HOW would you define your identity? Would you describe it as your physical characteristics? Is it based on your culture and heritage? Or perhaps, could it be a combination of both? In this small but incredibly diverse region called the Caribbean, identity (particularly identity based on one’s culture) remains a conversation with an elusive conclusion.

I’ve been in Trinidad for just over two months, and during that time there have been countless occasions where I wished I was back home in Guyana. Candidly speaking, this is largely because cooking for myself all the time is- as we say in standard millennial vernacular- not it, chief. Last week, however, a friend from back home asked me if I was counting down the days until I would be back home for Christmas and, for the first time since being here, I realised that I did not find myself yearning to be back home as much as I did before.

At my Hall of Residence, I’m known for my Guyanese-ness (which, in no small part, is attributed to my obnoxiousness resulting from Team Guyana’s success in their recent cricketing exploits). And this isn’t something that specific to just me or most regional students for that matter. We’re a minority on campus, but it is not uncommon to find us being involved in, literally, every activity- particularly those presented by and/or for other regional students.

Perhaps we do this because we understand that we are ambassadors for our country during our time away, and it is our civic duty to be the best ambassadors of the country we hold so dearly. Or perhaps, this is how we maintain our sense of identity, while away from home. And, for me, being surrounded by the promotion of Guyana and being immersed in a shared Caribbean culture has caused me to ‘feel at home’.

It just so happened that this past week, as well, the concept of a ‘Caribbean Identity’ and how we define what it means to be a Caribbean person was the focus of my Caribbean Civilisation lecture. Abrahim Khan (1996), in his study: “Identity, Personhood, and Religion in the Caribbean context”, postulated that there are two dimensions of identity. The first is the fact of identity, which one’s characteristics are shared and fixed objective attributes; and the second is the sense of identity, which involves who one sees themselves and the world.

Being at the University of the West Indies (UWI) has led me to understand that I may very well be part of a privileged few, because I am exposed to more liberal ways of thinking which leads to question (inter alia) the ways in which the Caribbean region, as a whole, approaches development in all facets. And, I’ve come to believe that the development of this space is intrinsically tied to that ‘sense’ of Caribbean-ness or identifying ourselves as Caribbean people.

Khan noted, “To talk, however, about Caribbean identity or any national cultural identity for that matter, is to refer to fact identity and not necessarily sense identity.” Drawing from Khan it was quite easy for me to be proud of my Guyanese identity because that is readily my “fact” identity, but before now, I was not able to readily cloth myself in my Caribbean “sense” identity. So then, how easy would it be for us (Caribbean people) to clothe our national identities, with a more regional one, in the interest of the entire region?

In black and white, the concept of ‘One Caribbean’ and ‘Regional Integration’ seems like the ideal solution to advance the entire region’s development. But this begs the question, how then do we easily integrate our nations, which, although they have similar underpinning socio-economic, political and cultural tenets, are still largely very individualised?

In my opinion, this is where the brilliance of making Caribbean Civilisation a compulsory foundation course at UWI shows itself. In the few short weeks I’ve been exposed to this course, more and more I’ve come to appreciate the interconnectedness of the Caribbean and how our individual experiences have shaped our regional reality. Think for a minute about what the region would be like without Haiti’s struggle and subsequent independence, or what the region would be like if the West Indies Federation did not fall apart. What would the landscape of the Caribbean look like without the dynamics of the sugar plantations and the various immigration schemes?

I don’t have the answers to many of these questions, but I do hope that I can use my privilege of being here to learn more, not only in the interest of Guyana but in the interest of the Caribbean. And at least right now, for certain, I’m discovering that my Caribbean identity goes hand in hand with my Guyanese identity.