Downtown, Providence, RI
'A man can be many things in his life' a string of words that I have followed for long time now. I can't remember their source but I believe in them deeply. I will thank the author if I ever recall his name. My roots do not rhyme with my future and my present is far removed from my past. I don't think that people choose to live in parts, no matter how loudly they celebrate their accumulated diversity. I own that experience, but I am not sure that I would have bought it had I been given a choice first. True diversity is beautiful but it does weigh heavy on the owner's heart.
I don't know the voice of any of my grandparents. There is not one memory that I own of them; not a word, not a glance. The will of nature and a war that none of us voted for shredded all the branches of our family. A centuries old Liberian tree was splintered and sent drifting across the oceans. Because this is my history, it is at times difficult to know that I enjoy rare privileges. It is hard to accept that my life is boundless because of my misfortune.
The opportunity to fulfill a dream is liberating, but I am not sure if it is worth not having the ability to curse in my native tongue. We can go anywhere from here, except back; we no longer own what was left behind. The war destroyed almost everything. Surviving took care of the rest.
Liberian and American flags pictured during President Bush's 2008 visit to Liberia.
White House photo by Shealah Craighead.
Even my best Liberian accent has the threads of a curated, practiced American English that frustrates its cadence. I don't know if this fact makes me more or less authentic. That is the curious nature of America, it was the only place we could run to from home and get closer to our history.
I have so many parts and cultures that now resonate with me and make me who I am. I have in one lifetime accomplished a great deal that means a lot here, in America. I don't know that my grandfather would care about my achievements though, because he didn't need books or night jobs to lead his people and earn his freedom.
I live in a world where I am best described by contradictory and competing adjectives. Titles that all give a small idea of who I am when linked together, but are lifeless; just lies, when standing alone. I know the ideas of dead Greeks and when I hear 'The Classics' I think of Crimson and Englishmen. I was raised in a city that is a portrait of Caribbean exodus painted with West African strokes. Those who best understand me, and who I keep close to my heart are not Liberian, but also survivors of the cultural exchange. My Muse is a sun dipped sister whose people come from Santo Domingo and my best counsel a son of Imo state. I can't imagine choosing a different pair to walk with.
When things fall to pieces and become scattered it is easy to assume that their good use may be gone. I have learned that it is best to hold hope for something more to come from those pieces. The new whole may at times seem thick, insincere and impossible to understand because of its mended nature, but it has worth; it can be beautiful. Diversity is necessary but there was never a promise of it being agreeable or easy. My life has forcibly found a way to grow and become beautiful despite being uprooted. My world is rich and truly diverse, but I have earned all that I love about who I am at a very high cost. I will never only be a Liberian or an American, but someone who always takes a hyphen.
I have been many things in my life and I will be more before the sun has set.
MM