Just like in Charlotte Street

Published: 
Monday, September 11, 2017

I’ll tell the story from where it started. With the full 2 am flight from Piarco to Newark last weekend. By 10, I was in Brooklyn, in my Tobagonian friend’s mother’s apartment in Ebbets Field, the enormous public housing complex gubernatorial aide Carey Gabay’s shooter fired from, a killing that now defines New York City’s Caribbean Carnival. A friend in New Jersey tried to panic me the night before the flight about staying there. But all over central Brooklyn, from my 21st-floor window, or on the street, I saw fearless White settlers, their baby carriages, dogs and bicycles, brand new buildings, even a Starbucks on Franklin Avenue...

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  • "The Migrants like artefacts fossilised in whatever year they'd arrived."

    The first time I made that observation around the LABOUR DAY CELEBRATIONS (represented by the varied music I heard from block to block) it was an introspective experience for me. And I have on occasion tried to relate the FIXATION to others from time to time without much reaction from the listeners. But seeing someone else make the same observation with such literary flair certainly tickles my TRINI SENSIBILITIES.

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