Lucas Amaral

Walking through the crowded streets of São Paulo, Brazil, I often feel the weight of stories buried beneath the concrete. This city is a living mosaic of histories—some told, many forgotten. I used to think my own story was straightforward, just another blend of Brazil’s countless cultures. That was before I learned who my father was.

Finding out so late cracked open a door I didn’t know existed. My parents' backgrounds alone held a mix of ethnicities that fascinated me, but it wasn’t enough. Curiosity led me to take a DNA test, hoping to uncover more about where I came from. I imagined distant relatives, rich traditions, maybe even something to feel proud of.

But I wasn’t prepared for what I found. Buried in the results was the trace of an ancestor who fled to Brazil long ago, leaving behind a dark past. The records were vague—mentions of crimes, of betrayal—but the details were unsettling enough. I regretted digging so deep, yet I couldn’t stop. It was as if learning about him had lit a fire I couldn’t put out.

That’s part of why I study ethnology and social sciences now. Brazil, especially São Paulo, is a crossroads of identities. People have been coming here for centuries—some escaping war, others fleeing poverty. Many were forced here through slavery, and others arrived under the grip of colonization. And then there were people like my ancestor, running from something darker and personal. I started searching through old archives, studying how people changed names and histories to disappear. I wondered if he had done the same, blending into the noise of this massive city.

Sometimes, I catch myself wondering if pieces of him live in me. Is that even possible? Or am I just letting the past mess with my head?

But I’ve come to understand that the past doesn’t define me. It’s part of me, sure, but it’s not everything. My ancestor ran from his story. I won’t.

In São Paulo, the past and present are tangled together. Maybe that’s why I feel so connected to this city. Like it, I carry both light and shadow—and maybe that’s enough.