As I grabbed the small grey suitcase that sat on the terrazzo tiled floor of the Trinidad and Tobago International Airport and hugged my little sisters good bye. I turned towards my mom, stared her dead in the eyes, and without saying a word or making any gestures to her I made an about face and walked off.
"Antonia, Antonia," My mom called out but I kept walking.
It was 9 am on Monday March 16th 1998, and as I walked toward the boarding area of the massive Boeing Jet, my heart soared with excited. I was about to embark on a journey only a several family members had gone and few had returned from. This trip was not planned, every thing fell in place literally over night. The morning before I came home from the 3 pm-11 pm shift as the head chef at the Royal Palm hotel, that was located in the shops of Maraval in ST. James Trinidad. To my surprise one of my uncles, had sent me a standby plane ticket to America. It was about 1 am by that time and I had a few hours to pack before and after work the next day.
This all seemed to good to be true. All I could thing about was,
" Ah really goin tuh get out of dis house and go far away from de family dat ah was planning tuh secretly leave behind de minute ah got de chance."
This opportunity came in the form of a plane ticket, a plane ticket that held my future, a future away from my caged and monitored existence. I would not have to hand over my pay check to Sandra Antoine any more, I would not have to worry about the fact that I was a twenty year old working woman and still getting beatings from my mom. All I wanted was to get out of there with no plans of returning.
In my sixteen immigrant years, I have moved from New York to Canada, back to New York then to Philly, back to New York then back to Philly again. I have been put out, let down and put down. Homelessness plagued me for two months as I lived in a roach infested shelter in the Bronx New York with my four month old son Aydan. I can look back at my young self and see that I had no idea what I was going to be in for. Fortunately I was equipted with survival skills that I attained trying to make it through my tumultuous childhood.
I left Trinidad that sunny March morning, with a few outfits, two pairs of shoes, a couple of under wares, some toiletries and sixty American dollars in my pocket. When I separated myself from my family that day I did not look back, I felt liberated from their oppressive grip. Today I can truly say that I am blessed and by God's grace I survived the past sixteen year in the United States , now I am ready to live.
In my future I can see for the first time, my dreams of being a Psychologist coming true. The ability to help any one rise above their struggles in my end goal. This I Wonder, what would have happened to me ,had I not left Trinidad?