Dear Jamaica,
Just a forewarning: this letter may sound like I’m bashing Jamaica, but I want to assure you that this is the last thing on my mind. No matter how Jamaica and its inhabitants/peoples think about me, I love my culture, I love my people and I love my blackness. However, this love does not extend to the massive industry of murda music Jamaica produces against my sexuality, or the hypermasculinity Jamaican men extend onto themselves, their friends, and even their lovers, and this love does not extend into the Jamaican ego and overconfidence that I’ve seen many of my family members push onto other Caribbean countries.
I’m a 17 year old third-generation American who identifies as a gay, black male. (I say I identify as black because of my personal experience with my blackness in which I didn’t identify as black in my youth.) My family is all Jamaican, but my mother’s side has Chinese lineage and my father’s side has Indian heritage- both peoples are heavily dispersed in Jamaica, which has created a melting-pot effect that impacts both our culture and our crisis. (I will explain more in detail in this letter.) I lived in Jamaica as a toddler and went to middle school in Jamaica. I came out in Jamaica and was bullied and fought because of it. I experienced domestic violence in Jamaica. I hated Jamaica while in Jamaica.
But when I came back to America, I missed my country. At first, I never understood why- after all, the economy is terrible, potholes riddle the roads, robberies are common and I’ve seen dead bodies on the drive from Kingston to Montego Bay. But I realized I missed the things I had in Jamaica. I missed my dog, Milo, and I missed my grandparents. I missed the family business I camped out in frequently. I missed my aunt and her condos. I missed the beach.
But Jamaica taught me not to love myself. For instance, there’s a lot of European people who run Jamaica’s business enterprises, and it was one of these men that dated my aunt that referred to me as an Oreo for the first time. It was here that I learned that my attraction to men was called “homosexuality” and, while I’d done my research on Jamaica, was so naïve I thought “Oh, it’s 2010, this sh-t is old” and came out in my school only to be jumped by over 6 schoolmates and bullied/ostracized. Jamaican taught me that because I didn’t have large muscles or a cocky swagger I was a wuss. Jamaica taught me that if I didn’t like dancehall or patties that I was strange. Jamaica taught me the process of living in a box.
I think when it comes to Jamaica, we have to remember our history in order to understand why we are who we are now. Jamaica was a slave country taken over by the Spanish and tossed back into the U.K.’s hands after a bloody battle, only to deal with ANOTHER war against Jamaican people, referred to as the “Maroons”. We took what we had and grew from nothing but green banana and yam (cultural joke). It would be a lie to say that I don’t understand where Jamaica’s hypermasulinity and homophobia come from – intense slave-time training for profit in the auctions and fear-instilling in order for the white plantation owners to maintain control of the black people. When the Chinese and Indian came as indentured laborers, tension ensued, which led to the hierarchy of European resort owners to Chinese/Indian/Middle Eastern business owners to Jamaican commonfolk.
But we cannot use these as excuses, Jamaica. I will not stand for this separation of the bloods that run through my body. I remember vividly being in Sangster’s bookstore with my father as he yelled at a Middle Eastern clerk and called her a “sand nigger”. When I asked him about it later, he shrugged and told me “It’s not like they don’t call us niggers.” I was baffled. I was hurt. I was so confused. My father has Indian lineage and here he is calling other South Asian people sand niggers? Another big issue I remember having was when my mother’s side of the family was talking about the Olympics (Usain Bolt) and they insulted other Caribbean countries. So maybe it wasn’t a big deal to us, but hearing my family talk about the other Caribs as “Jamaica wannabees” who claim Jamaican lineage because “Jamaica is the only known/famous/popular Caribbean country,” I was thoroughly enraged. What gave Jamaicans the right to downplay other Caribs… because we run fast?
I’m a senior in high school now, Jamaica. I have a boyfriend. I make good grades. I learned to love the brown skin I’m in and I now mark “Black” on questionnaires. It’s been a tough journey with you by my side, Jamaica, but I have to leave you for good now. I don’t think I can ever go to my homeland again. My dual-citizenship will expire soon, I believe, but I have no wish to renew it. I’m okay with becoming a just-American, but I won’t forget the lessons you taught me, Jamaica. I promise.
Sincerely, Marcus
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