"Lord, please bless our political leaders as they deal with the pressing issue of immigration:" Responses to Immigrants in Atlanta

“Lord, please bless our political leaders as they deal with the pressing issue of immigration. We pray to the Lord.” I heard this statement during a May 2010 Sunday mass in a Catholic church (with a predominantly white middle-class congregation) in the Buckhead neighborhood of Atlanta, and my attention was roused. At first, I wasn’t sure what I had heard. I thought the speaker was going to ask God for help regarding the recession or the war, but instead – I heard correctly! - The prayer was for help with immigration. Although I don’t attend church as much as my mother (or my grandmother) would want or like me to, I don’t recall ever hearing any prayers that identified immigration as a problem in need of God’s guidance and help. Normally, prayers are made for those who are sick, homeless, unemployed, troubled, or recently deceased, or for issues that the church deems as “sins,” or against what is said in the Bible, such as abortion and homosexuality. The prayer was a telling statement about the public opinion of the influx of immigrants into the southern metropolis.

Immediately I felt uncomfortable. Right there in this place of worship, my family (which includes people at various stages of the immigration process, from resident alien to naturalized citizen) and the Afro-Caribbeans in my study were being labeled as a problem that required divine intervention. The large increase in the foreign-born population in Atlanta over the past three decades has stimulated a mixture of reactions and feelings from the city’s native/long-term residents, and the local government. The city has made strides to incorporate their immigrant newcomers, for example, by legally recognizing June as Caribbean American Heritage Month and allowing the CAHM planning committee to use city hall (for free) for the opening reception. However, the message I received in this one church in the Buckhead section of Atlanta was that immigrants were not welcome.

A Little NYC in Atlanta

For transplanted Afro-Caribbeans in Atlanta, their experiences in living in another city complicate and influence their community development. In the case of those who moved from New York, it is possible to migrate to Atlanta and to live around and socialize mainly with other Afro-Caribbean New Yorkers. When I moved to Atlanta, nearly all of the people I knew or met in the city were New York transplants. I met very few native residents of Atlanta during the year I lived in the southern city. New York-origin Afro-Caribbean migrants have seemingly transplanted their Caribbean New York social circles and lifestyles to Atlanta. They continue to attend parties and events with mostly other Caribbean New Yorkers and live in areas with others from their old New York neighborhoods. For Afro-Caribbean newcomers from New York, Atlanta can seem like a suburb of the New York tri-state area because of the large number of people who have migrated to the city from New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut. In fact, several migrants described Atlanta as “Little New York.” Because of the active nightlife and the many opportunities to socialize with New Yorkers in the city, Atlanta has become like, as one migrant described it, “a New York away from New York.” It is quite possible to attend parties, clubs, and events in Atlanta hosted by an Afro-Caribbean migrant and find the majority of the partygoers are Caribbean New Yorkers.

The idea of Atlanta being “New York away from New York” or a Little New York influenced several of my New York-origin respondents’ decisions to move to the southern city. Karen, a New York-born transplant of Kittian descent in her early thirties who moved to the southern city from Los Angeles in 2002, told me: “I knew Atlanta would be a smarter choice for me because of all of the African Americans or Caribbean people who have migrated down here, it makes it sort of like a mini-New York.” For some of the New York-origin Afro-Caribbean migrants in this study, Atlanta being a Little New York helped with their resettlement process. When I interviewed Kerry, a migrant of Trinidadian descent in her late thirties, in the fall of 2009 in a Borders Bookstore near her home in Cobb County, she explained how Atlanta being a Little New York eased the transition to her new life in the southern city:

I actually moved to Atlanta in 1994 and I used to visit a lot before I moved here. So when I came, I liked it and a lot of my friends went to school at the AUC. So I would visit them and I thought that I could do this because it’s like New York away from New York. They were from New York too. I came down here to visit a lot and I ended up getting a promotion at my job in 1994 which is why I moved then. I was planning to move in 1996 but ended up moving two years early because it was easy. I just had to pack my bags and head here. I already had the job waiting since I was already with the company. So it was a seamless transition for me to make the move.

