The term “third world” is so strange. It was coined by a french anthropologist, to refer to countries that did not align, and were by extension, not directly involved, in the First and Second World Wars. The wars ended, the world became more interconnected, and despite much of contemporary politics happening on and around Asia, Africa and Latin America, we remain totally isolated. Third Worldism has been used to not only futher alienate our existences, but undermine our political histories, and silence our voices. What is the voice of the third world citizen? Third Native is my natural response. It’s partly a means through which I wish, and hope, to retell a story. 

The second motivation behind this name is a personal one, it speaks to the history of migration in my own family. The more I come to know my ancestors, the more I wish to honour their routes, pilgrimages, and journeys. I count myself as the third in a long lineage of women migrants. Starting with my grandmother, a woman of courage and determination, followed by my mother who has been a continuous inspiration since my very early years, and finally myself, as I stand humbly, learning, honouring, and sharing my story.

Photography by Malick Sidibé, courtesy of Artsy