I first saw him on my visit to the restaurant he and my friend work at. Just his head was visible from the little window that allows customers to see the kitchen, and the waiters to place the orders. I order eggs cooked in a Spanish style, a pretty dish with pink sauce around the plate. I tell my waiter (my friend Christian), that the food was great, and was different than anything I’ve had before. He laughs and says “Thanks, my dad made it!”. He calls out to his dad, who looks up and smiles when I give him a thumbs up for the great dish.
All posts by Sabeena Ramnanan
Caribbean Roots
I have finally decided to identify myself as being West Indian/Caribbean. For a long time I tried ignoring the question of what I identify with, but it was an impossible feat. When surveys or college applications came along, I never knew what box to check off; I would usually eliminate choices and end up marking off that I am either Black or Hispanic. It made me confused – was I supposed to fit in one of the categories? Does anyone know who I am, and more importantly, do I?