Whether or not other Afro-Caribbean migrants (not from New York) view Atlanta as a Little New York or recognize that there is a growing Caribbean New York community in Atlanta is unclear. The only migrants in this study to refer to Atlanta as a Little New York were migrants from New York. What is clear, however, is the importance of New York as a place and social and cultural center of the Caribbean diaspora (Olwig 2001). A large number of the Afro-Caribbean migrants that I interviewed for this study (13 out of 33) were connected to New York in some way—they either were born there or lived there for a significant amount of time (at least a decade) before they moved to Atlanta. Even after they move out and away from the city, New York continues to be central point for these Afro-Caribbean migrants in Atlanta. It makes it seem like New Yorker is an ethnicity that Afro-Caribbeans migrants are bringing with them to Atlanta and interchanging with their racial and ethnic identities. This point is significant, because it highlights a major difference between New York-origin Afro-Caribbean migrants and those from other places. As I discussed in the previous section, most of Afro-Caribbean migrants from New York who live in Atlanta still maintain their social and cultural ties to New York by not only socializing mostly with other Afro-Caribbean New Yorkers in Atlanta, but also traveling back to the city several times a year to maintain their family and friends still living there, to shop, and attend social events (e.g., birthdays, baptisms, funerals, and holidays) and cultural events (e.g., carnival). Interestingly, despite the length of time they have lived in Atlanta, and their claims of being happy with their life in Atlanta and having no plans to move back to New York (or anywhere in the future), Afro-Caribbean migrants from New York who live in Atlanta still maintain an identity as Caribbean New Yorkers.

Though sticking to their old communities may create a barrier in between the black immigrant community and those in the larger African American community, it has been helpful for developing a community among the Afro-Caribbeans in Atlanta, since so many have moved to the area from New York. Being among other Caribbean New Yorkers in Atlanta creates a feeling of home and familiarity for migrants, making the transition to life in Atlanta easier.

30 Things Before 30: #29 Don't be afraid to GET HELP

I made this video a month ago. With the recent death of Robin Williams (after struggling for years with severe depression), I felt I had to repost. Mental health is as important physical health. Please don't be afraid to ask for help.

Caribbean Connections

Afro-Caribbean’s migration experience is not a simple story of leaving one country for good and settling in another, abandoning their former lives. Most Afro-Caribbean immigrants engage in various kinds of transnational activities that connect them to their countries of origin (Olwig 2007; Basch 2001; Vickerman 2002; Sutton 1992). Developments in communication and cheap flights have greatly facilitated their ability to sustain strong relationships with families and friends who live thousands of miles away. Even as they become incorporated into the local society, they stay closely connected to families and friends in the Caribbean through telephone communication, regular remittances to family members, and involvement in events in their former communities. Such connections help them to deal with emotional and material challenges of living in a new place and remain embedded in their former communities at the same time that they develop new networks in their new home. As a result, migrants are able to form a sense of belonging to multiple communities. Through their ties to the cities that they migrated from, they do not have to rely completely on the services, events, and goods available in Atlanta to maintain their Caribbean identity and cultural practices and traditions.

Fairly cheap airfares and Atlanta's major international airport--the busiest airport in the country—makes it easier for Afro-Caribbean migrants to visit “home” (i.e., the Caribbean and/or the cities that they left) with great frequency and to go back for family emergency, special celebrations, leisure, or to get things they need, such as food, music, or clothes that they can’t find easily in Atlanta. As a hub for Air Tran and Delta, airlines that offer daily flights to New York at rates around $200, Atlanta’s airport  makes it easy for migrants to travel between the two cities. Many migrants told me that they would visit the Caribbean a few times a year and get the Caribbean-style products they desired for themselves and bring them back to Atlanta; and if they could not go, they would have family members ship the products to them. (Although the population and the availability of Caribbean products in Atlanta have grown, there are some products that are easier and cheaper to get from their former communities, especially traditional Caribbean immigrant destinations like New York and Miami.) Being able to easily go back to their former communities shapes their experience of living in Atlanta. Many Afro-Caribbeans I interviewed told me that connections to their “old” lives greatly influenced their feelings of satisfaction with their new lives in Atlanta. As they travel between Atlanta and their former communities, Afro-Caribbean migrants are forming connections between Atlanta and other major cities, including New York, Miami, Boston, and other places they migrated from.

