 |
West Indian Americans in the Diaspora By Dr. Aubrey Bonnett |
November 2004: This week we ended the thanksgiving holiday one celebrated with much ritual and fanfare in our new Home, here in America; and without missing a beat-indeed with a seamless transferability-many Americans began the mad, frenetic shopping extravaganza, euphemistically called Xmas shopping. Retailers at all levels salivate at the thought of all citizens-even those who are not Christians-maximizing their profit margins, and doing the economy much good by spurring consumer spending. After all America, is a Christian nation, our political elites tell us, "One Nation under God". And God knows, this is all we have economically as our economy is on a slow meltdown. As I began my trek to another state to celebrate this American holiday, I could not but help noticing the large number of immigrants and other newly minted Americans-many West Indians-who were all waiting in the long lines at the airports, and I wondered at this outward manifestation of segmented assimilation.
Sure, we have our "thanksgiving" at home in our donor societies, but it is a more religiously slanted event, tied to the "harvest" and the celebration and offering of gratitude for life and its bounties, the fortunate among us manage to enjoy. And yes, we West Indians traditionally celebrate Christmas and "old year's night" in a big way; largely, however, as a time to renew acquaintances and friendships, reconnect with families, and share and enjoy national culinary delicacies and dishes to their utmost.
Two events, however, brought me to different reality this year-that of our [yours and mine], ultimate mortality, and the fleeting nature of our sojourn here on earth. In the first instance, it related to an old friendship with an individual [the late Keith Byrne, or KB as he was lovingly known] in the sixties, which had waxed and waned during our university days in Canada [he at McGill and I at Alberta], and which continued in his many trips to New York to work, retool and party in the summer, before dealing with the cold climes of another sojourn in Canada. I had enjoyed the advantage of having relatives already domiciled in the New York area and tried, mightily, to replicate home for so many of the 'comrades' from the many colleges in the USA and Puerto Rico/US Virgin Islands. Those Green and Brooklyn avenues days in the borough of Brooklyn, New York, seem so distant now; but they were good ones, and many friendships were made and cemented. However, as so often happens in coming to America with the pursuit of life's goals and early adulthood, I had not maintained this friendship and, just this summer before yet another trek abroad, I learnt that KB was gravely ill, and made several attempts to hookup and reconnect, while still trying to respect his privacy and not brusquely invade his personal and familial space. It never happened, and at the memorization of his wonderful life here on earth, one of his closest friends, [Hutton Archer], who was eulogizing him also succumbed to his own mortality-quite unexpectedly.
I am reminded of a pivotal piece of research and scholarship in a text by social psychologist Daniel J.Levinson entitled: The Seasons of a Man's Life, where he, [Levinson], outlines the salient life cycles in a man's existence, their starting and exit points and the challenges and opportunities they present us over time in our life's trajectory. Levinson published his work in 1978, and I was later privileged during my decanal career in the late 80's, on the west coast, to have him visit and lecture on the campus from the nearby Loma Linda University, where he was academically ensconced. Many of us may remember Gail Sheehy's renowned work, PASSAGES, which, in essence, replicated and mirrored the same experiences described by Levinson, for women, but with much more fanfare and publicity-women after all were enjoying the tailwinds of the feminist revolution, still. Sheehy, it was claimed, had done much of her research as part of Levinson's larger, pivotal study.
One poignant framework for me is his description of ending middle adulthood [55-60], and the beginning of late adulthood transition, from about 60-65 or so, where the efforts at rejuvenating ourselves and enriching our lives begin to wane. Levinson describes this transitional period, such: "The tasks of this transition are to conclude the efforts of middle adulthood and to prepare oneself for the era to come. It is a period of significant development and represents a major turning point in the life cycle." As Levinson sees it: "transitions are bridges or 'boundary zones' between two states of greater stabilityinvolving a process of change, a shift from one structure to another." For me, the critical intervening concepts embedded here, are terminating and beginning.
For many in my generation we are already at or approaching this crossroad where we ought less to be concerned with career and professional accentuation; or the endless pursuit of material wealth [even if some of it represents insurance for loved ones and progeny left behind]; and most certainly not with the mad and relenting addiction to this consumer driven society, enmeshed in an economic system called capitalism, where the dollar reigns supreme, and the soul is spiritually starved. Nay, as we enter this last cycle-however long it may last-let us revel in reconnecting old friendships, and exploring and nurturing those we now have, and will continue to make as we complete our life cycle. Let us commit ourselves to altruistic goals to help alleviate the suffering of our fellow man-our figurative neighbors, especially-however best we can; and, finally, let us buttress and seek to improve family, [tribal], relationships at every level in their ultimate extended and nuclear forms. Let us, moreover, strive to leave a worthwhile and impressive moral and spiritual legacy as pathways for those who follow and, indeed, look to us for leadership.
So, as we exit this thanksgiving, and try to avoid the mad Xmas rush, we must recommit to giving thanks to our maker, for life and its blessings; and seek to transmit the benefits from our largess to the less fortunate here and at "home"; and celebrate this 'holy' season for its spiritual thrusts and its analogousness to other religions and belief systems.
For, as Shakespeare so aptly states in Hamlet:
"There is a divinity that shapes our
Ends,
Rough-hew them how we will."
Such are the seasons of a man's life.