Redefining What It Means To Be Liberian
Back in January, I met a man at an event, and during our conversation, something interesting came up that made me deeply reflect on the identity crisis among Liberians. The man, an older Liberian—let’s call him John (not his real name for privacy)—asked me how old I was when I came to the U.S. I told him I was two years old.
His response caught me off guard. He said, “You’re not Liberian.”
Surprised, I asked, “How come?”
He replied, “Because you didn’t struggle.”
I paused for a moment, letting his words settle in my mind. Then, almost instinctively, I repeated them—not because I agreed, but because I was struck by how wrong they sounded. “So I’m not Liberian because I didn’t struggle?” I was processing the weight of what he had just said. It wasn’t until I got home that the full depth of his statement truly hit me.
John’s words revealed something profound—Liberians, particularly the older generation, have internalized struggle as a core part of their identity. Poverty, hardship, and suffering have become the markers of being Liberian. If you haven’t endured these, in their eyes, you don’t fully belong. That realization unsettled me.
Fortunately, I am grateful that I didn’t have to go through the struggle—but that doesn’t make me any less Liberian. Some may argue that struggle builds resilience, and while that can be true, there’s a difference between overcoming challenges and normalizing hardship as an identity. When struggle becomes self-inflicted—when it is accepted as the only way of life—it paralyzes progress. It conditions people to believe they are incapable of rising beyond their circumstances, trapping them in a cycle of limitation rather than empowerment.
My conversation with John made me realize that we, as Liberians, need to reshape our identity because what we believe about ourselves shapes our reality. Why is it that other cultures proudly associate themselves with wealth and success, while Africans are expected to identify with poverty and struggle?
In 1 Peter 2:9, God says, “But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people…”
We are a nation that is set apart. But along the way, we have neglected our God-given identity and submitted to the lies of our adversaries. Liberia should be a nation that drives progress—building wealth through innovation and creating opportunities that uplift our people. From this moment forward, I want to see more Liberians launching global brands, building thriving companies, dominating industries, and creating generational wealth.
It’s time to redefine what it means to be Liberian.
