Locating the “Jahaji” : negotiating Indo-Caribbean identifications in South Richmond Hill

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Locating the “Jahaji”: Negotiating Indo-Caribbean

Identifications in South Richmond Hill

MSc in International Migration and Social Cohesion

May 2016

Author: Cristine Sabrina Khan

ID Numbers:

University College of Dublin: 15202569 University of Amsterdam: 10866841

University of Deusto: 99910516

Thesis Supervisors:

Alice Feldman (University College of Dublin) Liza Mügge (University of Amsterdam) Robert Smith (CUNY/ University of Deusto)

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DECLARATION

I hereby declare that this thesis is my own original work and not the work of someone else. I also declare that I was informed of the completion and assessment rules provided by the MISOCO Programme.

Cristine Sabrina Khan May 4, 2016

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This is dedicated to my grandmas who embraced the richness of their roots, and to all the strong, resistant women in my life who raised me, and continue to support me

unconditionally. This is for us!

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Chapter 1 Introduction

Growing up I remember walking down my grandma’s block, taking in the sweet smells of chicken curry and roti simmering on the stove tops of seemingly every house in the neighborhood. I recall those hot summer days when the boisterous sounds of Indian music, chutney and soca, with a more refined relaxing reggae intermixed in the background, created the hybridized soundtrack of my household. Working together, these intersecting representations of what I know as Guyanese, West Indian [1], and now

Indo-Caribbean culture, define the multi-faceted identifications [2] existing within the

Guyanese Indian community in South Richmond Hill, New York.

Having grown up in this community, this research is interwoven within my personal biography, stemming from the daunting question always posed to me, a second-generation non-white American: What are you? I tackle this question by critically looking at the movement in this neighborhood around the newer term “Indo-Caribbean,” which acknowledges an overlooked shared culture and history amongst Caribbean Indians from countries like Guyana and Trinidad. I explore how a local NGO, the Indo-Caribbean Alliance (ICA), uses this term to navigate ethnic categorization and racialization in New York City and the United States. At the same time, mobilizations around an Indo-Caribbean ethnic category identify a diasporic consciousness, bringing to the forefront a multi-local collective history, culture, and identity; the maintenance of differences from Afro-Caribbeans and South Asians aids in constructing this diasporic consciousness and identity.

Ethnic categorization is a key component to immigrant adaptation in the United States (Nagel, 1994; Safran, 2007). The hegemonic categories imposed by the U.S.

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government via census forms and other official documents ascribe ethno-racial categories to many ethnic groups that do not self-identify with such labels (Brubaker et al., 2004). Ethnic categories ultimately dictate access to resources and funding, especially in multicultural urban settings; groups are recognized by the categories they undertake (Nagel 1994; Foner 2007). This results in many movements and mobilizations around alternative ethnic labels and ways of identifications (Orbe and Drummond, 2009). It is therefore important to understand how the history and culture of a group shape these mobilizations (Nagel, 1994).

Interestingly, despite the large immigrant presence in the United States, literature on ethnic categorization oftentimes fails to relate ethnic identity with the past constructions of race and ethnicity in a group’s country of origin. Moreover, while Sokefeld (2006) identifies the links between ethnic formations and the formation of a diasporic consciousness, few scholars examine the intersections between ethnic mobilization and those around a diasporic consciousness. A diasporic consciousness is an awareness of a specific heritage that allows one to feel connected to both “here” and “there”; it mends gaps between local and global contexts while creating collective memories that can serve as sources of resistance for more visibility in various contexts (Vertovec, 1997; Clifford, 1994).

This research explores the tensions between ethnic categorization, and diasporic consciousness and cultural identity. It is rooted in South Richmond Hill, New York where Guyanese Indians are one of the largest ethnic groups. Although there are significant populations of South Asians, Latinos and Blacks, this neighborhood is known as “Little Guyana,” and holds a largely Caribbean Indian culture and presence. A 2004

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New York Times article profiles Richmond Hill, awestruck by the separation of Caribbean

Indians from South Asians, despite shared phenotypes and cultural similarities:

