To tell the story of my family's immigration to the United States, I first have to rewind about a century ago, to a little island, the easternmost island in the Caribbean; Barbados. My great-grandmother was a slave, who fell in love with her owner. When she became pregnant, the love of her life had to return back the England, leaving her behind as well as his unborn child (my grand-mother), a lump sum of money and land all over the island. Fast-forward. My grand-mother married and had kids of her own, eight to be exact, one being my mother. My mom, aunts and uncles spent the majority of their lives in Barbados; school, college, starting their careers. Until, one of my uncles got into a tragic car accident and the doctors in Barbados couldn't provide the proper care. As a result, my uncle was flown out to the United States. He survived, and I believe it was the little flash of life, that feeling of hopelessness that sparked in my oldest uncle to pack up the entire family and move to the United States for better opportunities. Although my grandmother did not agree, five of her children took off to United States to put down some roots. After getting settled in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, NY, they sent of my mom (who was pregnant with me) and the rest of the family. Today, after living in New York for about 30 years, my grand- mother and my oldest aunts and uncles has retired and moved back to Barbados, living on the very same land given to our great-grandmother by the love of her life.

– OG

Relationship:  Child of im/migrant Child of im/migrant