Maltese | Jamaican
My Mum was born in Malta and moved to Dover, Kent when she was younger. My Dad is Jamaican, born in the UK and grew up in Brixton. My Mum passed away when I was 3, so I never grew up with the privilege of indulging in her side of my heritage, though I spent many years forcing myself to love olives! My Mum was 19 and Dad 30 when they met in a rehab centre, in North London. It was about three weeks later into their treatment that I was conceived there. When I was around 15/16 I asked my Dad how he had met my Mum. I never thought to ask, so he never thought to explain. Though rehab doesn't sound like the most romantic or glamorous place to meet, it sounded like they had a lot of fun. From mountain hikes, to kayaking; they did everything together. My Dad said that my Mum was the first to run and jump off a huge cliff into water, whilst he would calmly stand well away from the edge.
Up until now, I have never admitted on social media that my parents met in rehab, so perhaps this is a hidden part of my identity that I've chosen to keep private. I've never been ashamed of their love story, more conscious of how people would respond if it ever came up in conversation. They met through addiction and loved through addiction. So, in a weird, dysfunctional way I have a lot of gratitude for addiction. I will never diminish my parent's void; how can we judge how people deal with their trauma?
My background has certainly influenced my poetry and spoken word. I find the process of fleshing out my identity to be very grounding. As it's taken time for me to understand it, it takes time for me to translate it into art. So, I enjoy the patience it requires.
I have been a nomad all my life but not out of choice. I moved out of London when I was 10 and travelled through an 11-year voyage around the UK. That's what I call it anyway. I've lived in Scarborough, Blackpool, Cardiff, Peterborough, Guildford and back to hometown London. The search for belonging was difficult in each place, for many different reasons. Some lacked diversity, some lacked an open mind and some lacked a warm welcome.
Though London has been where I've discovered most of myself, it has thrown me its curveballs. I've been met with a lot of ‘you don't look like a Lateshia’ and ‘you sound too well spoken for your name’ and ‘you're so exotic’. Growing up I never knew how to answer those statements. Did people want me to say thank you? Did they think they were being complimentary? I understand my privilege in not being victim to overt, racial abuse. However, I have regularly experienced covert, othering and exotifying behaviours. In spite of this, I enjoy being ambiguous. I enjoy the guessing game. I enjoy being a mystery.
I was a late bloomer with holidays. I didn't get my passport until I was 21. I've not yet visited Malta or Jamaica, but they are next on the list.
If I was to be reborn, I probably wouldn't change a thing. I know the universe has my back. It will grace me with pain I don't understand and struggles I may never accept. Through this turbulence, I will always meet myself.
I've never met anyone else who is Maltese/Jamaican. I was 19 when I met another person from Malta. I was so happy! They told me about typical Maltese dishes and I remember rushing home to google them. Malta has become a tourist attraction in the last 3/4 years, so many of my friends have been and said they loved it!