These Indo-Caribbeans have not felt particularly embraced by the more flourishing Indian communities of Flushing and Elmhurst in Queens, nor have they made many overtures to the Indians. Instead they have cobbled together their own fragrant neighborhood of roti, saris and gold jewelry shops among the row houses of Richmond Hill, Queens. (Berger, 2004)

Berger illustrates that notwithstanding the flourishing South Asian communities in Queens, Caribbean Indians have constructed a different community that accommodates their specific identifications. Scholars like Nagel (1994) argue that minority ethnic groups tend to identify with proximal groups that are bigger in numbers. Although they are a minority population, my data shows a lack of interest in merging with this more populous community. Additionally, like many journalist and scholars, Berger uses the term “Indo-Caribbean,” distinguishing a masked Indian presence within the Caribbean. Despite the use of this term in academia, recently, community groups and residents of South Richmond Hill have used it as a type of identification.

My research explores these dynamics using ICA as a case study. Because of the dearth of empirical research on this community, I revised my initial research questions throughout the fieldwork process. I used the following questions to guide this research and my data analysis:

In what ways does ICA use the term Indo-Caribbean to navigate ethnic categorization and push for the political and social recognition of Caribbean Indians within state and local contexts in the United States?

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 How is this use of “Indo-Caribbean” connected to the recognition of a

diasporic consciousness?

 In what ways is a multi-local Indo-Caribbean diasporic consciousness and

identity constructed within South Richmond Hill?

Chapter 2 highlights the key academic literature, divided into three components: ethnic categorization, diasporic consciousness and diasporic identity. I show how the push for categorization in the United States influences ethnic group formations, and also enhances the importance of ethnic identities within multicultural settings (Nagel, 1994; Brubaker, 2002; Foner, 2007). I then demonstrate how a diasporic consciousness can emerge through collective mobilization around ideas of belonging and boundary making (Clifford, 1994; Brubaker, 2005; Tololyan, 2007). Additionally, this consciousness aids in constructing a diasporic cultural identity, which is also contextually based on ideas of belonging and affiliation to a specific heritage (Hall, 1990; Roopnaraine, 2007).

Chapter 3 provides a historical background, illustrating the roots of racial tensions between Blacks and Indians in the Caribbean, and how it sparked Caribbean Indian migration to the United States. I emphasize that divisions between Blacks and Indians in the Caribbean influence ideas of separateness and the recognition of a distinct Caribbean Indian experience. Chapter 4 reviews the incorporated methods, showing the importance of an exploratory qualitative approach. I review the different methods utilized: an ethnography of Richmond Hill; participant observation with ICA; media analysis; and semi-structured informal interviews with eight people connected to ICA. Furthermore, my data analysis is divided into two chapters. Chapter 5 looks at an Indo-Caribbean ethnic category as a tool to gain both political and social recognition in local and official contexts. I illustrate the tensions in using an Indo-Caribbean ethnic category and identity

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in various levels, concluding that it moves beyond this by reclaiming the history and culture of the Indian diaspora to the Caribbean. Chapter 6 highlights the identification of a multi-locally rooted Indo-Caribbean diasporic consciousness and identity in everyday local contexts (Vertovec, 1997). I emphasize the importance of the Jahaji, or indentureship experience from India, to the construction of a Caribbean Indian identity. Interviewees acknowledge this consciousness and a specific Indo-Caribbean cultural identity through the maintaining of differences between Caribbean Indians, Afro-Caribbeans, and South Asians.

Lastly, in Chapter 7 I conclude that Indo-Caribbean identifications emerge in South Richmond Hill, through the work of ICA in three ways: as an ethnic category; as a diasporic consciousness; and as a diasporic cultural identity. In doing so, I argue that scholars should further explore the nuances between ethnic categorization and diasporic consciousness, particularly when looking at Caribbean populations in the United States. Additionally, they should illustrate how ethnic categorization and mobilization in the United States can go beyond politics, working to construct masked histories and identities. In this context the framework of a diasporic consciousness more adequately addresses the tensions and multi-dimensionality of Indo-Caribbean identifications; it goes beyond an ethnic category in the U.S. and addresses the global diasporic ties, history and cultural identity intertwined in the Caribbean Indian experience in South Richmond Hill.

