Commentary: A DNA test restored my lost African ancestry. Or so I thought

I'm a black American whose family has been here for centuries. And our country's "nation of immigrants" mantra has always rankled me a bit.

It implies that all the tired, poor, huddled masses landing on our shores came to America in search of better lives. That writes people like me out of the narrative, in a nation that benefited mightily from the unpaid labor of our ancestors.

My dark-skinned forebears didn't come here willingly. They were brought to America from Africa in chains; disposable commodities, enslaved then bought and sold like property. Their names were erased, their journeys basically untraceable.

I remember as a kid listening to my white classmates talk about their families' origins; they'd made their way to Cleveland from