On Labels, Identity, and Respect: Reflections from a Multicultural Perspective

By Viveca Karima Viso

As someone with a multicultural background — half Swedish, half Spanish, with summers spent in Ceuta and family living in Northern Morocco, Andalucia Spain "Entre dos aguas", and Sweden — I’ve spent much of my life reflecting on how to fit in, how to label myself and others, and why... 

Growing up surrounded by diverse cultures and identities has been both a privilege and a learning experience. It has shown me the beauty of diversity but also how labels, while often well-meaning, can sometimes divide instead of unify.

Living at the Crossroads of Cultures, "Entre dos Aguas"

Being perceived through the lens of others' assumptions has been a recurring experience for me. 

For example, I’ve often been mislabeled as Latina due to me speaking Spanish and my Spanish heritage. 

While I understand the intention, this label is not accurate. Spain was a colonizer, and the term Latina/Latino/Latinx is rooted in the experiences of the peoples of Latin America — home to a rich tapestry of Indigenous, African, and European-descended populations, shaped by centuries of complex histories.

In Latin America, Spanish and Portuguese are spoken because of colonization by Spain and Portugal, but the identities and experiences there are uniquely Latin American. The term Latina is not just about language; it’s about history, culture, and lived experience. It has also been reclaimed as a unifying identity, reflecting resilience and pride for many.

I deeply respect the significance of this identity, which is why I clarify that, as someone of Spanish descent, I am not Latina.

Similarly, my Arabic name and my family’s long-standing connection to Morocco have sometimes led others to assume I’m Moroccan.

While Moroccan culture has greatly enriched my life — through my upbringing, my children’s godmother, and friendships spanning decades — I am not Moroccan.

In fact, depending on whom I meet, I’ve been labeled everything from Serbian to Middle Eastern. Each assumption reflects the biases or gaps in understanding that people bring to the table. These experiences have taught me that labels, when used without knowledge or care, can flatten identities, erasing nuance and individuality.

 Respecting the Stories Behind Labels 

This personal journey has made me acutely aware of the importance of respecting how people choose to identify themselves. Labels are not interchangeable. Just as there are profound differences between Spanish and Latin American identities, there are vast distinctions among Arabic speakers from Morocco, Egypt, or the Gulf.

These distinctions matter because they reflect histories, cultures, and lived realities. When we homogenize identities, we risk perpetuating harm — unintentionally repeating the dynamics of domination that many communities have worked hard to overcome.

Take, for instance, the term Black. For people of African descent, especially within the diaspora, it represents a powerful identity rooted in shared histories of oppression, resilience, and pride. Yet, within this community, the intersections of race, culture, and geography create diverse experiences that deserve acknowledgment. People often confuse nationality, ethnicity, and race, treating them as interchangable when they represent distinct aspects of identity. Terms like Latina, Black, or Arab carry profound cultural and historical weight. To use them without understanding their meaning is to risk misunderstanding or causing harm. 

 A Call to Learn, Listen, and Respect 

As someone from former colonial powers — including Sweden — I have come to understand how important it is to tread carefully when discussing identity. Educating ourselves about the histories tied to these labels is not just a responsibility; it’s an act of respect.

Using accurate and thoughtful language is more than semantics. It’s about honoring identity, acknowledging history, and fostering deeper connections. It’s a way to show that we see and value the complexities that make up each person’s story.

So, I ask: How can we better educate ourselves and others to ensure that our words reflect the respect we wish to convey? 

Perhaps it begins with listening, with humility, and with a commitment to understanding the rich stories behind every label.

What are your thoughts? 

How do you navigate the complexities of cultural and racial identity?

As someone with dyslexia myself, I’ve found that small changes can make a big difference when it comes to reading. In this text, I’ve highlighted the first letters and certain words to serve as visual cues. This technique aims to make word recognition and processing easier, which can help improve reading speed and comprehension. It’s a method I use personally, and I hope it can offer support to others who might face similar challenges.