[1] Caribbean and West Indian are used interchangeably, with a privileging of Caribbean, the term most commonly used in academic literature. West Indian is used commonly throughout New York to represent the English speaking countries in the Caribbean, also including Guyana, a former British colony.

[2] Identifications recognize a common origin or shared characteristics (Hall 2000); identification is a “process of articulation” that is never completed, based on a process of being rather than a state of being (Hall 2001). It places identity as “strategic and positional.” I use “Indo-Caribbean identifications” as a way to articulate fluid, non-static experiences of identity formation in both the Caribbean and in the United States.

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Chapter 2 Literature Review

This research incorporates literature on ethno-racial categorization, diasporic consciousness, and diasporic identity to understand how the construction and use of the term Indo-Caribbean unfolds in South Richmond Hill, New York. The imposition of ethnic categories in the United States often sparks mobilization around specific ethnic identities; at the same time this can result in the mobilization around a diasporic consciousness for groups that have experienced diasporas (Sokefeld, 2006). I argue that ICA uses the term Indo-Caribbean to navigate ethnic categorization and racialization, by pushing for social and political recognition in South Richmond Hill and the United States (Nagel, 1994; Omni and Winant, 2014). At the same time, this mobilization acknowledges a diasporic consciousness and cultural identity that extends beyond these contexts, and identifies the double diasporic experience of Caribbean Indians.

I first highlight how the mobilization around ethnic categories in the United States is a tool for political and social recognition in official and local everyday contexts (Nagel, 1994; Brubaker, 2004; Anthias, 1998). Ethnic politics are especially important in multicultural settings like New York, where groups tend to mobilize around such ideas of belonging (Foner, 2007; Olzak, 1983). The push for a specific Indo-Caribbean ethnic category allows for the recognition of shared identifications of a common origin and history. In doing so, it also pinpoints a diasporic consciousness that extends beyond local contexts in the U.S.

The indentureship experience from South Asia to the Caribbean, and perceived marginalization in the Caribbean and the United States, are main factors in constructing a

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Caribbean Indian diasporic consciousness in South Richmond Hill (Rahemtullah, 2010). The Indo-Caribbean diaspora complicates the definition of an “old” diaspora and pushes ideas of boundary making and collective consciousness (Clifford, 1994; Mishra, 1996). An Indo-Caribbean identity emerges from this diasporic consciousness and represents a fluid, multifaceted identity, shaped by the maintenance of differences with other diasporic groups (Hall, 1990; Roopnaraine, 2006). Therefore, Indo-Caribbean identifications represent not only a way to navigate ethnic categorization in the United States, but also acknowledge a diasporic consciousness and identity that has been re-constructed in Queens.

2.1 Ethno-Racial Formation and Categorization in the United States

In understanding Indo-Caribbean identifications, one must consider the larger histories of race/racism in the U.S. and how these formations operate in the lives of its residents. The processes of racial and ethnic formation in the United States are important to immigrant presence and adaptation (Omni and Winant, 1994; Cornell and Hartmann, 2004). Although race and ethnicity are conceived differently, both serve as ways to gain access to resources and opportunities in the United States1 (Cornell and Hartmann, 2004).

1_{Cornell and Hartmann distinguish between the uses of race and ethnicity in the United States, maintaining}

that both are used as approaches to understand intergroup relations in the U.S. Race focuses on more genetic based traits such as physiology and skin color; it is ascribed to an individual. On the other hand, ethnicity places an emphasis on descent and homeland; origins and common culture make up an integral part of how it is defined. They maintain that ethnicity is a, “self-assertion of collective identity’ (2004: 28). Still, those who claim a particular ethnic identity may still find themselves in conflict with racial or other classifications in which they are being assigned a different identity (2004: 28). In general, racial groups tend to be imposed by a dominant group on a less powerful one, ”with self-categorization as an unspoken by-product of this process” (2004: 33) Race is used as a way to understand whom a person is; racial identity in many ways defines identity in the United States. Still, they maintain that race is constantly being transformed and defined by political struggle (2004). Omni and Winant show how race in the United States was constructed along a black-white binary, defining white as a pure category. They use the term racial category to represent “the process by which social, economic, and political forces determine the content and importance of racial categories...” (1994).

