What I Am Made Of

Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, W.I.

I have been told that I'm neglecting a part of me. I have been neglecting something "that I am made of." I was born to an immigrant mother and father making me first generation American. My biological father wasn't around while I was growing up. I had a father figure who wasn't the best but did just enough to leave an impression. My mother flew from Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, West Indies in 1977 embarking on something different. I was born 10 years later to her and my two older brothers. Her background is my heritage. My grandmother was born in Saint Vincent and her grandmother hailed from Calcutta, India.

I always have been enticed for fighting for the equal treatment of my race, gender and to all inequality. Most of my essays are about fighting the good fight and living as a cohesive unity of people. A good friend of mine, who is of Indian descent via the South American country of Guyana, always seems to point out my non-acknowledgment of my Indian heritage. Maybe I have been a little shortsighted and only focused on my Blackness but I know that in order for me to know my truth I must fight for all of me.

Calcutta (Kolkata), India

Calcutta or Kolkata is the capital of West Bengal in India. It is a world in itself. It is the center of East India and home to 4.5 million people. The first record of the history of Calcutta is from 1690. Calcutta seemed to always have been the business center of East Indian because it is where most trading went on. The richness of the city has rooted it as a metropolis.With the rise of invasions and occupying of land in the 1850's, Calcutta was split in two: Black Town and White Town. Black Town housed Indians and of course Blacks while White Town consisted of the invader British. Already industrious and business-centered, there was a boom in industrial growth and natural resource causing the British to invest in the city's continued growth. Eventually Calcutta became the center of the fight for independence from any type of foreign rule. 

After the city's victory of it's independence it began to flourish and maintain on its own. During World War II the city was bombed by the Japanese causing grave damage to the city's infrastructure. This lead to the downhill factors of living during the time. Millions of people starved to death and thousands killed from the tug-of-war of power between people who craved solitary rule. Calcutta was dubbed, "the dying city," during its time of despair. The people there were resilient though. The city would become a base for Indian communism and build from within its walls. 

I don't know when my great-great grandmother left Calcutta and ventured to the West Indian island of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines. Her family had a reason for the move and so is life. In Saint Vincent a young woman of Indian descent started her life and had children. One of her daughters will eventually give birth to my mother. My mother spent her childhood and part of her adulthood around contact of her lineage. She was able to listen to the stories and the wisdom that comes with age. I have passed down tales and actual moments from vague memories. Even with the little information, I wouldn't trade knowing something for anything in the world. 

One day while working, an Ethiopian woman asked me if was Ethiopian and of course I said no. Coincidence is a crazy thing and that moment stuck on my mind. I told my mother of the incident and she would go on to tell me Indians migrated to Ethiopia. This new information made me wonder just what else is my truth. There will always be so much to learn when it comes to an individual's history, we just have to accept that we didn't get here alone. Our ancestors went through worse conditions than we did because of the lack of technology and advanced knowledge but they knew how to survive and maintain.       

Here I am writing about what I am made of. This is me writing about a part of me that I have neglected over time. It isn't to appease my friend but to come to terms with my truth. In order to know who you are truly you must embrace every part of you. I'm sure there is more to the lineage but this is one that is still with me to this day. Eventually the blood will dilute, the lineage would get further away and each new generation will forget.

Never be afraid to embrace who you are. It is important to know your history. Be the representative of "what you are made of."

Black Feminism

Feminism as a whole is denounced. Black feminism shouldn’t exist. The latter sentiment is implied to the youth. To be a woman in America today is to be the same second class citizen of yesterday. We have shattered glass ceilings only to have them replaced with something stronger. The challenge is to show strength in numbers, unite and overpower the oppressors. Women have been conditioned to oppose unity and engage in like-minded separation. Audre Lorde wrote, “Without community there is no liberation.” The outlook of solidarity is usually met with non-compliance and impatience. What do we, as women, have to do in order to build an indestructible community?

There are so many factors that can cloud reality such as the capitalistic patriarchy, sexual glorification, watered down educational systems and oppressive propaganda. We need solutions with the hopes of a gradual change. This collectiveness is deemed dangerous and powerful so there are large obstacles to repress it. Women are enticed by what a man can do for them or the need to be independent. Places of employment are dismissing the strength of the matriarchy for the male norm. The evolution of the term, bitch, is used to describe a goal-oriented, motivated woman who exudes the same strengths of her male counterparts. Feminism is treated like profanity and plasters a look of disgust on faces. What can we change about this stigma? These questions come to me as I think of solutions. Questions lead to undiscovered answers and more queries.

Black feminism has a place among other civil rights issues. Religion plays a major role within the Black community. In church, women are told to be submissive and take care of the family. The men provide stability and leadership. Although the majority of Black households are single-parent homes, the woman is left to play both roles. Women cannot teach sons to be a man. Women can only teach a man to respect women. As for raising daughters to become successful and productive beings to society, women have to be positive role models. There are many obstacles raising daughters, the role of woman has become broader. Daughters have to learn the same lessons as sons.

Men tend to have more solidarity among themselves than women. A sisterhood is deemed intimidating. Women are inclined to be combative and steamroll over the weaker link. In some cases women in power have the “look-down” effect. In such “effect” women assume to the role of oppressor. Men from the other countries don’t care for the independence of American women. In a discussion with a male Haitian immigrant, he believed women needed managers. This man believed women weren’t capable of a maintaining a household on their own. His interactions with American women gave him reservations. Women are now seen as competition but inexperienced and unskilled workers. The strength of capable women workers are often dismissed because men are apt to cling to old ideas of gender standards.

Black women have an aggressive prejudice about them that men and other women preconceive. It is as if Black women are emotionless, cold, and heartless human beings. We are all made from the same genetic makeup thus we have emotions. We may not show our emotion publicly but behind closed doors our knees are rug-burned from countless prayers to God. Our eyes are desert dry because of the tears we shed every time our children leave the house. Our backs are hunched from working all day then having to take care of the household. Our pride is tucked in our bras because we have to show the children that being tired doesn’t exist.

Black feminism doesn’t seem to exist because it is eclipsed by the prejudice of aggression of the black woman. Unity between women of color is the elephant in the room of the White feminist. It seems we aren’t woman enough to unite against issues that affect the gender as a whole. We are already born with the stacks against us because we are black women. As black women we need to show that we can come together and fight for a cause. We have to magnify our humanity. Once we are given a platform we must shine brighter than the cameras.

There are a plethora of educated black women who can educate poor women of color to see that they are worth more than their environment. There is a world out there yet to be discovered because of glorified ignorance. The media has an absurd amount of effects on the minds of young women of color. We have to storm the gates of the media and flood it with the positive image of women.

We must learn to put differences and attitudes aside in order to uplift each other. Our unity shouldn’t be defined by affiliation or community. Feminist unity should be defined as a culture. We are a culture of women of color who have to merge as a whole to become an indestructible force.