My niece often tells me that I am too patriotic, that I love my country too much. She says it when she sees how much I bend backwards to serve my country, especially when there is no support, no resources and no interest shown by governments. But I can’t help it. I have no identity crisis. I know where I belong and loving my country, with all its flaws, frustrations and beauty, is part of who I am.
Years ago, when I studied in England, my mentor, Professor Brinsley Samaroo, came to visit. He listened quietly while I told him how much I loved doing research in the UK because everything was so organised. Then he told me, “Don’t get too comfortable, you have to come back home and serve your country.”
That’s exactly what he and other intellectuals such as Professor Kenneth Ramchand did. They studied, worked and travelled outside of T&T but they came back, served with pride and contributed to national development.
I spent the last two weeks in Fiji, attending a conference on the history of Indian indentured labourers (Girmitiyas) and facilitating a series of research workshops at Pacific Polytech. At every part of my stay, I found myself comparing T&T to Fiji, analysing and thinking deeper about T&T’s society, economy, culture and identity. Spending time outside of T&T can do that to you—you become an unofficial ambassador. It is a huge responsibility, for the stories I choose to tell is how others will see T&T.
On the one hand, these past weeks have made me realise how much we take for granted. We speak so casually about a mosque, mandir and church which can exist in one community, sometimes even on the same street. On a general level, inter-racial and inter-religious relationships are becoming more common. Our challenge is to keep building on what we have now. We have come a long way from plantation days, when colonial structures were meant to divide the descendants of enslaved Africans and the Indian indentured labourers. However, we cannot become complacent; we need to encourage high levels of patriotism and national pride so that our country can continue to integrate and appreciate.
On the other hand, I wonder how we can help younger generations feel a deep sense of belonging and purpose. Too many leave and never look back. Too many of our citizens who live right here in T&T spend their days online complaining about everything that is wrong, without even considering what they can do to make T&T better. On social media, I see “influencers” who claim to love our country but use their platforms to promote hatred and division. For me, it’s very simple—you cannot love T&T while despising its people. Patriotism and prejudice cannot coexist!
Our diversity is not a threat, it is, in fact, our greatest strength. It is what allows us to celebrate Divali and Christmas as well as Carnival and Eid. It is because of our diversity that we have the rhythm of the tassa and the beat of the steelpan. It is because of our diversity that we can boast of inter-religious marriages, that a Hindu child can attend a Presbyterian primary and a Roman Catholic secondary school (like I did). Trinbagonians take this for granted. Many think that the freedoms we experience and live are just as easily found in other societies. But that is not always so, and the world is becoming more divided.
How then, do we get citizens to feel a deep sense of belonging and national identity so that they can coexist without bashing or pulling down, feeling insecure and threatened by others? Recently, I noticed that whenever there were posts of Navratri and Divali, there were many comments on accepting Jesus Christ as the only Lord and Saviour, that Hindus worship idols and these celebrations are evil, etc. It appears as though too many citizens cannot accept that T&T is a multi-religious nation and all religions deserve a space in the national landscape.
The only way to change entrenched attitudes in our society is through education. In fact, education is the only and most powerful tool we have that can shape minds and build a more united country. That is why we must maintain a curriculum that promotes an understanding of our country’s history—not the edited version where we seek to rewrite it in the name of tribal and political allegiances. We need to teach our history from the level of pre-school all the way to secondary school. Our history should not be treated as an afterthought or a burden. Too often, we push it aside like a bastard child. Instead of bringing it alive in the classrooms, we reduce it to a list of dates and names to be memorised.
If we want younger generations to respect diversity and stand against prejudice, we cannot wait for them to become adults. We need to start the conversation while they are young, in their classrooms. My love for T&T is not blind. It is the kind of love that has led me to teach history, fight for inclusion and become an ambassador when I travel abroad. It has given me identity and purpose and as long as I have a voice, I will use it to serve, to teach and to love T&T fiercely.
