Not Trini Enough, Not American Enough
“Get back on the boat,” is what they used to tell me. “Why do you speak like that?” is what they used to ask me. I was in the 5th grade and all I could remember was coming home every day and crying. For an 11 year old girl, acceptance is very important. To be scrutinized every day for a dialect I couldn’t control was almost unbearable. Both of my parents were born in Port of Spain, Trinidad. My brother and I were the first generation to be born in the United States. Growing up, my house WAS Trinidad. From the music, to the food, to the sing song accent. I knew I was American, but I loved my Trinidadian culture and I identified with it the most; largely because everyone I encountered up until middle school had a West Indian background as well. To this day, people still don’t believe I was born in Brooklyn, New York because my dialect is so strong. It was a badge of honor when I was younger because though I was born in the “states” it was the worst thing in the world to be called a “yankee”. I did my best to stay far away from any association with that name.
This was until middle school. I was picked on and laughed at almost every day for the way I spoke. I used proper English, but I just had an accent. I was a very strong reader when I was younger and I enjoyed volunteering to read out loud in class. The teasing got so bad to the point I stopped raising my hand to read because my classmates would complain about the immigrant always being chosen to read out loud with my funny voice.
In an attempt to assimilate, I begged my mother to get me a speech tutor. She did and I was taught how to say “three” instead of “tree”. I stopped saying “Whas de scene” and began saying “What’s up”. I shortened my vowels and even adjusted my voice to sound more “American”. The teasing decreased, but now instead of making fun of my accent, it was my love for soca and bright colors. It was even a struggle to subdue my accent because it was all I knew growing up and now I had to suppress it.
That same summer I went to Trinidad to visit my family and then it happened. My cousins called me the dreaded word…”yankee”. I was devastated to say the least. I immediately dashed away everything I learned from my speech tutor and reverted back to my sweet dialect. This, again, was not good enough. My cousins began to make fun of me for living in America and accused me of being a “fake Trini”.
As I got older I realized that I couldn’t please everyone. I could only be true to myself. I am an American/Trinidadian. Yes I speak with an accent, but it is just extra seasoning for the flavor of personality. Once I reached my senior year of high school, I no longer hid my accent and everyone started to call me “sexy Trini” and I loved it. I knew who I was and was proud of it. I articulated myself just as clear as the next person and I realized my accent only added to my personality. Today, my accent is one of the things my friends love about me. I’m the “Trini gyal” and every time they call me that I respond with a big smile.
Yes, I know how to turn it on and off, but it is no longer a struggle. Sometimes I sound like a “yankee” and sometimes I sound like a Trini. This is because both of these cultures make up who I am. I feel privileged to be able to share the richness of both cultures and I will NEVER be ashamed of either one again.
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I think it’s something all immigrant generations go through. I get the same thing, my parents being Jamaican, I love the duality of my culture and feel like it makes me a better person. My daughter will have the same struggle, but I’ll tell her like I tell myself, “without people to spread caribbean culture like 1st, 2nd and 3rd generations where would the Caribbean people be, where would reggae music be, who would support the culture globally” be proud of your accent and the fact that you live in a country that you can express yourself freely and identify yourself accordingly.
WOW—so many 1st generation Americans with Trini parents here! I can really relate to this–especially being called “yankee” by friends and family in Trinidad. Even the Trini-born folks I know who also live here in NYC call me a “fake Trini”. But I call it a blessing to be able to call two different cultures your own. I can be as American as apple pie, but I’ll also whine yuh down at a fete…lol.
[...] “Not Trini enough, Not American enough”- a brown girl’s struggle to fit in. [Clutch] [...]
Oh my!!! I’m so happy to read this. This story was my life too but my parents are Jamaicans. Thank you for writing about this so others can see our growing pains as 1st generation offspring.
I loved this article and I can so relate. My mother is from England and my dad was born in America. But all of my grandparents are West Indian. My dad parents are Jamaican and my mother parents are from Nevis. I was often warned not to act like those American children. So when they ask me what am I….I am clearly mixed up. My identity didn’t become an issue until I went to public school. During elementary school in Brooklyn I was sheltered by West Indian teachers who gave out lines and licks like it was going out of style. I’ve spent every summer and holiday on one of those islands and very proud to say I am West Indian American.
This accent is so on point, and although I’m not Trinidadian, or Carribbean, I totally relate. I am a Ghanaian-American who used to find it hard to try to fit in on both sides. One side says you’re not completely American, and the other claims you’re not fully Ghanaian. Well too bad, because I’m both and extremely proud. Wouldn’t change it for the world. I learned how to accept myself as is and love it.
P.S. Great article from cnn about a month ago discussing the difficulties of identifying as a 1st generation-American.
this is an wonderful article! both of my parents are from San Fernando, Trinidad and my siblings and I were born in America. I was raised as a Trinidadian. I listen to my Soca, my Calypso and eat my roti, callallo…etc..I am now 30 years old. I am not denying my American side or the fact that I was born in the states, but that is the way I was raised and it is what I know. i sport my trini flag and I wine up and lime…it is who I am…
I can completely understand how u feel. I’m 19 but in my case I’m jamaican. growing up i had a accent same way like you and I even had speech class in school from like first grade to about 4th grade. I didnt ask for it, the school put me in it. I never thought I had a speech problem I spoke and read well its just that i had an accent. Then once i got older like its like your family love pull out the yankee card like just because you were born in america your somehow less of a jamaican. we grew up listening to reggae, dancehall, going to sunday school on sunday morning, eating cook food and learning not to love going on the road to buy food, etc Certain family members never even knew I can speak patois so good and was shocked like at a “yankee” speaking patois so good (walked in on me cussing somebody out). I’m still learning to come into the yankee criticism and at times i feel self concious around those who born ah yaad because i’m not a kid anymore and as a older person now your more self concious and aware of things people say and so sometimes all together i just dont speak it round those who arent family members or other jamaican-american friends in fear of being called the dreaded word “yankee”. Its like americans think your jamaican and jamaicans think your american and as soon as u get big and make something of yourself everybody want 2 claim you. i dont hear dominicans born in america saying i’m dominican-american their just dominican to their own. i dont hear chinese people saying the same neither. its only island people stay so and Its not a good thing.
Good Lord. This story is almost EXACTLY like my story. Great article.
Story of my life…I’m from Trinidad but moved to the states when was 6 years old. The jokes were brutal and made me very self conscious-something I was experiencing for the first time. I alternate between my dialect and my “American Accent” everyday. I don’t even notice when I do it, but apparently when I speak like a yankie as my family says I do, you can still pick up on my sing song accent. *Kanye shrugg*
Now when people ask me what am, I say Trinidadian, and I dare them to tell me any different because I can cook roti and curry like the best of them…the first thing my mother taught me how to cook. We define ourselves period. Love to all my Trinidadians (I don’t care if you were born mid flight above the Pacific).
Very good article. I can totally relate. I was born in Jamaica, came here as a child. I went through the same exact thing. Now, I have a daughter, I feel bad for her, cause her father is from Guyana and me being from Jamaica. She spends time in both places, and already she is being teased by our relatives.