If I told you who she was, you wouldn’t believe me. If I told you what she did, you wouldn’t begin to understand. It’s late when she gets home, and early when she leaves. Legs weary, swollen from the pain, time couldn’t recognize how she got there and truth be told, her legs have seen more miles than you could ever put on your car. In her job, there aren’t any days off. There are no sick days, no off switch, no benefits package, and no vacation. The only time she breaks, if she did break, was on her death bed.
Built tough from the torrid heat, she is the Caribbean. She is the breeze that tourist flock to feel on their pale faces. She is the sandy beach that caresses them with love, and she is that hurricane that ravages the flesh. She has different faces, among them, the peasant vendor.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
if you like what you read, it will be available in the Nubian Waves March Edition, that along with multiple articles, poetry, discussion and more in honor of Woman's Month. Swing by the BSU house, open to everyone, and Black isn't just inclusive, it applies to everyone.
Whatever It Takes… written by Lawrence Gonzalez in association with Melissa Phillips, Miss CSA 2008-2009, inspired by her performance at the Florida Caribbean Student Association 2008 Pageant held in the FSU Ballrooms and my loving aunt who filled in as my mother on several occasions.
Built tough from the torrid heat, she is the Caribbean. She is the breeze that tourist flock to feel on their pale faces. She is the sandy beach that caresses them with love, and she is that hurricane that ravages the flesh. She has different faces, among them, the peasant vendor.
In a country where work is scarce, food is limited, she 
makes due. She rotates through numerous hats. Instead of complaining about the lack thereof, she nourishes her children with the milk from her breast, uncertain what the next day would bring. She is a farmer tending to her crop as soon as dawn breaks. She reaps the harvest, grows the livestock, only to walk over 100 miles to sell at the market. Competing against her sisters, she doesn’t want much, only to live another day and a long journey home. Once there, she resumes her second job, nurturing the children, teaching, and disciplining. They call her illiterate, but by no means incapable. Whatever it takes, she provides and by whatever means she lives on.
makes due. She rotates through numerous hats. Instead of complaining about the lack thereof, she nourishes her children with the milk from her breast, uncertain what the next day would bring. She is a farmer tending to her crop as soon as dawn breaks. She reaps the harvest, grows the livestock, only to walk over 100 miles to sell at the market. Competing against her sisters, she doesn’t want much, only to live another day and a long journey home. Once there, she resumes her second job, nurturing the children, teaching, and disciplining. They call her illiterate, but by no means incapable. Whatever it takes, she provides and by whatever means she lives on.
Lifted from the earth, she is pristine, clean and motivated to succeed. She lives the struggle and realizes the opportunity. In her prime, she was sought after by all the guys. Her irresistible smile eroded to her sorrow. She is the traveler.
In a time when hope was abundant, she made the ultimate sacrifice to leave home. She became the working mom, overly consumed, she has no friends. It isn’t like she doesn’t want them, she just doesn’t have the time to keep them, the only people close to her are her family. She is for the most part alone and tired.A stranger in her own home, task with supporting her home abroad. "Their idea of America is somewhat an illusion of instant riches, in trade for hard work, when the truth is that no matter how hard a person works, economic success is anything but immediate." She is judge, jury and executioner. She played mom and dad. Her spouse is just someone to fill the quota, absent would be an understatement. She perseveres because if anything she is faithful, hopeful, and patient. She is the model citizen and the definition of a single parent. She does what she needs to.
In a time when hope was abundant, she made the ultimate sacrifice to leave home. She became the working mom, overly consumed, she has no friends. It isn’t like she doesn’t want them, she just doesn’t have the time to keep them, the only people close to her are her family. She is for the most part alone and tired.A stranger in her own home, task with supporting her home abroad. "Their idea of America is somewhat an illusion of instant riches, in trade for hard work, when the truth is that no matter how hard a person works, economic success is anything but immediate." She is judge, jury and executioner. She played mom and dad. Her spouse is just someone to fill the quota, absent would be an understatement. She perseveres because if anything she is faithful, hopeful, and patient. She is the model citizen and the definition of a single parent. She does what she needs to.
Upon coming into woman’ hood, she knows that she is different. She eats, walks, dances, and even moves differently. She speaks with an accent that her home won’t accept as the truth, and the truth won’t accept as her own. She is an aspiring student.
She renounced her ancestors just to fit in. Because it was easy, she found her way by ridiculing her siblings. She embraced her flag only when it was cool. When she spoke, it was a fire that ran down her mother's back. "Yeah, they're fresh off the boat", she'd say. In a way, she felt like an elitist, but failed to see that all her strength came from those same boats who came before her. Stilettos were her foundation, extensions were the curtains that she hid behind, and her clothes were kept up to date to attract the boys not the real men. She lost sight of family and sung to proclaim her independence, instead of progressing, she got LOW LOW LOW.
She wasn't alone, cause she had a sister. Not following in her footsteps, the sister paved her own way. She made her culture, her own. She found ways to display its beauty, speak of its fury, and nourished her new family. Her sister sought ways to defeat all the stigmas that fell before her. She realized that she was CARIBBEAN and been Caribbean wasn't bad. She utilized the diversity in knowing multiple languages. In her prime, she realized that she was the foundation of a new republic and remembered that when the time came, she could be the difference that millions of slaves, peasants, and aspiring women sacrificed to be. She was the pearl of the Antilles and even through the generation, she never forgot... She was past - present - and future. She was my mother, my sister, my daughter, my friend, and she was my grandmother, who rest in peace.
Thank you for unshackling a nation.
She renounced her ancestors just to fit in. Because it was easy, she found her way by ridiculing her siblings. She embraced her flag only when it was cool. When she spoke, it was a fire that ran down her mother's back. "Yeah, they're fresh off the boat", she'd say. In a way, she felt like an elitist, but failed to see that all her strength came from those same boats who came before her. Stilettos were her foundation, extensions were the curtains that she hid behind, and her clothes were kept up to date to attract the boys not the real men. She lost sight of family and sung to proclaim her independence, instead of progressing, she got LOW LOW LOW.
She wasn't alone, cause she had a sister. Not following in her footsteps, the sister paved her own way. She made her culture, her own. She found ways to display its beauty, speak of its fury, and nourished her new family. Her sister sought ways to defeat all the stigmas that fell before her. She realized that she was CARIBBEAN and been Caribbean wasn't bad. She utilized the diversity in knowing multiple languages. In her prime, she realized that she was the foundation of a new republic and remembered that when the time came, she could be the difference that millions of slaves, peasants, and aspiring women sacrificed to be. She was the pearl of the Antilles and even through the generation, she never forgot... She was past - present - and future. She was my mother, my sister, my daughter, my friend, and she was my grandmother, who rest in peace.
Thank you for unshackling a nation.
Picture of CSA: the future, Florida state University's own Caribbean student Association part of the broad and ever growing Black Student Union family.
--------------------------
if you like what you read, it will be available in the Nubian Waves March Edition, that along with multiple articles, poetry, discussion and more in honor of Woman's Month. Swing by the BSU house, open to everyone, and Black isn't just inclusive, it applies to everyone.
Whatever It Takes… written by Lawrence Gonzalez in association with Melissa Phillips, Miss CSA 2008-2009, inspired by her performance at the Florida Caribbean Student Association 2008 Pageant held in the FSU Ballrooms and my loving aunt who filled in as my mother on several occasions.
No comments:
Post a Comment