It means being a global citizen.

Getting your braids done at the crack of dawn by the aunties in Harlem – before linking your homies on the parkway for the West Indian day parade.

It’s being from Atlanta but knowing Chicken Yassa from any Senegalese spot is going to bang.

It’s not understanding the lyrics to a song but still singing all the words.

Having no roots in the Islands, but still smiling when the yardies on the block call you “Empress!”

It’s only knowing what “balege!” means because you’ve heard your Ethiopian homegirl’s mom say it over and over.

Hearing “morena” whispered like a limitation, but wearing it like a crown instead.

It’s knowing that - though we’re all different, we’re still one.