June 21-2007:
My Emigration To America!
Preface:
This is an attempt to re-capture my formative years as a child growing up in British Guiana, my entrance into the world of work, my spate of service in The Guyana National Service Institution, Trade Union Activism & eventual emigration to The U.S.A.
The Neighborhood Where I Was Born & Grew Up!
I was born a raised in Charlestown-Georgetown-Demerara, British Guiana. Son of Ms. Enid Patricia Griffith. As a child I attended The Carmel R.C. School up to fifth standard, then left to enter the job market. This neighborhood is typical of most neighborhoods at that period in the City of Georgetown. It consisted of a multi-ethnic array of residents, many of whom could trace their ancestral lineage from that same neighborhood. I have also learned in time, that most residents who lived there for long periods, would not move out, unless it was vitally necessary to do so. Because the rents remained very stable over very long periods.
Most of the friendships that I made attended my school from kindergarten to elementary levels, up to the fifth standard. The school that I attended from kindergarten to secondary level, was in the same neighborhood, and occupied the same real estate or property. So it was not necessary for me to leave one school, to attend another one at another location, like so many of today's beginners.
This decision was taken after deliberation within myself, based on the harsh realities at home for survival. We were very poor, my mother struggled without a male (father figure) to support us financially. You see, I was the only male out of five children, Patricia (the eldest), Derryck (that's me), Valerie, Eulyn, and Eileen Griffith. We were all conceived 'out-of-wedlock. I was told on several occasions by my mother that my father disappeared when I was at the tender age of three. He left one day after visiting my mother to return to take me to see a 'cricket match' at the local stadium, but never came back since!
My First Day In Kindergarten:
I could recall my very first teacher in kindergarten too. Her name Miss Fraser. She was a very fat and short in stature, with a booming and high pitched voice. She also had her children attend the Carmel R C. School also. It was one of the Roman Catholic schools that was targeted by residents in and around Charlestown, Albouystown, and Werk-En-Rust neighborhoods.
So if you grew up in any one of those neighborhoods, chances are that you would attend the Carmel RC School too. There was also St. Philip's School, (an Anglican School), and the Dolphin Government School. These were the primary levels. Then there was the Central High School ( a private school), Chatham High School, St. Stanislaus High School, (A Catholic High School), and the Muslim Educational Trust School. All of these schools competed for pupils, and overtime, each one developed a reputation for academic proficiency, respectability, and most desired, in that neighborhood.
I never got beyond the sixth standard level. I was barely able to study some O Level type courses at the G.E.C. level. Because circumstances at my home caused me to leave school at the fifth standard, in search of employment. This I did reluctantly, but I had to make a choice at that time between eating at home on a regular basis, or not eating on a regular basis, if I continued in school. Reasons being that my mother was the only provider economically at home. There was no male or father figure that she could depend on for financial assistance. So the burden of supporting and providing for five children was solely on my mother's abilities and endurance.
My Employment History:
I left Primary School at 16, and sought employment with The Guiana Lithographic Co. Ltd. It was one of The Booker Group of Industries in the colony of Guiana. This was a printing and box-making business that catered primarily to the Service Oriented Industries. There I worked as an 'In House Office Boy/Messenger' for a weekly wage of $11.25 cents per week. (8 hours per day). From Monday to Saturday. Saturday's were from 8.00 am to 12.00 Noon. I worked there for five years, before I was eventually retrenched or (given the boot), after some organizational restructuring was done.
I worked at several jobs subsequently, for example, The Ministry Of Information & Culture: The General Post Office: J.P.Santos (a private business enterprise): The Guyana National Service, and finally The National Insurance Scheme from 1977 to 1989. During my years of employment I tried to gain as much knowledge as was available to me. I did a one year stint at The University Of Guyana (Soc.100) Sociology & Political Philosophy.
Attended several training courses sponsored by The Guyana T.U.C. (Trades Union Council); because I was also an ardent representative of workers rights/shop steward, rising to the level of 'Branch Secretary of The Amalgamated Transport & General Worker's Union, (A.T.& G.W.U.) at the N.I.S. Branch.
Pollard's Govt. Aided Self-help Housing Group: "Meadow Brook Gardens."
This was a period in my life that today is still very painful to talk about, much less write about. But it must be written, and it can only be written by me, for I am the only survivor of that experience capable of explaining it, because I was personally involved throughout the entire project!
Sometime in the 1960's my mother who was a member of a group of individuals that wanted to own their own home, was eventually given the opportunity to realize it from the then P.N.C. government headed by Prime Minister L.F.S.Burhnam. This Housing Project was one of several that was implemented by the government, to aid poor people in attaining homes with State assistance. This concept was called the 'self-help' or co-operative approach for building homes. Several groups were called in, lands were identified for each group to build houses on, accompanied by a government Supervisor/organizer for official guidance & supervision of building materials.
