In Brooklyn, New York, I ran out of my brownstone when I heard the ice cream truck. In East Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania, I ran out of my house and jumped into my dad’s truck for the five-minute drive to the ice cream shop. I walked around the corner in Brooklyn to get Chinese food for dinner. My mom drove into the supermarket parking lot to buy ingredients for the night’s dinner. In Central Park, I ran around the grass. I sat on my deck, surrounded by nothing but trees.

I was 11 when I moved from the city to the suburbs. Which was not a good idea because my family and I were not Pennsylvanians. We were New Yorkers. What does that mean exactly? It meant that we were fast walkers, fast talkers who didn’t take shit from anyone, and if you were pushed, you pushed back. You had thick skin because you would never survive without a backbone in a city like that. They could smell fear from a mile away and quickly kick you to the curb with their right hand and a bacon egg and cheese sandwich on a roll in the other. I had to learn what it meant to live in the suburbs. It meant I had to stand at the bus stop, go to school at 7:00 in the morning, and join after-school activities. The Poconos were popular for their waterparks and ski resorts, so I went there often. I also hiked and ran. I was used to public transportation; instead of a school bus, it was the MetroBus. Instead of getting a MetroCard, I had to get a driver’s license. My mom and dad told me the suburbs would be good for me. They explained that “the city was getting worse,” and they didn’t feel comfortable sending me out “where anything could happen.” At the time, I didn’t understand what they meant. All my 11-year-old mind comprehended was my parents taking me away from my home. It also confused me because I thought my parents loved the city. But they only loved the 90s and early 2000s versions of New York City. 

My mom was born in Castries and raised in Marisule, Saint Lucia. She immigrated to the United States when she was in her early 30s. She went from summer year-round, and ocean breezes to the four seasons and sewer smoke. She grew up in an island paradise where everything was chill and relaxed, and people wore shorts and sandals daily. So when she moved to the big city, she had to learn how to adapt to her surroundings. I had to unlearn everything she had taught herself many years ago. But my mom reminisced about her upbringing and wanted that for me, so she replicated her Caribbean lifestyle in the suburbs. She thought it would best fit. My dad was born in Tennessee and raised in the suburbs of New York–Buffalo and Long Island, to be exact. However, once my dad entered his early 20s, he moved to Brooklyn. He wanted me to spend my 18 years there, but he was disappointed with the changes occurring, specifically gentrification. 

As I reflect on these two vastly different places where I grew up, I realize that I am a fast walker, a fast talker, and someone who stands up for myself when others try to put me down. But I also enjoy nature, relaxation, and silence. I don’t think this is just because I grew up in New York City and suburban Pennsylvania. I also believe that it has to do with the influence of my parents and where and how they were raised. Even though they’ve lived in the city for a while, they will have the same habits their hometowns instilled. No matter how far away you move from home, you will never escape it. It will never change and will always be ingrained in you. This will then be passed down to your children because even though they may grow up in a different area than their parents, it’s still home. I was capable of adjusting to different areas quickly. My parents were good at placing me in different environments, whether in the city, the suburbs, or the islands. However, even though I’ve lived in other places, I gravitate toward the city more because that’s where I spent my childhood and had the best memories of my life. I act a lot like my parents, ingraining me with their Caribbean and Southern values, but I’m also a city girl to the core. Never forgetting where I come from, but focusing on where I’m going.