Ask a D.C. Native: Who do you consider a D.C. native?

If you had asked me this question a decade ago, my inflexible response would have been: born in a D.C. hospital, raised in D.C., and graduated from a D.C. high school. For example, I was born at Georgetown Hospital, raised in River Terrace, and graduated from Friendship Collegiate Academy. And when I recently polled a dozen close friends and relatives who grew up here, they mostly had the same response: “born and raised in D.C.” 

But this is a hotly debated topic. D.C. natives are territorial, in a good way. We have so much pride in our city that we’re offended when people who clearly weren’t raised here (I’m looking at you Silver Springers and Alexandrians!), claim to be.

I grew up in D.C. during the 1990s and early 2000s — back when it was still dubbed Chocolate City. As a Black girl in that era, I had an innate love for myself, my people, and my community. There was a unique freedom to being young in the city; it nurtured curiosity, exploration, and a sense of wonder. But let’s be honest — D.C. was also the murder capital of the country, and far too often, it was the sound of gunshots, not bedtime stories, that sent me to sleep.

Of course, not every D.C. native shares the same story. The point is, we all have our own unique experiences, memories, and traditions that shaped our upbringings and perspectives on life. That’s why it can feel jarring when people casually claim to be D.C. natives without having lived through certain rites of passage.

I felt that giving my criteria for being a D.C. native without more contemplation would be irresponsible. So I sought wise counsel from a couple of fellow natives. Sabiyha Prince, an artist, filmmaker, and anthropologist, was born at Washington Hospital Center, grew up in Michigan Park, and attended Ruth K Webb, Bunker Hill Elementary, Bertie Backus Junior High, and St. Anthony Catholic School. Rhonda Henderson, an education advocate and co-creator of The Dap Project, was born at Columbia Hospital for Women, raised in Manor Park, and attended Bunker Hill and Brookland elementary schools, Alice Deal Middle School, and Benjamin Banneker High School. 

In two separate interviews, I asked the women a series of questions parsing out the nuances of being labeled a D.C. native. From these conversations, I composed a new definition for myself: a D.C. native is a person who spent their formative years — for as long as they can remember — living within the District’s borders, and they’re able to proudly rep at least one of the more than 130 neighborhoods in the city. 

That’s my bare minimum. Other details, like if you were born on District soil or if you attended D.C. schools, are debatable factors that can strengthen your case or add to the richness of your experience, but don’t necessarily disqualify you. 

Below is a combined transcript of my conversations, featuring the most insightful answers. It’s been edited for length and clarity.

What are your qualifiers for someone to be considered a D.C. native? 

Henderson: They were born in the District or spent a good deal of their formative years in the District. And when I say formative, I’m thinking of elementary school.

Prince: Just being from here. That’s what native normally means. I know there are people who come here when they're very young. If you came here when you were a little kid, sure that counts. I'm splitting hairs on this. I know some people are a little too reductionist, perhaps … or a little too absolute. 

I’m not absolute, but also words do have meaning. When you say that someone is a native from somewhere, then that means you're from there — in a basic sense. 

A lot of people talk about being born in the city. How much does that really matter? My son, for instance, was born at Holy Cross Hospital in Silver Spring, Md. but he was raised in River Terrace and Anacostia. Is he a D.C. native? 

Prince: My youngest was born in that same hospital, but she was raised in Columbia, Md. She’s not from Silver Spring by any measure. Just because you’re born in a hospital doesn’t mean anything. It’s where you’re raised. You’re born and raised. Where are you from? Nobody’s from a hospital, you’re just born in a hospital. That’s not your neighborhood. 

I think there are layers and levels to this. And sometimes, nuance is not our strongest suit as human beings. So we kind of want to pigeonhole people into where we feel they belong. 

When we talk about being raised in the city as a qualifier, is there a certain time or specific age during adolescence when you would have had to start living in the city? For instance, you were born in New York City, came to D.C. at three years old, and stayed until you were an adult. Are you a D.C. native? 

Prince: It’s got to be a part of your identity. This is where you are technically from … because how much memory do we have as young people? Usually, you start remembering stuff when you're around three, so you have no other sense. 

I think the more valuable question is: What does being from a place mean to people? How does that resonate? Being from Washington, D.C. differs from being from Brooklyn, New York, or from Philadelphia or Baltimore, which is just 30 miles north of here but still very different. 

That even has to be unpacked based on what part of D.C. you're from. What is your racial-ethnic background? What's your socioeconomic status, what's your neighborhood — all of those things are going to shape your experience of D.C. It is not one uniform thing. 

How important is it that people who identify as D.C. natives attend schools in the city? 

Henderson: ‘Where'd you go to high school?’ is the quintessential D.C. question. It’s how you can get to know somebody. For example, they went to Ellington — oh, this person is in art or a music person or maybe they performed in a band that you've heard of, or maybe they were a singer. Another example, he went to Dunbar — were you in the science and tech program or the engineering program? Oh, you went to Banneker — did you know so-and-so? Did you go to Wilson … were you in Teen Summit? So those are the kinds of experiences that if you went to a high school in D.C. you share with others. 

High school, in general, is a time in your life when you're really out exploring and getting to know people. So when friends tell me they went to school in D.C., but then transferred to a high school in Maryland, it sounds like they missed out on a formative experience [as a D.C. native]. 

For me, having the freedom to ride the Metro to school was another formative D.C. experience, compared to my cousins in Maryland who took the yellow bus to school. Do you agree? 

Henderson: It was a blast riding the subway and the bus and meeting up with your friends and seeing what's going on in the world. It was definitely a little bit of freedom that nobody could take away. 

You learn how to navigate around the city, and D.C. is an amazing city to explore — all the shopping, all the neighborhoods, all the places to hang out as a kid. And having the experience of riding some of the legendary buses in D.C. — the 70 bus was the one for people who were going up and down 7th street, or the X2. 

If you're a kid or a teenager riding these buses, you have observations. You see people and you see life that really shapes your perspective. I mean, you're 14 years old and you're seeing people, who now we know may have mental health issues, carrying on and having a really colorful conversation and cursing people out … they're having a fight or they're making out. They're playing cards. A lot of shit went down on the bus, and you’re taking it all in … that's giving you an education before you even got to school. 

But that's the kind of romanticized version. The other part of riding the bus to school is, of course, the downside of safety in that you don't have the protection of being picked up and dropped off door to door. When I was a kid, I didn't pay as much attention to it as a public health concern as I do now, having been an educational advocate for all these years. Now I really understand what our students are losing and the responsibility that we have as a city to invest heavily in safe passage.

People tend to conflate being a native of a place with being from there — even in this conversation. To me, “from” is a loose way to say someone is associated with a place or made an impact, but did not necessarily grow up there. In D.C., Marion Barry, who was born in Mississippi and raised in Memphis, Tennessee, is a good example. Do you consider him a D.C. native? 

Henderson: Marion Barry attended my graduation and, of course, gave me my first job. But Marion Barry was not raised in the District.  

He contributed much to the District and influenced D.C. culture, of course, because here we are saying Marion Barry gave me my first job. And that, too, is a stamp of an authentic D.C. experience. Did Marion Barry give you your first job? If not, that’s something that you have not experienced that tens of thousands of people in the city have. So, Marion Barry is not from here, he is of here.

Want to submit a question for this column? Email christinasturdivantsani@51st.news.