We were called 'Self-helpers' and toiled day and night for over two years in the building process. The work was dreadfully hard for me as a child. My Mom had to fool the authorities about my age (because minors) were not allowed to help in the building of these homes. I suppose several members of our group knew that I was under-age, but no one 'snitched.' We were all poor people, and desperate to have a home to call our own! In the rainy days and nights that followed, fighting the mosquitoes, gnats, and coping with the flooded lands that we were given to build on. We toiled relentlessly until it's completion.
The going was very rough for the women especially among us. The men often made them feel in-adequate by saying they were not pulling their weight, and the men had the BRUNT of the work to shoulder. The supervisor in his capacity as overseer, then would try to pacify these contentions as he sees fit, by encouraging UNITY and camaraderie among us. This helped greatly to alleviate many quarrels from getting out of hand or physical.
Our homes were eventually completed in 1978, the keys handed to each resident at a Total Cost then of 3 to 4,000.00 Dollars per Unit. Payable in monthly installments of $25.00 dollars to The Ministry Of Housing, (Housing Dept). We moved in, all five of us. My Mom (Enid, me, Valerie, Eulyn, Eileen, with the exception of my eldest sister Patricia, who was at that time lready married and living with her husband in Kitty Village, Newtown, Georgetown. My mom became ill some time afterwards from a heart condition, and subsequently died.
The burden of paying the monthly/rental payments fell upon me now. Before my mother died though, she never really liked being there. She complained that it was too far for her to get to, and it encroached upon her ability to continue gambling at the local horse-race betting shop. She moved in and stayed for a short time. After which she moved out again, and into a friend's home, with the excuse that she would be able to get personal help with her illness. Incidentally, this friend of hers "never gave us a dime," to assist with her burial, (her so-called friend)!
Some Facts About My Mother:
As far as I can recall, my mother never worked with anyone in her adult life, except for one time. She was offered a position in a Take Out Ice Cream Shop that was about to open. She was able to obtain this position from the owner, whom she knew. However, the job description was either never told to her, or she lied about it to us, (her children). However, after two weeks on the job, she left it saying that the supervisor wanted her to mop the floors, and that was not what she was expecting to do. And that was that!
The first time my mom was offered a job, and she left it because (in her own words), she was not prepared to do floors. My mom preferred to visit the Betting Shop (which she did on a daily basis), to bet on the horses. This was an obsession or addiction with her. She never won anything in the thousands though. At least as far as I know. But she was always hoping to 'Win Big' sometime in the future, that was always illusive.
My Emigration To The USA:
I emigrated to the USA in 1989, after serving at N.I.S. for over ten years. After ensuring that I accumulated the prescribed amount of contributions, that would make me eligible for a pension at sixty years of age. And that was 750, (or Seven Hundred & Fifty Contributions), as per N.I.S. regulations. I left Guyana on April-30-1989 to attend A Leadership Training Course at The George Meany Training Center, in Silver Spring, Maryland. Virginia. This was intended to be for the month of May-1989. But at the conclusion of this exercise, I remained here in America!
My Travel Visa:
The travel visa that I was issued with from the American Embassy in Barbados, in-transit to the U.S.A. allowed me to stay in America for only 'one month There was no work permit or extension allowed at completion, but a proviso that I should return to Guyana & serve my country or Trade Union for at least three years, before I can re-apply for a return visa to America to reside (if I so wish). Therefore, after over staying-violating my visa conditions, I automatically became illegal or (un-documented).
After which I sought legal advice and representation since 1994, and is still awaiting The Federal Government's approval for legal residence/Green Card Status! This process may take years to unfold, because America's foreign policies differ from country to country in relation to emigration quotas. Presently, under the National Security/Terrorist Act of 2002 it has become much more difficult to attain this status. With the new regulations of checks and counter-checks, it targets countries presumed to be Terrorist Havens. Incidentally, these regulations are being enforced, sometimes with impunity.
Coming To New York:
Growing up in Guyana, we are led to believe by most of our relatives abroad, that they would help us upon arrival in America or anywhere else for that matter. We are led to believe that we could count on them to assist family in times of dire need, because we are family, & family is supposed to help each other out at these times. Well, that's a fallacy for many of us, because reality very often contradicts this view.
I left Guyana after suffering emotionally, psychologically & mentally from the lack of socio-economic opportunities available to most Guyanese. Living in a depressing and mis-managed economy, coupled with political strife, and petty political squabbles indulged by our political leaders is the reality of life back home. One would expect that relatives who escaped this harsh reality would extend themselves to those left behind, whose ability to escape a similar fate is questionable, but obviously this is not the experience of most of us who encounter our relatives upon arrival in the land of opportunity.
I sought help in a form of accommodation from an acquaintance who was living on Long Island at the time. I moved in with my acquaintances shortly thereafter, and stayed for over two years. Eventually my friend complained that the burden of supporting me was becoming too much for her to bear and indicated that I should seek alternative accommodation. This situation was hinged upon the fact that I was encouraged to go 'shop lifting' with her relatives, and when I voiced objection, I was spurned, rebuked and insulted, and threatened with eviction from their home. It is important to note that I resided under what one might call oppressive conditions.
