Riding past the ‘In-Betweens’

I want to move past types within definitions such as being divorced, Indian, business owner and so on. It bothers me when certain expressions for individuality causes separation. Don’t get me wrong I love, cherish, individuality. I crave it and want to give it to you. It’s the separation that comes from groups, organizations, and certain constructs that seem counterintuitive to unity that concerns me.

 

Alexander McQueen, an amazing fashion designer, said in an interview that he doesn’t talk or define himself as gay because there’s nothing to talk about it’s who he is. This thinking struck me as deeply profound. Does a straight person in conversation say “I’m straight”.  No.  Yet a gay person will.

 

I’m Indian and grew up in Barbados surrounded by every skin color beautifully imagined. My friends were Swedish, Italian, English, Bermudian and many more in-between. This was consciously done I wanted to defy my dad, who was prejudice even though he had a son with an African woman. My poor father could never give to his son what he deserved. I can only imagine the inner torment his soul was in, living through this human, trying to fight and push from this frivolous perception. I’m sending my father love.

 

This taught me an important lesson though, I didn’t want anything ‘more’ than my brothers and sisters. That meant leaving my skin color on the floor.  I actively sought actions that pushed me away from this, and it wasn’t hard because I saw what ‘hard’ really meant. 

 

My brother struggled his entire life trying to fit in with the Indians and the Africans. He even wrote a book of poems Douglas; a slang term defining half Indian and half black person.  I was eleven when I tried to read it.  It was too hard.  He put his pain on the page and it was just too complex for me.  He was brave.  Now this book is out of print and eventually it will be part of my collection.

 

My beautiful sister struggled between one family and another never quite feeling like she fit.  It’s hard living in-between. Riding the cusp of somethings and never knowing or feeling belonged. I know this place well.  

 

I knew never to call him my ‘half-brother’; he’s my brother.  I knew never to introduce her as my ‘adopted sister’; she’s my sister.  It never bothered me we looked differently and told my mother “stop answering those questions that ask why we look different.  It’s no one’s business”.  She did immediately and said “thank you I just never thought of it that way”.

 

I noticed when I walked into restaurants, or went out ‘the Indians’ looked at me and nobody else did. This still happens today.  A lingering moment that reminds me I have color.  I’ve had many Indians say “so you’re Indian?”. I admit the sarcasm surges up and I’m dying to be a smart ass and ask “do you really think we’re connecting?” 

 

I know this race card is old but white people don’t go around saying “hey you’re white”.  

 

We are living the shift toward connection. That’s what many of our writings are about. Wonderfully enough it seems intimacy is expanding beyond private walls. Look at these blogs, the hearts that are beating in the open with blood trickling down fingertips.  We are all asking to be held and cherished as we are. Not to be defined through limiting thoughts. To break free from ourselves and we are doing it in the wide open air hoping to be cleansed of what needs going. Is there anything more beautiful?

 

I’m ready to say the things that’s under the surface irregardless of the outcome. Please understand not with the intent to harm you. No. Rather with the purpose to touch on something real. In doing that, in learning to live me, I’m letting go of being ‘liked’ and the need to ‘fit in’. 

 

There’s this pushing and pulling and it’s my new clue that’s telling me time for a change.  I’m asking myself “what needs to go?”, wait for the answer and then move forward.  This is the real challenge taking the steps to live it out what needs doing in life.  I’m starting with uncloaking the in-betweens.