Identity politics. I keep hearing that term in a negative context as if mainstream culture in Western countries isn’t identity politics in itself. It’s white culture (rooted in patriarchal, post-colonial, Christian, cis/heteronormative values—I’m sure I’m forgetting some systems here), no matter how much people try to deny white culture doesn’t exist.
Their power reaches far. White culture upholds and even enforces social rules, the approved history, and one-sided knowledge. White culture educates members of its society, instills in us its norms and values, forms of communication, binary systems of categorization, and so on. Their power reaches all, even the marginalized who have to sacrifice parts of themselves to be accepted by the status quo.
All these things make up culture, it also is the norm.
I discovered a song the other day. Lullaby by Sabiyha. It’s a short and sweet song written by a British-Guyanese woman to honor her nani (grandmother). The song starts with her nani, who sings a lullaby to her grandchildren: “do do ba ba do do, baba want to do do.”
When I heard her nani’s words, I was surprised. For over thirty years, I thought that lullaby was just a song my mother and grandmother sang (although with slight linguistic differences), just a song they had made up. I didn’t realize the lullaby was part of our cultural heritage, sung by Indo-Caribbean grandmothers and mothers around the world. Then the music starts, Sabiyha repeats the lullaby, and I teared up.
I experienced a whirlwind of emotions. I felt so deprived. I felt so connected. We don’t have mass media to represent us, telling us this is you, this is your culture, this is your norm. Growing up in the Netherlands and with American influences, I’ve never seen the Indo-Caribbean experience represented. Not on television, not in the movies, not in books, not in music.
However, I was taught Dutch lullabies through books and school and English lullabies through the media. Common knowledge I gained of these specific cultures early on in my life. But I only randomly found out about this Indo-Caribbean lullaby, decades late. Sure, I knew that lullaby was mine, part of me, definitely, but I thought I was alone in that. The lullaby had been an isolated experience, something shared between my sister, my mother, my nani, and me. Just as meaningful, of course. But learning that the lullaby was part of a communal experience beyond my household was another reminder of how early on marginalization happens, and how much generational wealth I might have missed out on.
Our stories, our history, our culture is hidden, forgotten, or unknown. Erasure is also part of the dominant, white culture. At least in Western countries.
Sure, in part that’s also because we have oral (hi)stories. We need people who honor and focus on certain aspects of their (marginalized) identity and connect that to the masses. More and more, I notice scholars, creators, artists, writers, individuals who are putting their energy into revealing our history and reclaiming our culture. Since our stories aren’t easily accessible through books or mass media, people have turned to the Internet and social media for archives through photos, videos, writing, podcasts.
It’s a new dawn, one I’m proud to be part of by sharing my own stories… but also by sharing that of others. If you’re interested in learning more about Indo-Caribbean culture, or if you want to understand (y)our (hi)story, then I recommend the hard work, the intelligence, and wealth found in the following online archives, communities, and websites:
The Cutlass Podcast: A progressive podcast and platform dedicated to the Indo-Caribbean community and descendants of indentureship.
Coolie Women: An archival project that honors women of indentured heritage throughout history. The page also offers a list of resources as an accessible starting point for those who are interested in learning more.
Hindostaans en Queer: Online platform that creates content and representation for and by Surinamese-Hindustani queers and their allies.
Jahajee Sisters: A survivor-centered gender justice organization for Indo-Caribbean New Yorkers. They aim to end violence through healing, organizing, and art activism. They host educational events and initiatives.
Queer x Indenture: A series that center the role of queerness, gender, sexuality in (post-)indenture stories.
Brown Girls Dissent: A platform founded on solidarity, liberation, expression, and equality to explore the intersectionality of race, gender, and identity. They are committed to diversity and inclusivity.
The Shakta Oracle: A Shakta Diaspora Daayini who offers spiritual healing through their reclaimed lens to BIPOC.
Hïvan Community: A culturally sensitive platform that supports girls and women within the Surinamese-Hindustani community on their way to emancipation.
Sarnami Bol: Online account that teaches younger generations (about) a variation of our heritage language.
The Brown Girl Diary: Nonprofit organization cultivating and collaborating with Indo-Caribbean women worldwide to create representation of our culture, identity, and experience.
Indo-Caribbean Women: A community space that focuses on the improvement of the sexual health of Indo-Caribbean women (including cis/trans women, non-binary, and femme folks).
Jore: An online magazine that celebrates and amplifies diaspora voices of South Asians, and hopes to inspire them to embrace authenticity.
There's so many more! We’re not homogenous, we’re a melting-pot of disparate rhythms and ideas spread across the world. Just within the Indo-Caribbean community, you'll find so much diversity and yet there's so much that unites us too... like the lullaby. I hope this small overview can serve as a cornerstone of generational wealth and cultural beauty. Of course, don’t forget to listen to Sabiyha’s “Lullaby.”
Natasja
Natasja is the owner of Natasja writes and unearth my roots, an online platform for communal healing through therapeutic writing.