I'm thankful to be a mixed racial person in skateboarding. I'm

Hear the words of Nyjah Huston, master of the board and child of many worlds: “I’m thankful to be a mixed racial person in skateboarding. I’m part Japanese too, so when I go over to Japan everyone loves me there, when I go somewhere where there are a lot of Black people they’ll love me there too.” In these words lies not only the story of one athlete, but the eternal truth of identity: that the blending of roots can be a bridge, not a division, and that to belong in more than one place is a blessing rather than a curse.

The ancients knew well the power of those who stood at the crossroads of cultures. Alexander the Great, son of Macedonia and pupil of Greece, became a unifier of East and West, dreaming of a world where peoples would not be divided but bound together. So too does Nyjah’s confession remind us that to be of mixed heritage is to carry within oneself the harmony of many voices. It is to embody unity in a fractured world. His thankfulness is a hymn to this gift: he does not see division in his blood, but connection.

To walk with more than one heritage is to walk as both guest and kin wherever you go. Nyjah declares that in Japan he is embraced for his Japanese blood, and among Black communities he is loved for the other half of his lineage. What others may see as fragmentation, he has chosen to see as abundance. His voice is not of complaint but of gratitude, and in that choice lies wisdom. For identity is not merely what we are born into, but how we receive and carry it. To carry it with thankfulness transforms it into strength.

Consider the story of Frederick Douglass, who though born into the cruel bondage of slavery, became a bridge between the enslaved and the free, between Black America and the conscience of the world. His voice belonged to many worlds, and through it he awakened justice. So too does Nyjah’s presence in skateboarding—a global community—become a symbol of connection. For in his body and his spirit, different peoples see themselves reflected, and in him, walls fall.

There is heroism in his words, for it is easy to let difference become a burden, to say, “I belong nowhere.” But Nyjah turns it instead into a song of belonging: “I am loved in both places.” This is the way of the wise, who see not scarcity but abundance, not rejection but acceptance. His gratitude reminds us that identity, when embraced, becomes a bridge that unites rather than a border that divides.

The origin of this wisdom lies in the human longing for belonging. All people hunger to be seen and embraced. For one of mixed heritage, this longing can seem doubly heavy. Yet Nyjah’s words proclaim victory over this burden: he is at home in many lands, welcomed by many arms. The ancients would have seen this as a divine blessing, the mark of one chosen to carry the message of unity in a divided age.

The lesson is plain: honor the fullness of who you are. If you carry more than one heritage, do not treat it as conflict within yourself, but as treasure. If you belong to one people, open your arms to those who belong to many, for they are living bridges between nations. Be thankful for the places you are welcomed, and do not focus only on the doors closed to you. Walk as Nyjah does, with gratitude, and you will find that the world is larger and kinder than it first appears.

Practical wisdom calls to you: learn your roots, honor your ancestors, and share your story with others. Do not hide your heritage nor apologize for it—speak of it with thankfulness and pride. Wherever you are embraced, respond with love and generosity. And remember always: your identity, however complex, is not a weakness but a strength. In embracing it, you become what Nyjah Huston has shown us—a living proof that the world can be one.