listen to the sea wash over yoru feet, smell the salt in the air.. become one with me

Archipelago.

No man is an island, but I...Am an archipelago. I am a group of so many islands.

Arched as if holding my weight in my bent arms. I am made of many. My parents always told me, “friends don’t make a man.”, But I am a girl...learning to be a woman, step by painful step. My friends never made me, but they helped to shape me. As I grew, from my little self, I adopted the attitudes of the first woman in my life, a woman who is still a queen among women, my mother. I behaved as she did, and if I could I would try and wear the same style of clothing as she. But my mother always stressed the fact that I was an individual, ringing the words of Annie John’s mother, “You can’t go through life looking like a little me.”. So...I tried to be an individual, and she encouraged me. Finding out I leaned toward being an “artsy person”, I was encouraged to take Gymnastics, Modern Dance, Karate and Drama in my primary school years. I never stayed long. Always people, because of people I shied away from participating, people who to me I couldn’t deal with, people who teased, disliked or were just out to get me. I dropped out. My curve developed, as more islands were added. People I came into contact with, friends, enemies, the quiet people who would talk to no one, they shaped me. I grew quieter. During an attempt at a drama group, I stayed all of 3 months, before I decided, If they thought my older brother would never “fit in” (their words...never mine) I didn’t need to stay.

Always there were people who hated me, teased me, helped me. It was an experience, being one of the few black people in my primary school and it didn’t help that I had an accent. I grew, shaving bits off my personality that caused me to seem stuck up and prideful. I then believed I would talk to anyone...If they talked to me first. Always I was afraid my input wasn’t welcome, that I may have seemed to be showing off. I grew, I withdrew. Always, family was important to me. I chose my friends, not as wisely as I would have liked to think. I grew. High school, then I froze. Wondering how I should be, wondering if I should pretend to be “cool” so I could fit in. But I didn’t...I was me. I am proud to say it. I am a Hillarian, but bishops wasn’t where I did all my growing. Thank god for the in blue across the savannah. My brother went to that school, and his friends, along with that school adopted me, providing me with more brothers that I could ever need. I became a scout.(and still am one.) And I blossomed. They gave me all I could ever need to be an individual. Never once did I feel I had to belong. I was in a family.

I made friends, fell hopelessly in love, made enemies who became friends, learnt to work together with the most insufferable people, learnt to never take myself too seriously, I learnt to grow again. Years later one of my boyfriends pointed out to me, “Do you realise most of your friends are social outcasts?” Needless to say we didn’t last too much longer, but it caused me to look at my friends. The same friends who I considered so close they were almost family. I realised we were mostly outcasts, perhaps and luckily I may have been the best off out of the lot. There were anti- social, suicidal, death metal, alcoholic, gay, nymphomaniac, Satan worshipping, manic depressive, gothic (use the common negative version), Buddhist, tormented artist types. Hopefully I forgot no one, and everyone “normal” avoided them. They helped me grow, as I helped them, and I saw both sides of the argument, and learnt to have an open heart, and mind. As I earned their trust and friendship, there I learnt to explore myself, and see the beauty in things that seemed ugly on the outside. I learnt that people are on the inside. Still I grew. Boyfriends came and went, teaching me that I shouldn’t trust everyone who seemed to like me. Friends came and went even slower, showing me that there were some that I couldn’t save. But like the common student there are some lessons I refused to learn. Constantly I thrust myself into the fire I believed that I could help people...even those who were only with me for as long as the ride was smooth. I know who my friends are even as I curl up sucking on my burnt fingers. My friends turned out to be the same people most of you wouldn’t give the time of day. Good Friendships got better. My sisters were constant. Not sisters of my parents...but sisters of my spirit. Still we grow closer.

I left Bishops through fault of my own, and I grew unhappy as I re-sat exams. I pulled within myself cutting ties with the world that I so revelled in. Still I found out who my friends were as some people worried..and others didn’t care. It is strange, that not even two months before there were people who would spend a week at my home, and would swear they were the best of friends, How quickly they vanished. How quickly they didn’t have time for me. Where others tried the best they could with me. I spent those nine months exploring myself and learning, but still mourning, as I wouldn’t allow myself to see further than my own misery, wallowing in the now, instead of the future. CXC came and went and still I grew, islands dotted my seas as my world grew touched by everyone I came into contact with and took the time to listen to. Even those who forced me to listen to them. I left the halfway house I sat my exams in, and I went to work. Just for the summer, just till I knew what I was doing. The night before I wondered what It would be like. Older people are so much harder to gave than the young people. I had been out of circulation for so long, would I ever cope? The first day of work I forgot all about my worries and I settled down in documentation. Another family of islands added. Thank God.

I lost my only sibling that summer, I lost him to education as he stepped on a plane and went to college. He is going to be a pilot. I carry a picture of him after his first solo flight in my wallet, I will show it to you if you ask. For the first time in my life. I was alone. I cried once after he left. Only once because I realised where there was two there was only one, I still kinda miss him, when I wake up in the middle of the night and need someone to talk to till I fall asleep. I miss hearing about his days...and how he feels. But I haven’t really lost him. As I realised that he was still there in spirit. The night before he left I had the privilege to be witness to one of the greatest displays of love for a person I have ever seen. We had a party for him. Over 200 young people, from all walks of life came, to wish him farewell. There were tears shed, there was laughter, most importantly there was no fighting. Aunties who knew my brother as her grew said. “This party isn’t just for you young people.” and they came to and everyone mingled. They left, the house was clean...the couch was broken, but everyone felt good after the night was over. Results came, I went to get mine with one of my newest but closest friends, Munki. We both weren’t very satisfied, but at least I did better, I had another subject to tack onto my full certificate, my 3's upgraded to 2's, I still had my 1. Hopeful, I applied to my alma mater, and I had a back up school. The day I went to apply to my backup school I realised I had to go back the next day..I didn’t have my birth certificate. At lunchtime my aunt’s cell rang, and she returned to the car, beaming. I was back in Bishops. And still I grow. Friends rejoice as I do, and I mourn with friends for others. And still Islands surface, as I grow, and as the islands that help make me grow. Soon I won’t be an archipelago. I will be the world.