Culture has always been very important to me. I suppose this fascination of culture stems from my once disjointed view of my own culture--my identity. My maternal lineage stems from a Haitian background. My maternal grandparents were born and raised in Haiti. I've always loved the stories my grandmother use to tell me; how she and her friends would climb coconut and mango trees for a sweet afternoon snack or swim in the nearby river, catching small fish. I've always been somewhat envious of the adventurous island-life culture, filled with delicious food and lasting memories. This was especially true because I felt like I didn't have a culture of my own.
My father was absent for most of my childhood and adolescent years. As a result, I always felt like a piece of who I was, was missing because I never really knew my paternal history--the other half of my culture [identity]. While most of my friends who had two parents of the same ethnicity, shared bits of their cultural background, I always felt empty-handed because I couldn't share as much. While, I am eternally grateful to my mom and family for raising me, it still felt like I knew only half of who I was.
Eventually as I got older, I realized I didn't need to know where my father came from, to know who I was. I soon realized I was neglecting the culture I did know about, wasting my time, trying to find information that may never be available. As a result, I began to appreciate my Haitian background more, especially the food! That is why, when I eat my favorite comfort food(s) kokoye blan diri ak griot ak sos pwa congo,I am reminded of my roots, of my culture, of me.
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thoughts at 4 am
Poetrythose random thoughts that keep you up at night as you toss and turn, putting up your fight