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Nagel (1994) emphasizes that ethnicity is based on boundary-making and the production of meaning; it negotiates the nuances of, “boundaries, identities, and cultures” (1994). She shows how ethnic formations depend on both historical and societal constructions. The state in particular influences how we view ethnicity, and identify with specific categories. The ethnic identity one chooses and presents to others is determined by the perception of its meaning to different audiences, and its importance and usage in different contexts and settings.

Additionally, political recognition is a key factor in group identifications and mobilizations around ethnicity. The promotion of new ethnic group formations is likelier when, “official designations are thought to advantage or disadvantage a group in some way” (Nagel, 1994). Certain groups, such as Asians, assert a pan-ethnic identity when size is perceived as an advantage especially for the acquirement of political power and resources. Still, ethnic identity is “both optional and mandatory,” as choices depend on the ethnic categories that are available at a particular time and place. Institutionally imposed categories, like on census forms, tend to limit ethnic identity choices. Policies that regulate ethnicity stimulate ethnic group formation or mobilization, especially when certain ethnic populations are perceived as “targets” for special treatment. Therefore, the organization of political access along ethnic lines influences and promotes ethnic political mobilization. (Ibid)

Furthermore, she locates the “substance of ethnicity” within culture and history, as they are integral to collective mobilization, the construction of community, and the formation of “boundaries of collective identities.” Culture is constructed in new ways through a perceived historical culture, and a new culture that emerges from a different context. The construction of culture encourages group solidarity, which refers to a

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collective consciousness that emerges from collective action. Collective mobilization around ethnicity often serves to challenge hegemonic ethnic images and institutions or redefine what it means. (Ibid).

Similarly, Brubaker et al. (2004) maintain that ethnic, racial, and national categories serve as political projects, everyday social practices, and as mental processes. The tendency to define ethnicity on the basis of participants’ beliefs and perceptions fuels the newer emergence and emphasis on categorizing and classifying groups. Census categories may reshape lines of identification. They assert that especially when census data is used to dictate public policy, official census categories, “can have the effect of ‘making up people or ‘nominating into existence,’ creating some new kinds of persons for individuals to be” (2004: 34). Still the categories people tend to use in everyday life often differ from official categories. At the same time, even “ordinary actors” can use categories and bend them for their own purposes or use the same categories, adding an alternate or unofficial meaning to it. They argue for a cognitive perspective that focuses more on group making and grouping, rather than groups as mere entities. A cognitive perspective allows us to understand and ask “how, when and, why people interpret social experience in racial, ethnic or national terms.”

Furthermore, Safran (2008) maintains that ethnic categories are universally used as a “conscious political act of identification” which is a reflection of a group’s self-image. He maintains, similar to Nagel (1994) and Brubaker et al. (2004), that a group’s choice to use a specific identity is influenced by the institutional, social, and ideological contexts existing within a national context. A self-ascribed ethnicity within a large multicultural context like the United States often stems not from culture but from social, political, and economic experiences and perceptions of difference from majority groups.

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He highlights that there are growing movements in the United States to distinguish various immigrant groups from the hegemonic categories imposed by the census. For example, many immigrants from African countries maintain stark dissections from African-Americans and assert that the experience of both groups is significantly different. Still, Safran shows that even within these divisions, various ethnic groups from many African countries like Ethiopia are still excluded. In general, ethnic communities aim to be treated as equals while maintaining a specific identity. Ethnic identities tend to be stronger in urban multicultural areas. (Safran, 2008)

Moreover, based on their research on racial categories in the United States, Orbe and Drummond (2009) further emphasize how the complicitous nature of race is manifested in the U.S. through the use of racial and ethnic labels. 2_{They employ}

complicity theory to understand how people of color who do not fit into a black/white binary problematize ethno-racial categorization in the United States. Through conducting multiple interviews with individuals who would fall under the main census categories, they find that people of color often use multiple names, cultural distinctions or create alternative names to transcend complicitous racial categorization in the United States.

Collective mobilization around ethnicity or specific ethnic categories is remnant of the stark racial divisions and the importance of racial identity in the United States (Nagel, 1994; Brubaker et al., 2005; Cornell and Hartmann, 2004). Although politics tend to drive the need for ethnic recognition via official categories, it is still important to understand how groups identify in their everyday lives (Brubaker et al., 2004). In looking at the use of the term Indo-Caribbean in Richmond Hill, it is critical to consider the ways

2_{Complicity theory contends two key notions in relation to race relations in the United States: Racism is a}

consequence of understanding the world in solely black and white terms; racism reflects Western tendency to essentialize classifications and categories of groups.

