I have thought about this for decades, which is why I wanted very much to read your story. I am 72, born in New York City, and have lived in this country my whole life, with the exception of volunteer assignments that I have experienced in Mauritania, Ghana, India, and South Africa, a total of more than two and a half years.

I have recently written about this extensively, in a piece too long to share on Medium, but the bottom line, for me, is that I am an atypical American. I find that it is best to leave that as a conclusion, rather than saying I don’t know how to be an American. More like I don’t know how to be your average and typical American.

So many things mark be as being different from the overwhelming majority of the people in this country: I do not go for cartoons, fantasy movies, or anything Disney. I prize cooperation over competition, so sports and award shows are meaningless to me. I accept other people’s cultures without that tired “America is the best country in the world” trope. I don’t practice a religion. I don’t care about birthdays. I don’t worship celebrities. I am a vegetarian. I live my life without a car. I don’t care about fashion. I am gay. Add that up, and you get a very atypical person in this country.

Be who you want to be. Don’t let the labels of others define you.

• * * * *

One thing that threw me off: At the end of the second paragraph, you wrote:

my father has called me “His little New Yorker.”

With those four words in the quotation marks, it sounds like your father is talking about another man, if he is saying the word “His,” as you indicate. Unless he is referring to himself in the third person, which is possible but not probably. My guess is that you meant that your father has called you “my little New Yorker.”