Curaçaoan athletes are ‘Dutch’ when they win — but when we speak, teach, or build, we’re suddenly ‘foreign’, ‘not authentic’, or ‘not Curaçaoan enough’.
In recent weeks, a strange and painful debate has emerged on Curaçao: who is ‘Curaçaoan enough’ to speak about our own culture, language, and history?
A debate that serves no logic, no purpose, and no truth — and one that mirrors a familiar pattern: the same discriminatory logic the Netherlands has applied for decades, selectively and strategically.
The Netherlands decides when we are “Dutch.” And now some Curaçaoans are deciding when we are “Curaçaoan enough.” Both are colonial reflexes — both destructive.
Curaçaoan athletes? Then suddenly we are ‘Dutch’
When it comes to sports, all conversations about origin, authenticity, or “who belongs” vanish instantly.
And nowhere is that clearer than in athletics, baseball, and even coaching.
Athletics: Curaçao as the engine behind Dutch sprinting
Dutch athletics stands firmly on Curaçaoan shoulders: • Churandy Martina – born in Willemstad; Dutch record-holder (100m & 200m), European champion, Olympic finalist. • Liemarvin Bonevacia – born in Willemstad; Dutch record-holder (400m), multiple European medals. • Brian Mariano – born in Willemstad; represented the Netherlands in World Championships and Olympic relays.
When these men win? They become Dutch heroes. When they speak or express their identity? They become “foreign”.
Baseball: The Kingdom’s global stars are Curaçaoan
Baseball exposes the hypocrisy even more brutally: the world-class core of the Kingdom’s baseball talent comes from Curaçao and Aruba. • Andruw Jones – one of the greatest outfielders of his era. • Hensley “Bam-Bam” Meulens – Curaçao’s MLB pioneer; elite coach. • Kenley Jansen – MLB superstar, 400+ saves, one of history’s greatest closers. • Jurickson Profar – modern Curaçaoan MLB ambassador. • Jair Jurrjens – MLB All-Star, pillar of Team Netherlands. • Didi Gregorius – Yankees star with deep Curaçaoan heritage.
The Netherlands celebrates them loudly when they win — but when discussing culture or identity, they fall back into boxes like allochtoon or “not truly Dutch.”
Football: Even Dutch legends hold Curaçaoan roots
One of the Netherlands’ greatest footballers ever — Patrick Kluivert — is Curaçaoan on his mother’s side. His mother, Lidwina Kluivert, was born in Willemstad.
And in one of history’s most poetic returns, Patrick Kluivert later became head coach of the Curaçao national team, leading the island to unprecedented professionalization and international rise.
Dutch sports are built with Curaçaoan blood, talent, and leadership — but this rarely fits the narrative.
Yet in culture and language, we’re suddenly ‘not real’
The moment Curaçaoans excel in: • education, • history, • culture, • language, • scholarship, • or political thought…
the labels appear: • “not authentic” • “not Curaçaoan enough” • “not from here” • “foreign” • allochtoon
The same logic used in the Netherlands now imported into Curaçao — a tragic misstep.
Where this comes from: Dutch classification as policy
The Dutch state invented strict identity categories:
Autochtoon = both parents born in the Netherlands. Allochtoon = at least one parent born outside the Netherlands.
Result:
Children of Curaçaoan parents, even when born in the Netherlands, were officially not real Dutch people.
But once they produced medals or victories? Suddenly, their Curaçaoan identity became Dutch property.
This was never inconsistency — this was design.
Curaçao must not replicate these colonial hierarchies
We risk copying the same harmful logic. We hear people here saying that Curaçaoans who contribute internationally “aren’t Curaçaoan enough,” even when they: • speak Papiamentu, • live Curaçaoan culture, • excel globally, • contribute to our island, • and were invited by us.
This is exactly how discrimination works: the criteria shift depending on who is being judged.
The irony: rejected today, celebrated tomorrow
The youth we belittle today will be celebrated by the Netherlands tomorrow when they: • reach the Eredivisie, • appear in Oranje, • succeed in Europe, • or shine at the 2026 World Cup.
What is dismissed here becomes national pride there.
Time for realism — and self-respect
Being Curaçaoan is not determined by an address, a passport, or a Dutch bureaucratic label.
Being Curaçaoan means: • contributing, • connecting, • speaking our language, • embodying our culture, • loving this island, • and building its future.
Our children — even those born in the Netherlands — ARE Curaçaoans.
No Dutch category can alter that. No local insecurity can erase it.
The Netherlands struggles with classification
We don’t need to inherit that burden
Dutch classification systems remain intact. Discrimination in sports and culture persists.
But Curaçaoans are claiming their space. And rightly so. Now we must do the same — not by labelling one another, but by recognizing one another.
The Blue Wave reality!
Whoever speaks, teaches, builds, or serves Curaçao — is Curaçaoan.
Whoever wins for the Netherlands — is suddenly “Dutch.”
It’s time to end this double standard. In The Hague. And here at home.