Jeannie Mai Quotes

I think of myself as being Jewish and Irish, despite the fact that I'm English.

I exist in this hyphen. I'm an Indian-American-Muslim kid, but am I more Indian, or am I more American? What part of my identity am I?

While I resonate deeply with my maternal cultural heritage, I identify as American.

I've always had a complex relationship towards my identity as an American.

I feel Anglo-American.

When I think of my work, I'm aware that I'm American and African at all points and times. And without a doubt, my experience and understanding of America was shaped by having immigrant parents.

Sometimes I have a very fleeting emotional dance with a fleeting phrase, like 'half-Mexican.'

It was very hard for me, for most of my life, to feel American, or call myself American, and that is a very complicated topic that would require a very long conversation.

I just grew up in the States, so I feel like I identify more with the American culture.

I pride myself on being Japanese American.

I'm about as Chinese as Herbert Hoover.

I'm black and Cuban, Australian and Irish, and like most people in America, I'm someone whose roots come from somewhere else. I'm a mixed race, first-generation American.

I always identified myself as non-Swedish. I was never discriminated against, because I looked Swedish and speak without an accent. But I had an outsider's perspective.

Am I Latin? Am I American? What the hell am I? I love my culture and I'm very proud of my culture.

There are some Chicanos who don't want to be Chicanos - they want to be Mexican-American, Hispanic, or even Spanish.

There's a big difference between race and culture. Because racially, I'm an Indian man. Culturally, not at all.

I don't necessarily feel like I'm American. I wouldn't know what that feels like.

Some call me a Cuban hyphen American. I reject that. I don't believe in hyphenated Americans.

My mother is French-Italian with a little Spanish blood in her. I've been raised, and she was, as far as I know, raised as a Christian.

Most of all, I dislike this idea nowadays that if you're a black person in America, then you must be called African-American. Listen, I've visited Africa, and I've got news for everyone: I'm not an African.

I come from an immigrant family, but I know no other nationality apart from British.

I was born in America, but I consider myself a Filipino.

It's a complicated issue, but I define myself as an American, primarily.

I don't know whether it is fortunate or unfortunate, but I have no such thing as national pride. I don't feel proud that I am Iranian. I happen to be who I am.

My identity is not based on performance; it's based on something that's pre-determined by someone else, and I don't even understand what that is because I'm an African who came to America.