I am from the Bronx. I have lived with my two parents and my two sisters in the same place my entire life. But like most other New Yorker, my family did not start out here. My ancestors are Indian, but parents are Guyanese. There are Indian people all over the Caribbean, because on May 5, 1838 slavery was abolished in all British-ruled Caribbean territories. And this created a labor void that needed to be filled. Thus the indentured labor system was born. People from all over India were recruited to go to the Caribbean to work under the pretense of better opportunities or a better life. But when the amount of workers was still not enough, recruiters resorted to bullying, kidnapping, and deception. They would lie about where the job was or what it entailed. And once the workers got to where they were going, they were treated much like the slaves who came before them, due to leftover practices and traditions from the time of enslavement.

Five generations ago, my family was brought from India to Guyana. My grandparents’ grandparents. On both sides. We don’t know exactly where in India we originate from. We may even have family in Pakistan, because they didn’t break away from India until about 70 years ago.

But even after all of this, a lot of the Indian customs and practices have been preserved in my family. We are still Hindus, I grew up watching 90s Bollywood movies, and I can sing “Do Re Me” in Sanskrit. My Hindu name is Toesita, after Lord Rama’s wife Sita. However, nowadays some Indian people don’t recognize Indo-Guyanese people as “Indian.” We are seen as a watered down or bastardized version of their culture and traditions. And I don’t totally disagree with this. It would have been impossible to remain the same. The broken English that is spoken in the Caribbean is a mix of Hindi, Spanish, and French words, and words from a dozen different African languages and so much more. We listen to Soca and Chutney and we even celebrate Christmas.

My parents and grandparents moved to New York from Guyana about three decades ago. They tell me stories of when they first got here. My mom worked in a deli and then a factory that made Cabbage Patch Kid dolls. My dad was a greeter at a department store. They tell me about the first time they saw snow and how cold their first winters were. And how hard they had to work to ensure their future. Thirty years and three kids later, they still reminisce about how far they’ve come and how different all our lives could have been.

I am a hyphenated American. I grew up with so many different cultures represented in my house. Old school India, modern America, and the rainbow of diversity that is the Caribbean. I’ll often hear a word from my dad or notice a superstition from my grandma and have to figure out which culture it actually came from. I have to separate the pieces all in my head, so I don’t, for example, yell Guyanese curse words at my American friends. But all these pieces are nonetheless a part of me.

*The opinions and ideas expressed are solely those of the author, and may not reflect the opinions of The Bronx Brand*

Desiree Sukhram can’t imagine living anywhere but the Bronx and is inspired everyday by the lives and stories of the people around the BX. The diversity and strength of this borough is instilled in everyone who lives here. Desiree loves the sense of pride and community that exists here. Everyone in the neighborhood knows everyone else. People are kind and care for one another.

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