Honestly, I had an issue with being called Trinidadian when I was a little child. I never considered myself to be one. I was born in America and these were the ways I knew. I didn’t fully accept it until I was 19. When I went to Trinidad in 2012 after a ten hiatus, I felt at peace. Regardless of the poverty stricken communities.
Pretty sure every teenager alive goes through some sort of identity crisis. We think we know it all when we really don’t. Too white to be black, too black to be white. One day I’m handsome, the next day I might as well have a gas mask on my face. Biggest posers on the planet. I took on a range of personalities: the rapper, the nerd, the whiz, the smart ass & the carribean guy. Noticed something towards the end of my school years. The classmates that really accepted me for who I was, the good and the bad had a Caribbean background or their families did. Fellow Trinidad, Jamaica, St. Lucia, Guyana, Grenada..Puerto Rico..Dominican Republic. Guess it just staring into the mirror. Now matter how far I come or how much success I have, I am a representation of generations past, present and future.
My extended family that’s in Trinidad cares about my well being way more than the extended family living in the states. Isn’t that the saddest thing ever? Maybe it my ego talking here..I remember saying this in my posting about my aunt, Cheryl-Ann. Way more love shown to me in Trinidad than here. Even in pictures past, they were more smiles there also.
Pic used? Probably from when I was 2 or 3 years of age. My other aunt, Antoinette, found it and sent it to me through WhatsApp. At ease..such peace..