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in which those pushing for the term navigate their own experiences with ethno-racial divisions in the United States. It is also important to consider how these identifications manifest in a multicultural setting like Queens, New York, where ethnic politics are important, and influenced by social and political contexts (Safran, 2008; Foner, 2007).

2.1.1 Navigating Ethno-Racial Categorization in Multicultural Settings Ethnic mobilization plays an important role in navigating ethnic categories, especially within urban multicultural settings. Olzak (1983) highlights that urban settings bring different groups into contact, which increases the relevance of ethnic markers such as dress, skin color, and occupation (Olzak, 1983). She identifies various factors as causes for ethnic mobilization, stressing the importance of the labor sector, and ethnic niches in certain jobs. Still, she maintains that various institutions such as the education system and bureaucratic institutions often aid in creating and changing boundaries. Access to political and institutional representation are key parts of why certain ethnic groups emerge and mobilize. In looking at Richmond Hill, I explore how ethnic mobilization around Indo-Caribbean identifications emerge to obtain social resources and political recognition.

Further, Foner (2007) highlights the uniqueness of New York City in situating multiculturalism and in specifically understanding how race and ethnicity are constructed not just in the United States, but also in this diverse setting. The urban metropolis in general provides a different framework in understanding racial construction, and also differs by city. She emphasizes that, “ethnic politics are the lifeblood of New York City politics,” and shows the importance of politics for ethnic mobilization specifically amongst newer populations (Foner, 2007). Therefore, the construction of race and

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ethnicity is indeed shaped by national trends, but also allows for a non black-white dichotomy due to the growing numbers of Asian and Hispanic populations in the city. Blackness also means something different in New York, as many who identify as black are indeed Afro-Caribbean. Still, there is a growing expansion of immigrants claiming a West Indian identity rather than just a black identity, which is evident in the West Indian Day parade, which is the largest affinity parade in NYC. Foner (2007) concludes that New York City has a “four-part ethno racial hierarchy,” which is distinct in this particular region and may differ in other areas: White; Black; Hispanic; and Asian in this respective order Although many ethnicities are left out, most groups are made to fit under at least one of these categories.

Warikoo (2004) in many ways shows the challenges to this hierarchy by looking at the complexities of Caribbean Indians. Indo-Caribbean second-generation youth demonstrate a fluid, thick, multifaceted identity that is adaptable to different settings. Multi-ethnic culture is inherent to their way of being and how they ethnically identify. Although ethnic identification in New York privileges a singular ethnic identity, Indians from the Caribbean are not solely West Indian, Indian, Guyanese or Trinidadian. Additionally, because of their phenotypes, Caribbean Indians are not usually ascribed a specific ethnicity. They are often stuck between a black and white dichotomy, as they do not have the privileges of whiteness nor the “master status” of blackness.” Their multi-ethnic environment and the ethno-cultural plurality of where their parents come from influence this fluid ethnic identity. Second-generation Indo-Caribbeans tend to construct ideas about their culture based on their interactions with each other. She calls this a “cosmopolitan ethnicity,” which is driven by four main factors:

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2. A multi-ethnic environment in which youth live and attend school in New York City.

3. Lack of economic competition to solidify ethnic boundaries. 4. A race that is not white or black.

Because of this cosmopolitanism, Warikoo asserts that there has yet to emerge a unitary ethnic identity amongst Caribbean Indians (Warikoo 2004).