A few of the house rules included the fact that I was not allowed to return after midnight, as well as the fact that I was not allowed to receive visitors or friends. Albeit, I was un-documented, (illegal) in this country, with no job or prospects, so how could my fate be different given my circumstances? It is really amazing that the human conditions one can live through, void of options! Realizing that I was totally alone in this situation, desperate and homeless with no place to turn, I mustered all the internal strength and resolve that was necessary, and told myself that it is now 'do or die.' I had no intention of returning home to Guyana anytime soon. Primarily, I would be given another visa, I would lack the financial means it would require to return. I refused to allow myself to even remotely consider the possibility of wasting this opportunity of landing in America.
I was faced with the harsh reality of survival at any cost, so I took action. I was offered false documents from underground (illegal) sources for a considerable amount of American dollars. With this new identity I was able to temporarily seek employment, but was always fearful of being caught at anytime by the authorities. This cat and mouse game continued for some time. Being the product of a family that were law abiding people, who were respectful of the law and authorities. I harbored a great deal of guilt, shame and fear about getting caught at anytime. Reality be told, this perception of fear was merely a figment of my imagination, as no one ever approached me about my status!
Moving To New York City:
I moved to Manhattan-New York City in 1994, and sought advice from G.M.H.C. (Gay Men's Health Center), about Legal representation for my resident status. They agreed to be my Legal Advocate for the purposes of Immigration matters. And refer Clients who need Housing to agencies that deal with providing Housing for people in my situation in New York City's five boroughs.
After some disappointments in my search for several weeks, I was finally able to get a Studio Facility with the Bailey House Inc., housing facility titled Bailey-Holt House, situated in Manhattan-New York City. I moved into this single Apartment/Studio on October-30-1995. My rent is paid by The City of New York-Social Services Dept. And I get Public Assistance to help with my personal needs/affects.
I have residing there ever since. It was furnished with the basics, like a Refrigerator, a Television with Cable, a Single Bed, personal Telephone service, a couple of chairs and a coffee table. This housing facility has 44 Single Rooms/Studios, that are situated on four floors. We have the privilege of coming and going as we feel like it, internal security systems for residents, post box facilities, washers and dryers in the basement for residents, that can be accessed anytime for FREE. And visitation of guests any day or night of the week, with three overnight stays per week for any guest.
The resident population are varied in Ethnicity and personal needs. And our rents are calculated at 30% of our net income per month. This is also A City Subsidized Housing facility.
The Tribulations Of The Un-documented:
Being an un-documented person in America today could be a nightmare for anyone. The present Patriot Act. of 2002 gives The Immigration And Naturalization Department lots of power to arrest, detain and deport any un-documented foreigner without access to an attorney. They can be held indefinitely for long periods of time in 'A Detention Center' without access to an attorney, because under this law they have no legal rights.
If you test positive for HIV, the only medical help available to you is The Emergency Medical Unit at a Public Hospital. No prescription drugs are covered, or doctor's fees. Families invariably will not be inclined to keep you in their homes for fear that when you eventually become incapacitated, the bills will have to be paid by them. this is a serious matter as you the unfortunate individual find yourself in -a position where you cannot seek employment because you are illegal.
Therefore, you are unable to contribute to or provide for your up-keep. My Caribbean/Central and South American brothers and sisters are being infected with HIV/AIDS disease at a colossal rate, primarily through ignorance, (lack of knowledge), cultural, language barriers, social & religious stigma, as well as fear of accessing preventive services and counseling. This is the reality of life in America today for any illegal individual. I have sworn to voluntarily contribute my experiences and abilities, in helping to advocate for and on behalf of people living with HIV/AIDS and their families. This I started doing since 1997 in New York City, and the outer boroughs.
This activity involves lobby visits to Legislators, Congressmen/women in the NY State and Senate. It is my belief that we all have a role to play in the process of making sure that there is equity among the laws, regulations and policies that impacts the lives of all peoples.
It is important to state that there are thousands of Guyanese living in America that are legal residents, but for some reason are not inclined to become citizens. They are missing out on all benefits that citizens and naturalized aliens are entitled to. Their status renders them incapable of assisting all Caribbean People Of Color, from acquiring the political representation at the Polls, because without citizenship you cannot vote.
This situation is chronic among Caribbean & African nationals alike. They come to America, live for years, accumulate property, but seem satisfied with this precarious situation. That is why we do not have the political 'CLOUT' that is necessary to make things happen for our populations.
Derryck S. Griffith.
Educator-Advocate And Blogger.
http://my.opera.com/BringBaka/
G-mail: derryckgriffith
PS: Whatever The Human Mind Can Conceive And Believe-Could Be Achieved!
