Growing up American with Jamaican parentage (or Jamerican) has been quite the trip. My earliest memory of my “heritage difference” is of being in a middle school music class and being asked by a group of my peers to, “say something in Jamaican.” Confused, I stared at them and tried to explain that “Jamaican” was not a language, but what they probably meant to say was “Patois.”
If you are interested, Jamaican Patois, according to Wikipedia, is an “English-based creole language with West African Influences” or the love-child language of West Africans mixed with British English, Scots and Hiberno-English. Not to be confused with French-based creole languages such as Louisiana Creole and Antilian Creole.
All that to say, my speech fell on deaf ears.
From that point forward, my understanding of what it meant to be a 2nd gen Jamaican in American involved 1) Believing that everyone would love me because of Bob Marley and “One Love” and 2) Learning that lots of people had a Jamaican boyfriend, lover, or ex-husband that did them wrong so they immediately associate Jamaicans as being the devil incarnate.
All that to say, I’ve had many a conversation in and outside of the United States where I hesitantly respond to the question “So where are you from” when what the questioner really meant was “So what kind of black are you” by saying “My parents are from Jamaica.” Notice how I never usually self-associate with Jamaica. Just. In. Case. Which brings me to the premise of this post:
Recently, two Jamaican women came into the store where I work. I went onto the sales floor to assist them and, feeling comforted by their familiar cadence and mannerism, I chit-chatted with one of the women amicably. When they had left, my co-worker came up to the back and asked if either my boss or I had found those women to be kind of rude. I was confused because I had, in fact, thought that the owner had been rude to one of the women. Going so far as to correct her “bad slang” as he put it, right to her face.
So I said, “no” and went on to say that, “since I am Jamaican, I am used to “it”. In my eyes, what was seen as rudeness was just a person being more direct in comparison to the “normal” or “common” mannerisms found in our little, ultra-pc corner of the United States.
The conversation took a turn for the crude when the owner berated “all Jamaicans”, listing past negative interactions with Jamaicans he had hired to work on his house. Being fairly comfortable talking about race and cultural differences, I agreed with some of his points, but commented that these same criticisms could truly be said of anyone from any culture particularly when one views them as “the other”.
The irony of the situation was not lost on me though. According to the owner and my coworker, among the strikes against the women, and Jamaicans in general:
1) the women were rude and
2) their English was not “proper”.
In their opinion Jamaicans, as an entire people, were rude (aka not cultured enough by a U.S. standards to display socially acceptable mannerisms and speech). Enter scathing comments about the function of HR in companies, old boys club, the need for cultural sensitivity training, and several eye rolls here__________.
Funny enough, during my time working at this shop I had come to understand that 1) The owners had a tendency to be rude and overly pushy to customers (as is referenced by past workers who can’t believe I’ve stayed this long and a few rather poetic Yelp reviews) and 2) Many customers had their fair share of English faux pas with the owner, involving the “what are you saying” lost in translation dance. As has been witnessed by me. A truly common occurrence in any conversation with anyone speaking English, native or not.
The funniest affront of all was when the owner stated that “any other person from the Islands or sub-continent of American he had met were way nicer.” It took all my might to not laugh in his face and further prove the stereotypes he had already formed about Jamaicans.
As a global citizen and a generally curious person, I have found that any person can be mean and any person can be nice no matter where you are in the world and no matter what that person’s background. It all depends on the day, hour, and the mood you catch one in. I will further punctuate this statement by admitting to my own personal bias:
I have been to my fair share of Jamaican parties. The music tends to be loud and things tend to be bumping until well into the evening. Living in the U.S., I have been acculturated to believe that all black people were loud (never mind that I am a generally soft-spoken person myself). I went to Jamaica for a wedding and came to find that Jamaica was a land largely full of individuals who spoke so softly, you had to incline your head and bend in order to hear what many were saying.
Moral of the story: You should eat your stereotypes because, as with many things in nature, there are no absolutes and there are always exceptions.
People live with stereotypes and stereotypes are what keep us from asking “why” all the time. It is worth it to say that every culture has it’s quirks and it’s really up to the outsider to acculturate themselves to those who live on the inside. The only alternative being to exist rigid and inflexible and constantly bitching about how different everyone else is. While some may see the forward nature of Jamaicans (and countless other cultures) as rude in comparison to some U.S. standards, it is something that I pride myself in while recognizing that I occasionally have to reign in my pan face honesty and directness at times, or risk dealing with the aftermath of constantly offending people.
My directness has allowed me to boldly (really more nonchalantly) say, “no” to unwanted advances in the club while I have watched in annoyance and confusion as my club-going companions dance with people that they don’t even like for 20-30 minutes (or longer) in silent agony because they, “thought it was rude to say no.” Be it cultural differences or a difference in parenting style, this is a trait that I would not give up for the world, and am just fine turning it up, or down, based on the situation.
It all comes down to recognizing that what is rude for one group of people is not even on the radar for others and vice versa. To some, it would be unthinkable to let a person walk down the street with their skirt tucked into their undies by accident, or for someone to walk around with their zipper down. Unfortunately, I have been in situations where knowledge of such embarrassing events is whispered about behind hands in hushed tones because it was too embarrassing to even talk about. It just takes one “rude”, outspoken, vivacious person to run up to the oblivious individual of ridicule to save them from further social ruin by bringing up something socially taboo.
Every culture has its do’s and don’ts and if you care to know them and take the time to set assumptions aside and listen to other points of view, you may find that those things you thought were rude, unfeeling and (worst of all) “uncivilized” serve an invaluable purpose, and are not that big of a deal at all.
Caia Rose 