You know that gesture black women do with their hands? The one where they splay their fingers at the side of the neck and rapidly twist their wrist from right to left? Usually in an expression of “Uh uh, it aint happenin. No way.”
Well, when I make an attempt to do it, people think I’m either drying my nail varnish or feeling hot.
And you know that hip-hop-like dance on the spot, where as one leg pushes down to the floor, the other one rises? I look like I need the toilet.
Don’t ask me to suck my teeth. It looks like there are strips of lamb stuck between my incisors.
Neck rolling? I look like I slept badly and need some Ibuprofen.
What’s ap girl?
My Trinidadian cousin used to collapse in hysterics whenever I tried to ‘talk ethnic’, especially if my sentence ended in ‘man’.
” You don’t even dress ‘black’ and you sound ridiculous.” she would tease.
One year, the Ex-Factor star, Rhydian was due to perform in a concert at our church, together with the London Community Gospel Choir.
I thought he was great, but my sister was bored. Then the L.C.G.C. began a manic version of ‘Swing Low Sweet Chariot’ and I sunk down in my seat, wishing desperately that somebody would come forth and carry ME home.
But I have learned to accept myself as God made me and to not try to fit in with the stereotype people expect.
That brings freedom.
Punjab vs. Jamaica
So, it is quite funny that I married an Asian man who, before becoming a Christian, used to worship Bob Marley. Thankfully for me, hardcore reggae was out of his system before we met. On the other hand, I love Bhangra. Has God got a sense of humour? Yea marn!