Amani Saeed
What’s your full name?
Amani Zarrin Saeed.
How old are you?
23.
Where were you born/brought up?
I was born in London and raised in the US.
What do you do for a living?
I’m a spoken word artist.
What’s your ethnicity?
I’m mixed Indian/Iraqi.
How did your mum and dad meet?
They met in a completely boring way: at work. He was apparently the one all the women in the office fancied, but he was also known for being a jerk. He took an interest in my mum (who was, and still is, fabulous, funny, and beautiful) and cleaned up his act. It’s a bit Bollywood, really.
Describe your most memorable moments when you were made aware of being mixed race.
There hasn’t been one memorable moment, really. It’s just been the cumulative pile-up of people trying to guess where I’m from—there’s been everything, Latina, Middle Eastern, Vietnamese (?!), every country in South Asia, part white. At some point in the guessing game, I clocked I was an ethic mess.
Do you feel your parents prepared you for life as a mixed race person?
Not really. It never came up in conversation.
What ignorant comments have you heard about being mixed-race that really rile you?
That mixed-race people will solve racism. It just isn’t true. Until white supremacy is no longer a viable ideology, people who have any kind of colour in them will always be eschewed in this country.
What do you wish people who aren’t mixed-race understood?
That not all of our babies will be cute.
Do you think mixed race people/families are well represented in the media?
I think we’re getting better at it. I can choose not to watch or engage with things that don’t represent a diversity of appearances, and it’s no longer acceptable for advertisers to only show conventionally attractive, thin white women. I’m so tired of watching white people play across my screen like they represent me. We have options now—I can watch House of Cards, or I can watch Sense8, you know?
Is being mixed race a burden or a blessing for you?
Both. It’s a blessing and a burden to look like you fit everywhere, but sometimes feel like you belong nowhere. You get a shallow connection with many, but a deep connection with only a few.
Have you felt a struggle with your identity? If so, how did you deal with it and if you are now at peace with who you are, how did you come to a place of self-acceptance?
My mixed identity blends quite seamlessly. The South Asia and the Middle East share a common major religion and have heavily influenced each other throughout history, so I haven’t had much to reconcile culturally. Because of this, I’ve been lucky in that I’ve never felt I’ve had to pick a side or struggle to bring together the parts of my ethnic identity. Where I do feel friction is when my identity is pitted against whiteness. Then it’s about being a coconut, or not knowing my mother tongue, or being able to cook my food, or being ‘too Western.’ This is frustrating because I subscribe to Paul Gilroy’s idea of roots v routes, or of embracing your hybridity rather than longing to rewind a cassette tape and return to an identity, a home, that isn’t really yours. It’s nostalgia for a different generation, a different time, and I’d prefer to live in the here and now. I don’t have another choice.
What advice would you give to your younger self?
Don’t be ashamed of being loud. You have a lot to say, so say it boldly, because you and your words matter.