The Ties that Bind 1
1963/1964
A small toddler, around 3 years old, and his mother would leave their home in Antigua to begin a journey across the Atlantic Ocean. They would settle on a plot of land that only exists because a now-extinct volcano once decided to spew its venom out upon the sea. This island, this tiny dot, the isle of devils, would bring them new adventures, new family, and a new life.
Somewhere on the island, a young Bermudian man would see a photo of the boy’s mother in the home of one of her relatives who had already sojourned to the island. Curiously smitten by what he saw, he would eventually marry her, take care of the boy as his own, and have three daughters with his wife. The toddler boy would settle neatly into life in Bermuda. He would grow, form strong bonds, and ground his feet and his soul on the island. He would become strong, fall in love, and eventually start his own family. Although he was a transplant, he would become a son of the soil no less than any born and bred Bermudian man.
2024
My best friend, who works and lives in Canada, is visiting home for a couple of weeks. During one of our catch-up sessions, she tells me about how she had recently met some university students from the Caribbean. Upon learning that she was a Bermudian, they told her about their previous interaction with some Bermudians at their school. The school was having a world food fair, and the Caribbean club, of which these students were members, was having a booth at the fair. They invited the Bermudian students to join the club and be a part of their booth. The Bermudians quickly snapped that they were not a part of the Caribbean. The Caribbean students acknowledged that while Bermuda is not a part of the geographical Caribbean region, it can be and is classified as culturally Caribbean and once again extended their invitation. The Bermudians continued to emphasize that they would not be a part of the Caribbean Club table and would do their own thing because Bermuda is not a part of the Caribbean.
This story reflects the attitude that some Bermudian’s have towards the Caribbean. Although this attitude seems to be less pervasive than during previous times, the fact that this is a sentiment that is still held by some Bermudians is disappointing to say the least. Throughout our history, black Bermudians have been quick to draw clear lines between themselves and blacks from the larger Caribbean region. There may are reasons for this attitude. In his book “Black Clubs in Bermuda, author Frank E. Manning notes that, “The division between the black Bermudians and the black West Indian can be traced to the first decade of the twentieth century, when large numbers of West Indians immigrated to Bermuda, chiefly as labor force…” Manning also goes on to suggest that the reason for this disengagement was largely due to the political use of West Indians to subjugate black Bermudians.
Not So Far Removed
The boy from my first story grew up to become my father. My grandmother’s bravery as a single mother traveling to a new country with her young son led to my birth and my life as a Bermudian. The Davika you know would not exist if my grandmother didn’t make that move. My family’s story is not uncommon. Many Bermudians have familial ties to the Caribbean. Some ties are close and traceable, like my own family tree. Other ties are not so blatant or accessible and require lots of digging to piece together. The ties are there nonetheless.
Enslaved Bermudians were traded and sold across the larger Caribbean region. Similarly, slaves from the Caribbean region were brought here to Bermuda. Between the exchange of the enslaved between these geograhical regions and the historical migration of West Indians to Bermuda today, many Bermudians likely have little to no idea just how closely related and intermingled we are with our Brothers and Sisters in the Caribbean. Or do we?
You see, whether we identify as Bermudian or as another Caribbean nationality it doesn’t really matter. Our ancestors were all forcefully brought over from the same place. Arguing over whose country is better and why or being staunchly opposed to being labeled as a part of the Caribbean is a moot point when our deepest, strongest roots are buried on the same plot of land. Beyond our modern-day national identities and our shared experiences as diasporans in the world, we are people descended from Africa. Sure, our unique experiences to our identity, but beneath it all, there are many more commonalities than differences. We share traditions, ideologies, nuances of our cultural identity, and genetics, and if we closely follow those threads, we find they lead us back to our first home on this planet, our mother land, and the original tie that binds us together.
References
Manning, Frank E. Black Clubs in Bermuda. London. Cornell University Press. 1973.
One thing I hate is a diaspora war because it only serves white supremacy. I’d rather spend that energy loving our commonalities and being curious about and learning from our differences.