Unresolved Identity

I realize the reason I’m smitten with other cultures because I feel lost in mind.

Bi-racial tends to only be recognized in america as White with Black

I’m indian, dutch, portugese, black….and everything in between that auntie so and so may whisper about in the next room out of my ear’s reach

How do I reconcile Diwali, Winter Solstice and Christmas?

How do I pass on Namaskar, Yo, What a gwan gyul and let’s go buss a lil wine at this fete coming up? As harsh as curry powder staining hands, yams with steamed fish, macaroni pie, doubles…how do I explain to my children urdu, trini slang, american english, english…and the culture of their father.

Do we loose a part of our identity with each generation? Is that why we are so disconnected from ourselves not only as races of people but as people? Is this why we don’t greet elders, our men don’t hold doors open, our children don’t say please and thank you…we’re assimilating in a country who’s cultures itself is an assimilation. Orators, our poets are lost in the wind, scattered, holding on to a dying craft that used to be revered. We have no stories. We have no dreams.

I will try my hardest to explain why there are tulsi trees planted in front of my grandparents house, why make pepperpot during christmas, why we make punch-a-creme. Why children suck it up and obey their parents even when they are older and know that they may not be right.


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