Movement

The End of Resistance

I was fourteen years old when I first went to Jouvert in Brooklyn, New York. I distinctly remember walking down the street with family and being side-eyed by some of the annoyed police officers. One of them muttered that we were too young to be out so late. Was he right? Absolutely. Was it cultural? Of course. Was it necessary? Nah. It didn’t stop me from being excited about it. I can’t remember the lame outfit I had on, but I remember walking down the streets to the sound of lively soca music. I believe we left out at 12 am and returned around 3 am. We did all the right things—we stayed together, we didn’t drink, and we stuck to the plan. I remember the next morning, which is the day of the Carnival Parade (and officially Labor Day), I went on social media excited to see the women and men playing mas.

Of course, there was a bunch of commentary from confused Americans who did not understand the culture. It’s ironic because many of them complain loudly about their culture, but refuse to respect ours. Well, that’s the opinion I had at the time. Now, I couldn't care less. Regardless, I remember seeing a video of a young lady calling Carnival oversexualized and saying that it distracted men from their girlfriends/wives. The main part that stood out to me was when she said Guyanese people are not Caribbean because Guyana is located in South America. This was the first time I realized that people would be willing to deny my existence and cultural heritage based on a surface-level fact. And I found myself later on having that experience, except they said it to my face.

It was always shocking. And it was always from someone who was not Caribbean. Someone who was not willing to learn about a world outside of their own. And as the internet has expanded, and I’ve gotten a bit older, this much hasn’t changed. But back to that first moment. I remember laughing at it because I understood that she didn’t understand. She didn’t know any better. So, I grabbed my puri and sour for the road and enjoyed the rest of the day at carnival. And no, I never hopped the gate.