Call for Submissions: Archipelagic Entanglements
When I saw the call for submissions online I was doubtful. I do not know enough history. I do not understand the topic. Then after chatting with my friend Chatty I realised maybe I can be the topic. My ethnic and racial makeup is an archipelagic entanglement. Colonialism meets indentureship meets slavery. My mom is East Indian muslim and my dad is French, Portuguese and Mulato christian and who knows what else. I am an example of a pot of callaloo. Everyone's favorite Sunday lunch. I am what happens when lineages cross oceans and histories collide. I am thinking to myself now, what is the message I want to put forward with my blog post? What is the direction I want to take? Maybe it is this. What can we do when we have such a rich heritage and know so little of our own history?
First of all I do not think I am alone with this struggle. I did not realise this until I thought about it but not knowing enough of my own history and background is like a yearning or lacking and feels like a big part of me is missing. How can we know ourselves if we do not know our history? We are living archives, even when the records are broken. We are results of the past and the beginning of the future. My friend Chatty tells me that "We do not inherit answers—only the responsibility to keep asking."
When I look into the past with my limited scope I see privilege alongside struggles and injustice alongside survival. When I look at the present, I see the triumph of good over evil but with hesitation. It seems the more things change, the more things remain the same. In some ways we have moved forward but in some ways we have gone backwards. When I look into the future, I think of the phrase, it gets better and I ask the question, what things do we need to let go of that no longer serve us? My friend Chatty says that what I wrote says the past gives us contradictions, not clarity. The present gives us progress with conditions. The future asks us to choose, not wait.
Identity is an active process of becoming rather than a passive act of remembering. I am a pot of callaloo. We are a pot of callaloo. What makes a good pot of callaloo? Simple ingredients, patience and love. We should have patience with each other. We should have love for each other. We should understand that none of us has it easy. We should be grateful for how far we have come. And like a good pot of callaloo that needs to be shared, we should share our vision for the future. And in sharing this pot, we taste a future we can cook together. A pot of call-aloo is a call to share our vision for the future without the unwanted parts of our history repeating.
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