I know where I come from. I know it so much it causes aches and pains. Do I identify as Québécoise? No. I’m an Ethiopian Jew. The mainstream images of Jews are made up of Eastern Europeans, so people are always surprised. Physically I am here because I was born and raised in Montreal, but my roots, my traditions, my dance, my braids, my skin, come from far away. Quebecers are always happy to hear me speak in French, meanwhile, my mother’s tongue is lost to me. They’re relieved to hear my frustrations towards my motherland. They’re confused about my longing for it. When asked if I am “guilty” or not of any Black stereotypes. I say I’m guilty of all. I’m reminded of how my African history has shaped me. I can feel my ancestors here with me now. There is power in knowing where you come from at a young age. The Black Lives Matter movement affirms that my blackness should not put my life at risk. My blackness should not erase my humanity. I am so grateful to the Black communities who’ve arrived in Quebec before my family. You did the work for your family’s survival and for others such as myself. Yet I’m unable to name any of you. I did not learn about a single Black leader from Quebec in elementary, high school, or CEGEP. I may not know you by name, but I know you deeply. Ancestors erased from history books leave behind a permanent mark on their children. I love Montreal dearly, this city has cradled me time and time again, but all I want is to go to my community. I will cross everything and anything to be with my people again. NEVER FORGET THE POWER OF KNOWING WHERE YOU COME FROM!