"Crossing Flatbush Avenue"

This is my aunt's story on how she moved from Trinidad to the U.S and where she's been since then. She wanted to remain completely anonymous, so I hope that isn't a problem.

At the age of 7, I was tricked into leaving my grandmother in Trinidad and Tobago to live in the US with my parents. I thought I was coming here for a vacation. I remember telling my friends that in two weeks I will be back. Not knowing that this 'going away' party my mother was having for us was really going to be something permanent. Since, I have lived in the US for 34 years with my brother, sister, mother, father, and briefly my grandmother. I have many relatives here throughout the states but what we term close relatives, aunts, uncles, and many, many cousins still resides there.

The thing that I wanted to see the most in the US was snow. We sang let it snow in Trinidad; however, it was an impossibility. I did not think about going to school here because I thought I was on vacation. I kept asking my mother, 'when are we going home?' but she would only say soon. The questioning got less over time and I found myself in a foreign school with foreign kids.

I did not expect much from the US, being that I was young but I was struck by the lack/no corporal punishment levied in school. In Trinidad, during the 70s corporal punishment was the norm for having dirty nails, shoes, in correct answers on exam. For example, if you have seven answers wrong on a math test, the class was asked how many got seven wrong. You would have to stand up then the teacher would ask you to stretch out the palm of your hand and you were given seven lashes. As a new student here, I found this to be strange. No corporal punishment? I also noticed my teacher had no control of her class. That was strange. The way Americans spoke was also strange. I was used to British and Australian accents than American. I grew up watching 'Skippy the Bush Kangaroo'. Even writing was a difficult task that resulted in many failing vocabulary exams. Is it ‘neighbour’ or ‘neighbor’? But after my second year in this country, I was able to master, to a degree, American intonations. To a degree, I still use what we call 'patois' which is not broken English. It is a mixture of different languages since we have been colonized by many European countries. For instance, an avocado is called a pear or zabuca. A chestnut is called a châtaigne which is French and an eggplant would be a melangine. I believe that mélange is from the latin word melongena

I do now if my lifestyle has changed since I grew up here but the values that my parents grew up with I had to adopt. Education was key. Since all we had to do was go to school my parents did not want to hear about any failing grades. There is always pressure to do things differently than how your parents did things. And, from time to time, you would hear, ‘You are becoming American’. My response is when in America act like an American.

I became a citizen because I was tired of being thrown against to wall to be questioned as an illegal trying to sneak into a European country. This happened on many occasions while I was studying in France. I was detained in Calais almost missing my ferry to Dover. I had to tell the custom agent that I did not require a visa for English since I was a citizen of the commonwealth and that they had the authority to deport me not the French. I already had a student visa for France. My only defense was to tell the custom agent that ten terrorists have already boarded the boat while they were wasting there time with me. The eventually let me go. Plus I could not even go to Luxembourg with my study group because I did not have an American passport. At that point I had had it and vowed to get my citizenship.

I think of myself as American when we are not at war.

I do not think all immigrants go through the same experience. There are some that are given asylum and seed money when they come to the US. For example, the immigrants of the cold war. Even now they are rewarded. There are others who have to sneak in and pray that immigration is not over their shoulders. My mother was lucky, fortunately. Her sponsors reneged on her contract, so she was able to leave them, obtained a lawyer to get her papers. However, my parents had to work at least three jobs between them in order to support us. I knew classmates who came to this country and their family was on welfare while their parents were allowed to work simply because they came from a different part of the world than me. Among people from the Caribbean, my experience is fairly common.

I have family in the Caribbean. I have traveled many times to see my aunts, uncle and cousins. And they have traveled here.

Hopefully, I would like to have the American dream and that is to own my own house in the near future.