My Cultural Self Portrait

Brooke’s Cultural Self Portrait

My Family History

I have been exposed, in part, to two cultures so far in my life: African American and Haitian. For the first portion of my life if asked my racial background my immediate answer would of course be “I’m African American”. For the longest time that was all that I knew about myself because that was what was obvious. I have never been the person who was extremely curious about my family history: I can’t remember a single time in elementary, junior high or high school where I had to do a school project on my family tree or history so I was never even “forced” to have an interest. As far as I was concerned, I already knew all the “important” stuff: I have two parents, a dad and mom, and I’m the second of three girls. It wasn’t until I was much older that I learned the history of my family.

My great, great grandparents on both of my dad’s sides were slaves. Grandpa Hayden grew up in Tuskegee, Alabama and only made it to the 4th grade because he had to go work on the family farm whereas Grandma Hayden, who grew up in Georgia, made it to the 10th grade: this later made education for my dad imperative for both grandparents. My dad says that they had the mindset of Martin Luther King- a nonviolent approach to equality. “We are black and we need to know that” he said was something that they really instilled in him growing up. They didn’t have a lot of animosity towards white people, but they knew the difference in diversity and had gone through a lot of racial segregation growing up in the South. He recalls one incident when he was five years old where he was on a road trip with his mom to Florida to visit a friend. During a bus stop, he went to use the bathroom and since he was still pretty young he did not know that there was a “whites only” bathroom. He vividly remembers being snatched by his mom before he could enter and being told that he could not use that bathroom because it was for whites alone. However, the biggest thing that my dad took away from his parents was the importance of education. “Since both of them were products of the 40s and 50s, education for blacks was a very big issue for them” my dad said. Haydens were big on education and sowing back into the community: a mentality that my dad passed down to my sisters and me. Both of my parents graduated from Syracuse University and at the end of May 2011, I will be the second Hayden daughter to graduate from George Mason University. My dad’s parents died before I was old enough to remember them and he was an only child for all intents and purposes so although I know a little about that side of my family, I never had any interaction with them.

The only blood relatives that I have personally known have been my mom’s family, the Vixamas: her two parents, two brothers, three sisters, one cousin, nine nieces/nephews, two great nieces/nephews, six second cousins- and these are just the people that I’ve had some personal relationship with. As you can imagine, the Vixamas more than made up for the lack of family on my dad’s side. Even though I spent a large portion of my childhood with them, the fact that they were Haitian- making me 50% Haitian (a very large part of myself to be ignorant of) - never really struck a nerve with me. I don’t know the exact age I was when I truly realized that I was half Haitian but ever since that time it has been something I’ve identified a lot with verbally, especially since I have more Vixama physical traits than I do Hayden ones. I was able to get a small eye-opener as I heard of my extended family rallying together after Hurricane Katrina to get in contact with relatives we have in Haiti (relatives I didn’t even know existed), prepare care packages, and make preparations to go physically assist themselves. I don’t know if it has increased as we’ve grown or if I’m just more keen to it now that I’m older, but hearing phrases like “that’s the Haitian in them” has been a lot more common around my home.

As much as I would probably like to, I can’t blame my mom for my ignorance of my Haitian decent. I grew up on Haitian dishes and hearing Haitian Creole words completely oblivious to their origin. There is one dish in particular of red beans and rice with this special chicken that I had all the time growing up that I loved which was a small introduction of my Haitian background. My younger sister labeled that meal “The Grandpa Meal” because my mom always made it on the days he was either coming to visit or vice versa. My mom, along with all of her brothers and sisters, called my grandparents Momom, which is “my mother” in the Haitian culture, and Papam, which is “my father”. She also refers to her father’s sister as Matant which you’ve probably guessed is how Haitians refer to their aunts. It has always been a running joke among us cousins and we even teased my mom about being called Momom by my niece.