Caribbean Organizations in Atlanta, part 2

In addition to the reception, there are a number of staple CAHM events. There is a film festival at the Central Library, which each Wednesday for the month of June shows films from different Caribbean countries. The month also includes a Caribbean day at an Atlanta Braves baseball game and a Caribbean Variety Show. Very few of my Afro-Caribbeans respondents knew of GCAHC or the Caribbean American Heritage Month events. Those who did were involved in cultural organizations, such as the Atlanta Jamaican Association or the Dominica Atlanta Cultural Association. Even the Afro-Caribbeans that I interviewed did not know about the organization or its events, GCAHC is making great strides to celebrate Atlanta’s diverse Caribbean community and to educate the greater Atlanta community on the Caribbean culture, history, and identity.

In early 2010, the Georgia Caribbean American Heritage Coalition undertook a major advocacy project:the Georgia Caribbean American Complete Count initiative for the 2010 US Census. Following a directive from Dr. Nelson of the Institute of Caribbean Studies, GCAHC created a committee under the umbrella of Caribbean American Heritage Month and worked with local Caribbean organizations and churches with large Caribbean congregations to spread the word about the initiative to get Afro-Caribbeans to write in Caribbean or West Indian as their ethnicity on the US Census. The committee also worked closely with the Census Bureau and its local representatives to put on events in the Atlanta area. Using Census funds, the Georgia Caribbean American Complete Count Committee organized a large Caribbean Count event at the DeKalb Technical College Center in March 2010 in the heart of the Decatur/Stone Mountain area, where large number of Afro-Caribbeans in Atlanta lived. The committee made great efforts to cater to the community’s needs by providing different services, along with information about the Census. They invited the Caribbean consulate and local elected officials. They also got a representative of the US Census Southeast region to take part in a Q&A session. The event also featured a Caribbean real estate broker, two Caribbean lawyers who gave legal advice about getting US citizenship, some preventive medicine representatives, including Dr. Edward Layne who is the honorary consul of Barbados in Georgia, and a CPA, the treasury of the group, giving tax advice. I had not heard about the event, when it occurred. But, according to Valrie, the event was successful and attracted about 900 people.

The Caribbean Count event was featured in the city’s major newspaper Atlanta Journal-Constitution (AJC) on the cover of the Metro section of the Sunday issue on March 14, 2010. There was a large picture of the Caribbean Count event on the front cover of the section and several other pictures from the event with short taglines about the Georgia Caribbean American Complete Count Committee. However, the accompanying article focused on the work of the Asian and Latino Census Complete Count groups and didn’t discuss the work of the Georgia Caribbean American Complete Count Committee. The Caribbean Count group was only featured in the article’s pictures. This unequal treatment raises questions on how Afro-Caribbean immigrants are viewed and treated by the larger Atlanta community in relation to more racially visible immigrant newcomers, such as Latinos and Asians. Even with their efforts to build a distinct community identity and counted as a distinct ethnic group in Atlanta, many Afro-Caribbeans feel their presence is not being recognized by the larger community. Few of my respondents knew about the Caribbean Census efforts in the Atlanta. None told me that they attended any of the events, with the exception of Margaret. But one of my respondents explained to me why the Caribbean Complete Count initiative was important for the Caribbean community in Atlanta. Andrew stated, “We are trying our best [to make the Caribbean presence known in Atlanta] through the Census to motivate people to make that identity as Caribbean so we can be one to be reckoned with, politically and economically.”

Their development of Caribbean organizations could create tension with the broader black community in Atlanta. These organizations are important sites for the formation of a Caribbean community because they are generally based on the existence of a Caribbean population and reinforce Caribbean identities—both their specific national/island-based identities and their pan-ethnic identities as Afro-Caribeans/West Indians/Caribbean people. Their cultural activities—dinners, dances, outings, pageants, sporting events--emphasize a distinct Caribbean culture and identity and differentiate Afro-Caribbeans from African Americans (Basch 1987). The existence of these cultural organizations can be misread by African Americans in Atlanta as a sign that Afro-Caribbean migrants do not want to be incorporated into the larger black community. However, I never got the sense from the Afro-Caribbeans that I interviewed for this study that they sought to be apart from African Americans or the African American community. Indeed, many of the migrants sought out Atlanta precisely to be a part of the larger black community, i.e., because Atlanta was a black mecca. Though they identified ethnically as Caribbean or West Indian, which Afro-Caribbeans have been shown to use as a form of distancing, they also identified as black people and saw themselves as part of the larger black community in Atlanta.