Where I Am From

A Poem of Heritage

Family photos from the ‘80s.

I am from laundry dried on the clothesline, Tropicana orange juice, and Johnson & Johnson’s baby oil.

I am from Vicks in the winter and school supplies bought at Woolworth before September.

I am from a three-story, green, attached house with a shed in the backyard that I wanted to make my room.

(Home was warm, comfortable, and smelled like love.)

I am from Dad’s starched shirts and Mom’s lemongrass tea.

I am from hopscotch, red rover, and “red light, green light, 1–2–3!”

I am from cucumbers, grown in our backyard alongside giant tomatoes, then sliced and salted in the kitchen.

I am from summers with Grandma and Grandad in Grenada and manners mattering.

I am from Johanna and Adina — the matriarchs of blood and faith.

I’m from the abundant affection of the women and the protective love of the men.

From “Jehovah Jireh,” Family Radio, and “God willing.”

I’m from faith in the face of want and tempests, facing the insane and unnerving with a peace that defies understanding.

I’m from Brooklyn and Grenada — from New York City and America — depending on who’s asking.