By 
Recently, I publicly wrote about two issues: a ‘biased’ entity that is in charge of investigating acts of discrimination (https://www.kaieteurnewsonline.com/2024/11/13/the-erc-itself-needs-more-training-on-how-to-be-impartial/) and victimisation by education officers (https://www.stabroeknews.com/2024/11/15/opinion/letters/my-letters-to-the-media-have-contributed-to-improvements-in-annandale-secondary-school-for-which-i-am-now-a-target/). For both matters I used my own experiences not hearsay or opinions I pulled out of thin air.
Two individuals I’m acquainted with briefly commented on my letters, and what they said felt more like insults than observations/criticism. Both said that nobody would feel pity for me and one went further by saying that people would laugh at me. What I found insulting was the fact that these persons believe that I write about issues (personal and in general) publicly because I want people to pity or like me and care about whether they would laugh at me or not! It’s as if they believe that I am a superficial being who writes because I seek the approval and acceptance of others. They reduced me and I felt insulted.
If I truly cared about what others think about me I would never open my mouth or pen a line publicly because as an Indo-Guyanese female, I am expected to be a silent, invisible, subservient person whose sole purpose in life is to make roti, cook curry, clean, be a willing victim of abuse and if capable of ‘thought’ use my intelligence to defend myself against accusations of engaging in immoral behaviour such as ‘liking’ men, talking to men and engaging in ‘wickedness’. This is the society I live in and what a ‘good’ Indian female is expected to be. Also, I have been surrounded my entire life by silent, submissive and invisible brown women.
For me, writing is more than an act of rebellion, it is giving myself a voice and if I don’t do it for myself, I will remain just another silent, brown woman because nobody is going to ‘allow’ me to have a voice. And writing is also self-therapy particularly when I write about negative experiences. It’s like by putting on paper how I felt and what happened to me I’m releasing all those negative emotions and memories associated with the experience.
I grew up and still live in an environment where I’m not allowed to speak. If something bothers me I’m expected to keep it bottled up inside and just carry on like normal and usually when I attempt to speak I’m shot down, criticised for speaking or ignored. And it’s not just a family thing, it’s the wider society. People just don’t know how to communicate and don’t want to listen either. Everything is superficial and yet, ever so often one reads about young people committing suicide and I am confronted by the mental health crisis in the country every time I go to Georgetown. Many persons suffering from mental illnesses roam the streets endangering themselves and others. I believe that people find themselves overwhelmed by problems with nobody to talk to and seek guidance from. People simply don’t care, actually enjoy seeing others suffer, judge them or don’t know how to have normal conversations about things that matter.
For instance, I have a friend who calls me every day to chat and we often go out together. So we’d talk about a bunch of frivolous things: sales, neighbourhood gossip etc, yet every time I attempt to add more substance to a topic my friend would say that she needs to use the bathroom or has to do something else. For example, she mentioned a girl we know hooking up with an older man and drinking alcohol at a bar. I attempted to start a discussion on how these men prey on girls and thus deny them a normal childhood/young adulthood and that the girl should be exposed to more age-appropriate activities etc. She behaved as if I was boring her and that’s her usual reaction if the surface of any issue is prodded. Gossip, superficiality and that’s just it! No substance or going beneath the surface plus she doesn’t want to hear ‘negative’ news either like many others probably because the interaction would require greater emotional involvement and thinking.
I find myself surrounded by superficiality; story of my life. Or maybe it’s just my perspective and not actually what is there, who knows… Yet I don’t believe I am seeing things entirely one-sided like that time when ‘everyone’ assumed that I attempted suicide yet nobody had the balls (for lack of a better word) to ask me what really happened (https://lifeingy.com/my-experience-with-bullying/). That would have required ‘too much’ involvement and emotions and there are many other examples to throw out.
So I went off topic with my other ramblings but that’s just the direction the mind decided to take. Bottom line, I write for myself and I don’t give a rat’s behind about what others think. If I did, I wouldn’t be who I am and the only thing that can change me is death.
