Growing up on a reserve, I never felt like I fit in. A DNA test revealed the hidden truth

This First Person column is the experience of Linda Ewack, who lives in Regina. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.

Growing up in small-town Saskatchewan, I never fit in with the other kids and they were always sure to let me know it. 

If the lights were off, they would tell me to smile, mocking me about the contrast between my teeth and my dark skin. 

While I knew I was Indigenous on my mom's side, my skin was darker than other kids in my home reserve of Ocean Man First Nation. 

My mom had told me I was half-Black, but the only information she had on my biological father was that he had the nickname "Jimmy," and she figured he was Jamaican based on the friends he had kept.

I went to school in a small rural town where there weren't other Black kids. I was only exposed to negative stereotypes and attitudes toward Black people and Muslims, particularly in the wake of the Sept. 9, 2001 terrorist attack on the World Trade Centre.

Being Black wasn't a part of my identity that I embraced growing up. But neither was being Indigenous. For whatever reason, going to sweats and ceremonies didn't quite feel like it resonated with me when I was a child. That Indigenous identity was a big part of my mother's side of the family and the more I learned about Indigenous culture and ceremony, I grew to embrace that part of myself over time.

Still as loving as my mother was, I felt as if I wasn't worthy of anything because my father had just left me like I was nothing.

I could never have guessed that finding my African roots would help fill a hole in the adult me that binge-drinking and self-hatred had just kept tearing apart.

In December 2022, I took a DNA test through 23andMe, and the results turned my world upside-down. My partner recorded my reaction as I opened my phone to see the results and learned I was 49 per cent Ethiopian.

My first reaction was to laugh, as I realized my mom hadn't known much at all about my biological father. But then as I kept looking and learned I had a half-sister I had never known, my laughter turned to tears. 

Family has always been so important to me, and here I had a biological sister that I had missed knowing for years. 

This sister had been born in Regina but had since moved to Toronto. She had more information on our father, including his name, Jimale, but not his whereabouts.

While we were getting to know each other, I received a message from a distant cousin in the United Kingdom, who was connected to our father's side of the family.