I OPENED a new google document and I stared at the blank screen trying to decide which of the very many, real, and ugly things I wanted to write about this week. My Trinidadian connection directs me to talk about anti-blackness in Trinidad and the protests against that, while my now-minimal social media engagement points me to masked insecurities and prejudice against another ethnicity (National Geographic, Gordon Ramsay and highlighting Indigenous culture). Maybe I should write about the exposure of predatory behaviour. After all of that, is there any space or energy left to talk about the scant regard for the COVID-19 pandemic or the election quagmire?

Over the past few weeks, my honesty and my willingness to ‘own up’ to things have been acknowledged as a “good” thing. However, I learnt (and learnt the hard way) that honesty and owning up to things just don’t cut it; it isn’t enough. Beyond being honest, I gather, there must be a commitment to learn and grow, an understanding that listening is key to solidarity and a willingness to simply, unlearn. In my head, I sound pretentious- borrowing these sentiments from the learned people I am guided by. But, I cannot escape the fact that these are crucial tenets, necessary to engender even an iota of positive movement.

Let’s take the case of police brutality and extra-judicial killings in Trinidad, for example. In discussing this, the occurrence of the wrongdoings cannot be divorced from the fact that they occurred in poor and/or working-class, black communities. When violence occurs in these communities, the narrative continues to be “is good fah dem” and labels of “thugs” and “thieves” are thrown around easily.

I watched the recent ‘Gary Griffith’ Livestream, which provided an update on the recent protests in Port-of-Spain, and the vitriol emanating from the comment section was… just disgusting. It amazes me how persons could blame a pregnant mother of five for being killed while protesting, as though being pregnant invalidated her right to protest unjust circumstances. We cannot ignore that she was killed. Her name was Ornella Greaves. It amazes me how quickly the conversation can shift from black folk and their allies protesting against a seemingly unaccountable and failed policing system, to one of ensuring that “lawlessness” is avoided. Allow me to borrow a sentiment expressed by a schoolmate here at the UWI- #ThatMakingAnySense?

I speak about Trinidad not just because I’m here and I’m privy to what has been happening, but because I can see what is happening in Trinidad as a parallel to what has been happening in Guyana. Let’s not fool ourselves into thinking that this doesn’t happen right in good ole GT.

For persons like myself (Indo-Guyanese), recognising our privilege we have by virtue of our race is something we would be conscious of. The police brutality in Morvant and other black communities would engender a completely different public opinion had it occurred in a traditionally Indo-Trinidadian area. It would be the very same conundrum if we juxtapose this wrongdoing in a traditional Indo-Guyanese community with it occurring in the ‘Agricolas’ or the ‘Buxtons’ of Guyana. The narrative shifts from police violence and extra-judicial killings being plain wrong, to one that seeks to elucidate who is or isn’t deserving of the violence meted out to them. Again, #ThatMakingAnySense? Unlearning those ingrained prejudices of who “deserves” this violence and terror is necessary. And if you can’t see the problem here, I don’t know what else to say.

There are a million other things wrong in my Guyana and elsewhere in the world, but that doesn’t change the fact that at the root of many (if not all) of these wrongs resides inherent and ingrained narratives which need to be questioned.

This past week, there has been a spotlight on sexual violence and predatory behaviour which begs us to revisit the privilege men hold and the prejudice we in society have for women and young girls– vulnerable and victims. We continue to victim-blame. We accuse women of gaslighting and ‘blowing things out of proportion,’ instead of interrogating the positions of power men hold, and how they abuse those.

There has also been the belittling of Guyana’s Indigenous peoples and their culture after this was highlighted on a medium that promises to draw global attention; something we should be proud of, but instead, we have opted to allow our prejudices to take hold. We continue to let our ethnic and racial insecurities get the best of us, instead of learning how to appreciate the richness in diversity.

I don’t express these sentiments as a mere afterthought in my column this week. Instead, I express them in an attempt to reaffirm my position that even an iota of positive change must be accompanied by a willingness to unlearn the bad and learn the good; a conscious decision to listen; and, a commitment to learn and grow.

Come on, Guyana. Come on.