In a similar analysis, Plaza (2006) looks at Caribbean Indian migration to Canada and how various forms of ethnic identifications occurs in ‘Indo-Caribbean’ communities abroad, in order to go against hegemonic ideas of assimilation. He emphasizes looking at hybrid culture when trying to understand ethnic identity amongst Caribbeans in general. Culture, environment and identity can lead to different ethnic identity formations. Plaza looks at the notably different, yet similarly hybrid ways of acculturation among Afro-Caribbeans and Indo-Afro-Caribbeans in Canadian society (2006). In general, Afro-Afro-Caribbeans tend to fall into one of three patterns that scholar Mary Waters (1996) defines: a Canadian identity; dominant African-American, marginalized black youth culture; or an emphasis on hybridity and their national origins (Plaza, 2006). On the other hand, Indo-Caribbeans have slightly different experiences, which Plaza defines as being “on the margins.” Those who identified as Pan-Indian were not seen “Indian enough,” while those who identified as West Indian, were oftentimes not seen as “black enough”. Additionally, Indo-Caribbeans were perceived as being on the margins from Canadian society, as they were often conflated with being Pakistani, because of their physical appearances. Thus, young Indo-Caribbeans are often stuck in interplay between being perceived as South Asian, but also not fitting into Blackness, which is mostly dominated by Afro-Caribbean identities.

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Ethno-racial categorization is a main catalyst for how and why different groups identify (Nagel, 1994; Anthias, 1996; Omni and Winant, 2014). Ethnic identity is shaped not only by cultural affiliation, but also by the histories and positioning of certain groups in relation to the physical environment they are part of (Olzak, 1983; Foner, 2007; Warikoo, 2004). In looking at Indo-Caribbean identity in New York, it is evident that the dynamic between having a multi-faceted identity, and not fully identifying with ethno-racial categories in place, has catalyzed a need for a more specific category. Still, Indo-Caribbean does not just serve as a category. As shown in the further sections, it also identifies a diasporic consciousness and cultural identity (Sokefeld, 2006).

2.2 Understanding and Interrogating Diaspora

Ethno-racial categorization in the U.S. transgresses the boundaries of group formations that may have existed outside of the U.S (Nagel, 1994). In understanding how Caribbean Indians navigate ethno-racial categorizations, it important to contextualize and historicize their experiences not only in the United States, but also in Caribbean countries like Guyana and Trinidad. The South Asian diaspora to the Caribbean, and the subsequent Indo-Caribbean diaspora to North America are essential to Indo-Caribbean identifications (Mishra, 1996; Rahemtullah, 2010). I explore how mobilizations and identifications with the term Indo-Caribbean implicate the formation of a diasporic consciousness and identity.

Scholars have taken many approaches to understand and define the boundaries of a diaspora. Clifford challenges the notion of the “ideal diaspora,” privileging the homeland. He argues that the homeland is a mere place of attachment, whereas diasporas are characterized by the intersection of roots and routes, fostering “community

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consciousness and solidarity” (1994:308). Boundary-making is integral and is a strategy for mobilization and recognition; people in a diaspora mobilize different sets of culture and political identities and set limits to where the boundaries of a ‘community’ are established” (1994: 315) Additionally, Clifford asserts that twice-migrant groups such as South Asians, complicate the importance of the homeland to a diasporic group. The South Asian diaspora is not defined by specific roots, but rather, “an ability to recreate a culture in diverse locations” (Clifford, 1994: 307). A diasporic consciousness is a way to seek recognition, and to redraw boundaries and connections that surpass certain notions of place and even nationhood. It is relational, and not pre-given, arising within a diasporic context; it ties together “partially connected histories” which are “reinvented” depending on time and space. Clifford highlights this distinction, which privileges identifications rather than identities (1994: 321). He asserts, “The empowering paradox of diaspora is that dwelling here assumes a solidarity and connection there. But there is not necessarily a single place or an exclusivist nation” (Clifford, 1994: 322). Vertovec (1997) also illustrates the multi-locality of a diasporic consciousness and how it often emergences as a form of resistance to gain more visibility in different public spaces. A diasporic consciousness connects the local to the global, and can take on different forms in various communities; it goes against the model of a traditional diaspora.

Many have continued to challenge the notion of an “ideal diaspora,” by broadening the definition to include various groups and waves of diasporas (Clifford, 1994; Cohen, 1997; Brubaker, 2005) For example, Anthias (1998) argues that this ignores transethnic relations and also disregards the intersectionalities of race, class and gender in shaping the diasporic experience. In doing so, diaspora scholarship shapes and uses ethnicity as a primordial aspect, stemming from origins and ideas of the homeland.

