly about her background by the late Queen’s lady-in-waiting, Lady Susan Hussey, at a charity event at Buckingham Palace.
Fulani took to Twitter to share how stunned she was at the exchange, which saw Lady Susan - who is also godmother to Prince William - move Fulani’s hair aside to look at her name badge before asking where she was from.
The touching of the hair is already offensive, given the sacred connotations many cultures associate with one’s head. But that is another issue.
Lady Susan then asked her several questions, including: “Where do you really come from? Where do your people come from?”
It’s a question of validity - are you valid in this space? Do you belong here? You’re being asked to prove yourself.
When you’ve been asked this all your life, you come to recognise the tone of the question. You know straight off the bat if the person asking is genuine or not. You know if they’re being kind or unkind.
Another woman who was at the same Buckingham Palace event, Mandu Reid, saw the exchange between Lady Susan and Fulani and told the BBC it was “offensive, racist and unwelcoming”.
Lady Susan has since apologised and resigned in the aftermath of the incident; and a spokesman for Prince William said: “Racism has no place in our society”.
Which is, of course, completely true.
I once arrived at a media event and was standing at the table of name tags when I was approached and asked: “Where are you from?”
Before I could answer, the person who asked said: “Manukau Courier?”
I don’t think that’s racist, exactly. But I guess that’s a different sort of stereotype or mentality. Brown girl working in the media. Surely she’s from the hood.
Personally, those occasions have been rare, however. And I’m very proud of my heritage and background.
But if you ask me in that tone, I will answer to the point of almost explaining my family tree; remembering something my Dad once said - loosely translated, that it is sometimes very much necessary to answer a smart-arse question with a smart-arse answer.
It comes after case numbers spiked in May, June, July and again in September.