However, Haiti was always a main character in my personal story. My mom was born in Haiti, Port-au-Prince to be exact, and got typhoid when she was around the age of four. The disease was so severe that Momom was told to take my mother to a hospital, places where people left their sick to die. Momom refused and by the mercy of God was able to help nurse my mom back to health. That story has been a testimony to the power of God in my family for as long as I can remember. There is no doubt in my mind that this miracle served as the anchor my mom stood on believing for a family while she was told by doctors that she would not be able to have children. This Friday, February 18th, my older sister will turn 27 and my mom will be able to celebrate once again her memorial of how the Lord not only spared her life, but gave her three daughters and now one granddaughter to carry on her legacy of a strong God-fearing Haitian woman.

My mom lived in Haiti for about five more years after recovering from typhoid. Papam had moved to New York to look for work before bringing Momom, my mom and her siblings over to America. Strong work ethic and the importance of education were things that my mom took away from her parents. My mom, along with all her siblings, was given the chance to go to college and be successful. Four out of the six Vixama children still live in New York and have been able to work and thrive in their fields based on the traits given to them by their parents. To this day she will talk about Papam’s keen sense of business and how hard he worked. He had his ups and downs and there were a lot of issues after his death among the siblings. But even though he didn’t leave her money, what he left my mom was character; character that she would be able to teach her children and grandchildren in years to come.

Cultural Importance

I have never realized how important culture is to me until now because I’ve never had a concrete personal definition of culture. When I hear the word “culture” my mind automatically begins to wonder to African beats and bright colors or to Hispanic fiestas along with their maracas, tortilla chips and salsa. I guess in a word you could say that I use to associate someone’s culture with traditions. I would automatically send people back to their place of origin- their “mother country”. But as I’ve grown older I’ve learned that everything has a culture. It is very common to hear “I chose that company because of their culture” or “That particular campus culture is very energetic”. Culture, in my opinion, is the combination of values and goals along with the systems set in place to achieve those goals. It is a particular way that a group of people live their life based on their beliefs and knowledge. Although I can’t say I have always taken a strong interest in my African or Haitian culture, I’ve always held a strong opinion about the different cultures I have been part of. For example, the most influential culture in my life is my church culture. My church, Calvary Temple, is non-denominational: whatever the Bible says is what is taught and enforced. The Bible is our “mission statement and core values” and the goal is to be a place where the Spirit of God dwells and where those who want help getting to heaven will get it. We are a family and community. I wasn’t raised by two parents: I was raised by a community of Christians who had the same amount of authority in my life as my biological parents did. They taught me to read, write, and do arithmetic as they implanted Godly character traits of doing everything to the best of my ability and giving God the glory for all of it. Nothing was out of my reach because with God anything, according to His Will, is possible. They were there during my greatest achievements and helped me get back up after my biggest failures. I graduated high school in front of them and I will probably graduate college in front of a good portion of them. The same people who helped raised me will be there to help raise my children. Because of this culture that I was raised in, I have a level of respect for authority that is unbelievably rare in my generation. Where the majority of my peers feel entitled to everything regardless of the effort put forth, I am bound by the scripture verse proclaiming “You reap what you sow- Galatians 6:7”. That is my culture: it’s the beliefs and knowledge set forth by a society of Christians to raise their children to know nothing else. I have been brainwashed to believe and live my life this way, the same way people of other cultures have been brainwashed to believe in the importance of education, riches, or status. The way I do things is different from others based on my culture; the biggest difference being that I don’t live my life to become something great in this world, rather I live to bring God the most glory that I can and share the good news of eternal salvation by Jesus Christ with others before He returns for His church.

No one can escape their culture, but they can choose to reject it. Our generation is full of people rebelling against the values established by their parents and grandparents. It has almost become a good thing to rebel against one’s culture and start their own path. I can’t say I understand this mentality but I can once again attribute that to being raised in a culture completely opposite of my peers. Another fundamental value drilled into me from my youth has been “follow those who through faith and patience are inheriting the promises – Hebrews 6:12”. Why create my own path when the one plowed before me is the right one?! Culture is important to me because without it I would have no idea where I was heading in this life.

