Times are a'changing, we hope!
As exemplified by the evolving Guadeloupe model of social and cultural integration, people of every ethnic origin ought to be equipoise and treated as equals in the Caribbean.
Their differences and their ancestral heritage have to be considered cherished treasures and assets, first by themselves; and secondly by society, for the nation to be harmonious and strong.
Minorities in the Caribbean like the Amerindians, Chinese, Javanese, Indians, Lebanese, Syrians, Sephardic Jews, etc. need to see their sacrifices, their patience, and their continued contributions to the advancement and the cultural diversity of their country acknowledged. And this acknowledgement does not need to signal separation of the groups.
There is work to be done, in raising awareness of past misdeeds, extirpating old demons born of the colonial experience, and in celebrating a newfound Caribbean joy of forgiveness, respect, love and unity as one.
- J.S. Sahaï.
‘Ti Coolie’
By Melania Daniel
Much as I am for closer regional integration, I have to admit to a certain queasiness about the emerging Caricom Single Market and Economy (CSME). But this has more to do with the top heavy process by which integration has traditionally been pursued (political decrees versus people enthusiasm), the available personnel and resources to make it effective, as well as the chosen model rather than the intention of integration.
And I do wonder about the role race relations will play in the success or instability of a more deeply integrated English speaking Caribbean .
How much do we really know about the stories of those of other racial origins within Caricom, of the racial dynamics of Belize for instance?
By and large, other than the Africa slanted views from popular songs, textbooks and officially-sanctioned “cultural” activities, our post-independence knowledge of what really constitutes the Caribbean is rather limited.
The question of race popped up for me recently after reading a refreshingly original poem called “Return” by St. Lucian writer MacDonald Dixon, an ode to his paternal grandmother. It was the first time I could recall encountering a St. Lucian writer addressing his “Indian” side.
Possibly, from being called “Ti Coolie” rather much in childhood, on account of having a softer hair texture relative to my siblings, I ended up with a heightened sensitivity to the racial insults I heard flung at those similarly described. I have had a lot of moments of recoiling in the face of the most tasteless comments made to people of non-black African racial ancestry by black people.
Especially when those at the receiving end are not more recently arrived economic opportunists but those equal ‘victims’ of historical circumstances who have shared the Caribbean space about as long as everybody else who came or was deposited here.
I was always uncomfortable with a line from a Paul Keens-Douglas recording about an event that looked well attended only because it had a lot of Chinese people, since “it takes two Chinese to make one people”. No matter how I laughed and found it funny, I couldn’t shake off a nagging concern about how that went down with Caribbean nationals of Chinese descent, especially when all persons of even remotely discernable Asian ancestry are subjected to catcalls of “Ching Chongs”, regardless of country of origin.
I felt a cringing inside one day at an entertainment event before a sizeable gathering of white, extra-regional tourists, when one performer made a point of repeating that “White is the colour of under my feet”.
To be honest, some racial taunting is done with a sense of camaraderie in mutual exchanges of crass banter, but much of it is not. I have never been able to see it as “just a joke”, that our “Ti Coolies” may never be viewed as St. Lucians first who happen to have some remnant of East Indian ancestry.
Once, outside of St. Lucia , in an Indian-owned video store, I saw a movie called “The Coolies”. The owner told me a ‘coolie’ was a porter. Only then did it register that ‘coolie’ did not mean Indian, but some demeaning title by which the first “arrivants” possibly were called. I also learnt that early migrants from China were also derisively called ‘coolies’ by some Europeans.
There is a sense that black people have free license to treat others in the manner we perceive we were treated by the circumstances of colonial history, rather than as we would like ourselves to be treated now. And for the most part, the feeling is that the “Ti Coolies” who are the butt of disdain or jokes don’t or should not mind, for “who can’t take a little joke?”
Even if that joke means, as a ‘Coolie’ constantly having to explain physical attributes that one has no control over, like “why your bam-bam so flat?”.
Or growing up hearing everyday, all around you, how “Coolies are chapat” or “nyak”.
...
Will we have genuine unity based on a shared history and sincere affinity, or a collection of hyphenated nationalities, like Afro-Caribbean, Jamaican-St. Lucians and Indo-Trinidadians, where each group works to preserve its “cultural identity” from outsiders and loyalty to the clan becomes more important than allegiance to country?
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Most importantly, will our next generation of St. Lucian “Ti Coolies” feel they are a part of the broader Caricom if our interactions are not based on what one writer, calls “the grace of mutual respect”?
See complete article by Melania on St.Lucia Mirror online.
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