Quotes About Identity

We moved to Gambia from Sweden when I was six years old because my dad was from there. It was definitely a culture shock.

I don't think I'm ever going to get to the point where people run across a freeway to take a picture of me. I really don't see it getting to that level of hysteria unless I have an affair with the Queen of Sweden or something like that.

I came into this environment where there was so much love, so much positive energy. I never heard my parents say, 'We have adopted kids.' The minute my sister Linda and I landed in Sweden, we were their kids.

Sweden is a great country. What is not so great is that we have a society that, in a way, says it's great if you don't look right, if you don't look left, if you just look straight forward.

The richness of America is that we are diverse. We're not Sweden. We're not Norway. We are a great American experiment. And as soon as we start trying to forget race or turn our back on race, number one, we don't confront the real racial realities that still persist.

Migrants who set off for Europe don't want to go to Bulgaria or Hungary. They want to go to Germany, Austria, or Sweden.

We have a huge immigration population in Sweden, but when I was younger, I grew up in a small town and, at one point, I was the only foreigner in my class. I really felt different, and I thought I looked different. Sometimes it was a good thing, sometimes I felt insecure.

My roles for Arsenal and Sweden are very different.

In Sweden I am considered the Finnish-Norwegian, in Norway Finnish-Swedish, and in Finland Swedish-Norwegian. I've never really belonged anywhere.

My dad is from Japanese descent, my mom is from Swedish descent and, through marriages and divorces, a pretty multicultural family - a lot of Spanish speakers in the family.

My Finnish, it never really happened, but I'm good in Swedish.

Every time I'm in Canada I feel more Swedish, and every time I'm in Sweden I feel more Canadian. I belong in both places and I love them both equally. It's funny because the Swedes claim me as their Swedish pride and the Canadians call me their Canadian girl. I'll take it all.

My parents were both from extremely different backgrounds. My father's Italian, my mother was of Swedish descent. They're both first-generation Americans.

If there is a Swedish style, I cannot identify it.

One of the big things for me that's been exciting is seeing the Asian-American community coming out, because I'm Filipino and Swedish and Irish.

I speak English with my dad and Swedish with my mom; it's quite schizophrenic.

I speak Swedish, it's my first language. Of course, growing up with Latin American parents from Argentina, I also have some other influences from other cultures. But Sweden is where I feel the most at home.

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.

I was a Swedish guy who listened to Too Short.

Anybody that's ever been to Israel and to Palestine knows that you can't look at a person and tell if they're Israeli or Palestinian. You can assume. But I've seen Palestinians who look Swedish, and I've seen Israelis who are black.

I think a lot of American fans or people that read about us - they think that we're trying to be a part of the American culture, like all these Swedish kids that love America. We rap in English, so I guess there's something, but we're very Swedish, actually.

It's not lost on me that I'm a Swedish guy from one of the coldest countries in the world.

I'm Swedish. Sweden is known for its melancholia.

I have both Swedish and Iranian cultures ingrained in me, so that's always there. Plus my love of the U.S. began early on. But growing up in Sweden as one of the few people of color around was not easy by any means.