SINT MAARTEN (COMMENTARY – By Sherritza Peterson, & drs. Xiomara Balentina) - In part one we discussed how Caribbean people have always produced knowledge, even though there is a tendency to praise external knowledge, while downplaying the value of local knowledge. In part two we explore how knowledge can shape a child’s understanding of self.
When I am born, I do not know which history is considered important, whose knowledge carries authority, what beauty should look like, or what success is supposed to mean. I learn these things from my parents, relatives, teachers, neighbors, books, music, media, and community. Through these experiences, I slowly begin answering an important question: What does it mean to be me?
I have inherited a rich and complicated story from the Indigenous peoples, the first inhabitants of this land; from the Europeans who tried to erase civilizations that were not their own; from my own ancestors; and from others whose histories, cultures, struggles, and contributions make up our complex Caribbean tapestry.
Education should give me both a telescope and a mirror. Through the telescope I should see possibilities that lie within me and my community. And when I look in the mirror, I should recognize the value of the person and community looking back at me.
Across the Caribbean, educators, historians, cultural workers, and communities must continue the important work of preserving and teaching our traditions. Traditions that have not only sustained the elders who came before me, but traditions that my peers and I can carry into the future as we further develop our society.
I want my teachers to know that learning history about faraway places can be inspiring, but knowing little about the history beneath my feet can be demoralizing. Why does my neighborhood carry its name?
Who were the teachers, builders, farmers, fishermen, community artists, and ordinary people who built my community? What stories belong to our roads, hills, ponds, historical plantation sites, beaches, and gathering places?
When local history and knowledge are not embedded in the curriculum, I struggle to develop a well-rounded identity. In other words: What does it mean to be me? I overheard someone saying once that where formal education fails, families, libraries, museums, cultural organizations, and elders become especially important in keeping history, knowledge, and traditions alive.
My “Caribbeanness” is a way for me to locate myself in this world. It does not mean that I should, for example, reject developing an understanding of all the municipalities within the Netherlands, for I should confidently encounter different cultures, technologies, and ideas. But participating in the world should never require me to erase myself while embracing the other unconditionally.
I want to learn to examine what we have inherited, preserve what continues to strengthen us, question what no longer serves us, and decide what we want to carry forward, from a place of rootedness. I want the adults to know that while global education, without rootedness, helps me to know the world, it does not prepare me to know where I should stand within it.
Stay tuned for part three!
Authors
Sherritza Peterson, M.A.Ed., M.A., Community Advocate, Social Worker
drs. Xiomara Balentina, Community Activist, Psychologist, Therapist