Molded into His Image

When I think about my life, especially my childhood, I can’t remember a time where I didn’t hear praise and worship music playing in the kitchen every Sunday morning while my mom sang along as loud as she could while making dinner before church. If you don’t hear a loud “Hallelujah- Thank You, Jesus!” anytime something monumental happened then you definitely aren’t in the Hayden home. Scripture verses are the sayings that “haunt” me through every life choice as I can’t escape the constant reminders from my mom that God is omnipresent and in control. “We have to trust God” is the phrase I’ll repeat over and over to my children as the belief that their grandpa drilled into me whenever life was at its harshest. I’ve learned to allow the doubts of others to motivate me even more to be the “best” because my dad taught me to never crumble under critics but to rise above because I was more than able to succeed, in sports and more importantly in life. To this day, I can be suddenly awakened in the early hours of the morning by my mother praying over me while I sleep or wake up to find her reading her Bible and seeking God before she starts her day. As far as I’m concerned, that is my family history. These are the things that have shaped my identity. That is why “There is nothing hid that won’t be revealed- Luke 12:2” comes to my mind before I make a decision to do something possibly deceptive. It’s why when I’m at my lowest, I run to the sanctuary of my church to pray as oppose to food, music, or any natural comfort. It’s why when I think of culture or heritage I think of my church community because my parents have brainwashed me to believe that although I love and cherish my natural family, absolutely nothing comes before Jesus Christ and my Christian family.

Raising a Stronger Next Generation

The biggest lessons that we learn in life don’t come from educational institutes; they come from our parents and the communities that raise us. There are many natural character traits that I plan to pass on to my children that I received from my parents that they received from their parents. The importance and privilege of education, especially as an African American, is something that I will inevitably instill in my children. The love of family, especially their immediate family members, is one of the most powerful natural wisdoms I have taken away from my parents. “Friends come and go but your sisters will always be there” is something that my mom beat into me relentlessly and now when asked who my best friend is I quickly respond “my sister”. I’ve been fortunate enough to travel the world and everywhere we went, whether it was Costa Rica, Mexico, Caribbean, etc., my mom made sure that we took the time to see how the natives lived. My parents instilled an attitude of thankfulness for everything that we had as they reminded us of the rarity of our lifestyle even compared to their own childhood. All these life lessons have been monumental in shaping my identity, but my parents didn’t raise me this way simply so that I would have good morals and be “accepted” by society. There is a Bible verse that is the foundation for the ministry of my church and has been influential in my growth as a young adult: “the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also- 2 Timothy 2:2”. If I were to go on in life, start my own family, and fail to transmit these same life lessons and values to my own children then I will have failed my parents, my children, and myself.

As a look to the future and ponder how I plan to grow and what I would like my legacy to be when I die, I want to be stronger, wiser, and greater than my parents. When I say this, I don’t mean that I want more knowledge of business, culture, or economic affairs than my parents. I don’t want to be stronger or more equipped to handle the chaos of this world as far as humanity is concerned. I don’t want to make a greater humanistic impression on this world than my parents did. I don’t want a better job, more money, or a “better life” than my parents had or gave me. I may achieve all these things as a by-product of having exceptional parents, but that is neither of our desires. The strength I desire comes only from being in the presence of God. The wisdom I want can be found in only one book: the Bible. I want to be greater for the Kingdom of God than my parents because that is what they raised me to be. I want to study more: not more views of this world, although that may happen, but the scriptures and mysterious of God’s Word.

My parents gave me the chance to be successful in life when they raised me as a Christian. Because we are in this world they gave me the tools necessary to live like education, sound morals, and social skills; but they gave me eternal life when they gave me Jesus. I think about one of the most prominent genealogies in the Bible: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The Bible is full of passages referring to God as “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob” and I can think of no better legacy to leave this world than a third generation of Hayden-Vixama’s who are serving Jesus with their whole heart.