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February 2012 Trinity Observer
A multicultural
success story

     What’s Your Story?

I was born in Port of Spain, Trinidad in 1964.  My parents are Oswald
and Barbara Fitzpatrick.  My father is from African descent and my
mother from East Indian.  This was considered a “mixed marriage”
and was generally frowned upon.  My parents survived the racism and
classism and have now been married for 56 years.  My father arrived
in the United States in 1968.  Shortly after, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
was assassinated.  My mother came one year later.  Trinidad is
located only 7 miles from the coast of South America near
Venezuela.  
     
A brief history of Trinidad teaches that in 1498 explorer Christopher
Columbus arrived and took possession. Trinidad remained a Spanish
possession from the 15th century until the British seized Trinidad in
1797 and negotiated a treaty with Spain. In the years following,
enslaved Africans were brought in to work on sugar plantations.  In
1802 Trinidad became a British colony.  

After the abolishment of slavery, thousands of indentured servants
were imported from India, China and the Middle East. In 1889, Britain
joined the smaller Tobago to Trinidad. The islands achieved
independence from England in 1962 and became the Republic of
Trinidad and Tobago in 1976.  A visit to Trinidad today would reveal
a multicultural melting pot made up of the descendants of settlers
from Europe, Africa, Asia, South America and the Middle East.  

My sisters and I arrived in America’s melting pot, New York City on
May 10, 1970. I can remember as a small child in the first grade
walking home from school with my sister Denise, who is two years
older.  We were teased every day because we had an accent and had
long braids.  Day after day, the teasing continued and later some
pushing and shoving.  My two older sisters were in high school and
they also faced the same discrimination.  Their lockers were broken
into and their property destroyed just because they were different.  
What was painful and surprising to us was most of the teasing and
hurtful remarks came from people who looked like us.  

In 1972, Boston prematurely began a program of desegregation in
the school systems without the benefit of training for its faculty and
staff.  At the age of 8, I got on a bus and went to a school that was
quite a distance from my home and entered a classroom where I was
the only person of color.  For two years I went to a school where the
teacher never called on me, never spoke to me on an individual basis
while my classmates stared and pointed.  In this environment, I was
not a successful student.  I kept my head down and never felt good
about myself.  These two early examples taught me that
discrimination and racism both are born out of ignorance and a fear
of the unknown.  In the first incident of discrimination, it was not about
my skin color, but my accent and my hair.  In the second incident of
racism, it was about my skin color.  

In 1973 my parents moved to a more diverse section of Boston
where I entered the 4th grade.  The classroom was filled with students
who were Asian, Latino, Caucasian, African American, Caribbean and
European.  I finally understood the quote from the Statue of Liberty;
“Give me your tired, your poor your huddled masses yearning to
breath free.”  In this ethnically and culturally diverse classroom, I was
able to breathe free among the masses. This is where I first
understood that we have more in common than not.  I wasn’t ignored
or overlooked; I mattered.

All these different little people were so much like me.  We were all
scared, looking for love and acceptance.  We looked into each other’
s eyes and saw similar emotions, similar fears and similar
experiences and we bonded.  In this environment, I became a
successful student.  I felt free and safe. This classroom would
become a vision of God’s kingdom on earth: a place where all would
gather together; a place where everyone mattered.

What is your story?  This month, it is my hope that we can begin to
share those stories which impacted the way in which we view the
world. Our stories have the power to break down walls and build up
bridges.   I would love to hear from you.


Blessings & Love,

                   Pastor Lawson

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