Go Back Home On Your Banana Boat

In all my 25 years with 18 years of experience, I still have never seen a banana boat. Small as I was when I first heard the phrase, I knew that somehow a banana boat was not a safe way to travel clear across the deep blue sea, thousands of miles from Jamaica over to the city that never sleeps, on the banks of the great Hudson River. I never gave the "banana boat" expression much thought, except I knew it was not meant in a good way. To think that the expression came from little people who were just as small as I was back in kindergarten. Those little bodies with big mouths must have heard the derogatory phrase from their elders. Children certainly could not have come up with it on their own. Between the giggles, sneers, and ways I felt humiliated, I knew the term "banana boat" was meant to make me feel different and out of place. I felt fine about myself but folks that looked just like me were destined to torture me about what I said and how I sounded different saying it.

 Poor little 4-year-old me, I was still trying to figure out important 4-year-old things like how the weather went from hell's inferno and open street hydrants in June to icy sidewalks and ski masks in November. Amidst my confusion about the weather, I was also trying to figure out why it tasted so funny when I bit into every red apple.  Weather and food had me confused for sure. I would read the packages that said, "red delicious apples", but something did not quite connect with my taste buds that longed for Jamaica.  It took me years to figure out both the weather and the vegetation in New York City. I rebelled against red delicious apples by eating Granny Smith green apples,  lol. Here I am 38 years later and I'm still trying to find some good old red Ethiopian apples that I used to eat in Jamaica. My mouth is watering just thinking of them. A part of me still hopes that on the rare occasion when I bite into a red delicious apple, a miracle will happen. Even Amazon Prime has not been able to solve my situation of locating a good, constant supply of Ethiopian (Otaheite) apples. I'm still working on it and I will let you know what I find out.  

The recent resurrection of immigrant insults in mainstream American media has made me reflect on what it meant to be a born Jamaican and also be a proud, productive American citizen simultaneously. For me, it means open doors, forgotten places, cold rejection, being different yet the same, pride, purpose, passion, peculiarity, and so much more...... It also means the responsibility to teach my American children as much as I can as fast as I can. Now my little pikni dem have absolutely no trace of Jamaica in their speech, except when they imitate the Jamaican Patois (Patwa) expressions that my parents use.   Come to think of it, neither do I.  I sound more like someone who has taken many rides on the Hudson River's Circle Line Boat, rather than on a banana boat.  My children burst into laughter jeering me about being a fake Jamaican.  Duppy know who fi frighten because when I pop out my Dutch pot, the critics give me 5 stars.  On another hand, they are born and raised in America, yet they also consider themselves part Jamaican.  What makes me a real Jamaican? or them a fake Jamaican? or anyone a real American? hmmm?  

I would hope after all the years of investing in America, I would be considered a real American. After all, I was born down the sea, from Alexander Hamilton who was born in St. Kits and Nevis, and considered one of the founding fathers for his contributions to the American treasury system and the Coast Guard.  Even if it is only in a bowl of hominy corn, a dish of escoveitch fish, or at the McDonalds drive thru, I can remind my children that I am still their mooma, just a modern mooma. The most important thing is that they know a banana tree when they see one (hopefully) and if they had to build a boat from a bunch of bananas, they might could make it the best banana boat ever. Dem come from good stock  because we likkle but we still tallawah right here in America the beautiful.

Cornelia shares additional stories about her life in her book The Birthing Chair: Push Past Pain and Release Purpose

follow Cornelia on Instagram @thebirthingchair, Facebook @thebirthingchair16 & Twitter @birthing_chair 
Location: Clermont, FL, USA

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