Can We Forget Where We Come From?

By Dr. Marcia Davis-Dawkins

I was recently privileged to be a part of our family reunion where we went back to our roots where our maternal parents and grandparents lived. It was really different  because there was no running water.  However we got water from the nearby spring. Being there was very nostalgic since I lived there at one part of my primary years. During my quiet times, I wondered how we survived without some of the basic things in life – running water or electricity. Vivid memories flooded my mind including having to go to the spring to get water to do many essential things that many may take for granted today. I thought of going to the river to wash clothes and at times bathing. As a farmer, my grandfather would plant various crops like sugar cane, oranges, coconuts, coco, coffee, ginger, yams of varying names and textures.   I was fortunate to witness the planting as well as the harvesting of these crops. Some of the crops were cash crops while others were for our consumption. There were also livestock, including chickens, cows, goats and pigs. My grandfather at times would slaughter various livestock and sell to the neighbors in the community.

There are many people who would not like to remember where their origins are because the memories are so painful and they would prefer to bury them. Quite frankly, I understand their reasoning, but for me they’re my roots and the experiences helped and molded me into who I am today. And I would not say that life was great and stress-free. I am sure that they are people who would say that they are now glad they are out of the situation that they grew up in and would not want to go back now that they are successful. They might be irritated they had to experience the poverty and dare I say, the humble beginnings. Some of the memories are so cemented into my mind that I can’t forget them whether good or bad. I am truly convinced that they made me stronger and weren’t meant to demean my humble beginnings. I guess when I was sent to spend time with my grandfather, during my primary years to teenage years, I didn’t think those were wonderful years. But now that I am older, I have learned to appreciate those foundational years. I know that my grandfather was a vital and invaluable part of my upbringing. As such, I have learned to never forget where I came from, but never to let it hold me back from where I want to go.

Some of us (including some family members) have sought ways to remove or refrain from remembering the struggle of their childhood days – especially if they see them as too painful or violent for that matter. I can’t say I blame them but can say, “different strokes for different folks”. Still there are others who might associate their childhood days as confusing, lonesome, or filled with rejection and they prefer to escape from or drown those memories.

Somehow as an educator, I have been thinking of how the students would eventually think about the impact that I have made on my students’ lives. It is my hope that they will never forget me as a motivator and that I played a vital and invaluable part in their lives. I really would like them to feel that even though the lessons and experiences were sometimes difficult they will help to make them who they will be in the future. I have often thought that through lessons I can share part of my early childhood stories (where appropriate) so students can identify with me and feel that they are not alone.

Since the teacher wears many hats and one of them is that of providing a home (in the classroom) for students, then the hat includes making the classroom a home where the heart is. No matter what one accomplishes, one must never forget how one began. That enables one to have enough confidence to hold his/her head up high, but also enough humility not to look down at others. As Ralph Waldo Emerson stated, “A great man is always willing to be little.”