Finding Jamaica in New York

Introduction: Leaving Home

I was born at Victoria Jubilee Hospital in Kingston, Jamaica. I migrated with my paternal family to the United States at six years old, leaving my whole maternal side behind. I remember crying every day, begging to go back home. Everything felt so strange: the people, the food, the money, even the way they spoke about dates and time. To make matters worse, I was surrounded by relatives I barely knew.

My cousins were first-gen Americans, so they didn't know much about Jamaica outside of what they were taught at home. I didn't know how to connect with them, and they didn't know how to communicate with me.

I didn't want to be in America. My mom had to literally force me on the plane, because the first time she tried, I bawled my eyes out and refused to go. I won that battle. My father, however, was not happy; he had wasted thousands of dollars trying to bring me over the first time.

Culture Shock & Resentment

I have had to adjust to a new culture in the States. As I got older, I began to stray from my Jamaican identity and even formed resentment toward it.

During that resentment phase, I denied being Jamaican. I was constantly asked weird questions or teased with crazy and ignorant remarks. The most common one was: "Do you smoke marijuana?" Like, no, Miranda, I was 12 years old.

It was equally annoying to be asked to "say something in Patois," or to hear people reduce Jamaica to Bob Marley and bumboclaat. Outside experiences pushed me further away, but so did my home life. Jamaican parents can be super strict, and I hated how speaking up for myself was deemed disrespectful.

Teenage Years: Turning Away from Jamaica

By my teenage years, my resentment was in full effect. I completely blocked out being Jamaican. I didn't begin to love my culture again until my late teens and early twenties, when I started listening to Dancehall, learning more about my country, and reconnecting with family.

I fell so deeply in love with Jamaica that I even dated two Jamaican men back-to-back, something I swore I'd never do. Crazy, I know! Before I knew it, everything in my life felt Jamaican again.

Reconnection in New York

Now that I've moved to New York City, my connection to my culture is stronger than ever. Yes, South Florida has a large Jamaican community, but New York feels different.

Here, I've attended countless Jamaican clubs and parties, the Labor Day Parade, and even a NYFW-inspired Caribbean hair show. The friends I meet are mostly Caribbean. Jamaican music blasts in the streets, people wear our colors proudly, and I hear the accent daily as I walk through the city.

Seeing the streets lined with Jamaican food trucks and restaurants, especially in Brooklyn, made it almost feel like home. I guess it kinda is, since New York was the first state my family migrated to before Florida. So being here brings me back to my earliest childhood memories.

Conclusion: Full Circle

I came to New York to pursue my dreams, not expecting to rediscover my roots. But instead, I found myself forming an even deeper connection with my culture. In many ways, my Jamaican identity shines brighter here than it ever has before.

Have you ever lost touch with your culture, and if so, what helped you reconnect?