Push-Me Pull-You Vol.1|1

by Joseph Daly

Ancestry is a fascinating subject. I liken it to how the conscience operates in a living being. It doesn’t speak loudly, but it governs your movements. You may choose to ignore it but in your quieter and more reflective moments it speaks to you and manifests itself in ways you may not understand. In essence it is who “you” are and without it “you” would not exist.

My nationality is Canadian. My conscience is Caribbean.

According to Statistics Canada, Canadians of Caribbean descent numbered more than 500,000 by 2001. Almost 60% of that population lives in my home town, Toronto. Anybody who has been to Toronto has witnessed the concept of multiculturalism at its best. The city prides itself on the fact that practically every country on earth has a sizeable community here. Walk into a bus in any given neighbourhood and you can here ten or more different languages.

In this landscape being a person of Caribbean descent takes on an interesting characteristic. You are often encouraged to identify with your country of origin rather than the country you live in. You constantly are asked what country you are from, even if you have spent your whole life in Canada, and you answer proudly; if you are wondering I am of Trinidadian and Montserration descent.

The downfall is that you often live in a strangely dichotomous situation. You share similar goals, live in the same neighbourhoods and sing the same national anthem at school, but you are always looked upon as being an “other,” like an exile in your own country. Every now and then your culture takes the spotlight and you are treated with more reverence from the population at large. For the Caribbean community our chance to shine takes place on the first weekend of August at the Caribana festival. It is one of many celebrations in North America that is a derivative of Carnival in Trinidad. Toronto’s is arguably the most popular.

Being of Caribbean descent has influenced every aspect of my life, especially my music career. I am a spoken word/Hip Hop artist that liberally dips into my ancestry for inspiration. The lyrical freedom of extempo, the African-derived rhythms, we of Caribbean ancestry have a tradition of call and response musicianship that is the mainstay of much of today’s popular music (Hip hop is, after-all, an offshoot of the “toasting” tradition popularized by pioneering Jamaican djs in the 1970s like U-Roy and King Stitch).

I’m proud of my heritage. As much as this dichotomous, push-me pull-you reality of Caribbean Canadians is annoying, I’ll take it. It informs who I am and allows me to live in technicolour rather than a bland Canadian hue.