Waters of Pain

Remigrant (My Parents)

I forgive my parents for a lot
but there is one mistake I have not forgot
The day that we moved to America

One day I hope (like they hoped)
To find out the reason why
They left our isle
To go to America
If not, would my mother have been a doctor (a real one)
Not a rehab aid
Would my father have been a lawyer (a real one)
Not a corporate slave

Would I have had friends (real ones)
Not white ones
Who they didn't fear
Would corrupt me
With sleepovers and trick or treat
Maybe I would have friends (any at all)
Not the kids from the laundromat
Or the ones in my head who followed me around
As we moved our way down the East Coast
Looking for whatever it was you were looking for
Obviously not what I was looking for
Because I just wanted a home

Maybe our house would have had heat
(Sorry not our house)
Uncle Elliot's basement (it's rent free)
Maybe we wouldn't have avoided hospitals, nosy schools and police
I'm angry now
Why would you do that to me then just give up
Did you think it was going to be easy
Were you depending on luck
Maybe you just had faith that I'd be okay
Grow up strong no matter how things would change
Maybe I would have
If you had been strong enough to stay

We're going you said
Things just haven't worked out you said
We don't want you to grow up as the poor kid Anymore
They said
I already have
I said

I want to ask Mom why did you do this
But I'm afraid it will only hurt
Her and me
Because maybe she had dreams
Beyond that tropical sea
Unrealized and unseen
But what was her dream?
In that silver city where she was no one
Now we're back, we're 'home'
And she's become someone
The someone she used to be on the phone
With her old friends when she was alone
But now she's not the same person that I used To know

The someone I used to know
She 'roughed it' in rat ridden apartments
Now she turns a head at anything less than perfection
From my father and me
This woman is living the 'Guyanese Dream' (it seems)
When she leaves
To go to the fancy new job she picked up
From family and friends who tell her she never should have left
Now we still live in basements
Of those same family and friends
But the facade remains
Until she until she remembers
They will always have
A decade's worth more
Of Guyanese progress

Me, I'm just happy to a have room
To ruminate in
As I keep reminding myself I'm not American
I'm Guyanese
I'm Guyanese
I say
Maybe if I repeat, I'll get it through my head
I'll start to believe it
I'm Guyanese
I'm Guyanese
That means I'll eat their food (what is it?)
And make friends with people who exclude me
For (almost) living the life of their dreams
(The American Dream)

I wish I could have pretended to just be Guyanese
But I didn't even know enough
To pretend to be anything other than me
I'll hide that American accent
Say zed instead of z
Exchange yankee for creolese
I tried to be defiant
But then I finally got it
I have no claim
No birth certificate to prove it
Only memories to remember it
And people to remind me I should have always Been here

That's my fault somehow
That I haven't been here
Now I have to spend the rest of my childhood
Trying to correct that mistake
Learning the culture, learning their ways
A forced education
Listening to them say
"Fit in, fit in"
Don't be a brat
Spoiled 'American' brat
Just be like everyone else (yes they actually said that)

They blamed me for loving America
Laughed at me behind my back
Or maybe just pitied me
Said I needed to embrace change
Now I don't love America
I hate it (I guess that's what they wanted)
For what it's done to me
How it churned me up and chucked me out and never looked South
Given the choice I wouldn't go back

And now that's what they want
Because now it's a good thing
A good story, a unique experience
Great for college essays
Yes they're trying to send me away
For college
To repeat their mistakes?
No, I think I'll stay
Collect my subpar education and fade away
Maybe become a Guyanese 'millionaire'
Almost a step above American medium wage
After all isn't that what they wanted
I'm living life
The Guyanese way

(Migration
I hate it
Culture
I loathe it
Failed Immigration
Understand it)

Guyanese American

M. White