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These essentialist ideas of cultural identity and ethnicity are constantly reinstated within diaspora literature. Instead, it is important to acknowledge that, "diasporas are not homogenous...they may have formed different collective representations of the group under local conditions" (Anthias, 1998). Therefore, positionality, or the conditions in which one’s position within social structures arises, is key in how diasporas manifest and is especially important when looking at constructions of ethnicity, identity and culture in both the country of origin and the current place of residence.

Brubaker (2005) also emphasizes the tendency to essentialize diasporas by fixating on consistent boundaries, noting that there are often counter-currents that presuppose “hybridity, fluidity, creolization, syncretism” (12). This also equates it with essentialized ideas of belonging (2005:12). With these ideas in mind, diaspora literature should not take for granted the substantialist idea of a putative diaspora as a fixed “entity” (Brubaker, 2005). Instead the focus should be shifted to look at diasporas as “an idiom, a stance, a claim.” In this way a diaspora can serve as a category of practice that is used to mobilize around specific projects.

Sokefeld (2006) further builds on Anthias’ (1998) and Brubaker’s (2005) ideas about essentialism. He argues for a constructivist approach to understand the relationship between mobilizations around diasporic consciousness and how groups identify with primordialist ideas of belonging. The formation of a diaspora highlights how people mobilize around specific identities. He applies social movement theory to these mobilizations arguing that they are dependent on three issues: political opportunities, mobilizing structures, and practices and framing (2006).

Tololyan (2007) builds on these ideas, while also emphasizing the fluidity of collective identification and mobilization within a diaspora. He highlights four current

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features of a modern diaspora, in a way that centers on: Collective trauma and memory; hybridization; the performance of difference; and a connection to the homeland or kin communities.3 A diaspora is not fixed, but a “process of collective identification” characterized by “ever-changing differences” and flexible boundaries, often existing porously amongst other communities. Therefore, individuals in a diaspora can see themselves as linked to their surrounding communities but still different. This also occurs in relation to the homeland: a diaspora can see itself as linked to the homeland but different from the people in the homeland (2007). Tololyan emphasizes that difference is formative to how diasporic boundaries are constructed, and how identifications unfold. Within these constructions, diasporic communities often invent “new fictions of shared identity” (Tololyan, 2007).

In focusing specifically on the notion of an Indo-Caribbean diaspora, Mishra (1996) and Lokaisingh-Meighoo (1998) expand on these theories above, highlighting the notion of a double diaspora, and the importance of difference in constructing a diasporic boundaries and consciousness. There have been two waves of the Indian diaspora: the old Indian diaspora of indentureship and the new diaspora of more Indian professionals. The Indian diaspora fantasizes the homeland based on the trauma and rupture of the indentureship experience (Mishra, 1996: 7). Mishra also alludes to a double diaspora that Clifford previously noted, in which the old becomes part of the new. This is depicted through the movement of Fiji-Indians to Vancouver or Trinidadian-Indians to Toronto. Similar to the other literature Mishra emphasizes the importance of locality and spatiality in defining how diasporic consciousness and identity transforms (Anthias, 1998; Brubaker, 2005; and Tololyan, 2007).

3_{Kin communities are defined as those who come from the same diáspora and country of origin, but settled}

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Moreover, in exemplifying Mishra’s approach to diaspora, Lokaisingh-Meighoo outwardly defines an Indo-Caribbean diaspora, as a double diaspora that holds on to both Indian and Caribbean subjectivities (1998). He denotes the importance of the trauma and rupture of indentureship, and specifically illustrates how the Afro-Caribbean diaspora has been used as model to excavate and define the Indo-Caribbean diaspora. Both diasporas are characterized by rupture and trauma, and have parallel waves of diasporic movement. The Afro-Caribbean diaspora first started with the Middle passage and then migration to North America. On the other hand, the crossing of the Kala Pani, or black waters, during indentureship, and the later migration to North America from the Caribbean marks the Indo-Caribbean diaspora. In making these distinctions. He argues that scholars tend to compare diasporas, using a singular model in doing so, but the differences between the histories must always be noted.

In moving forward with this literature, I will situate Guyanese Indians as part of a double, two-fold diaspora, which positions them as both Guyanese Indians and Indo-Caribbean, and frames a diasporic consciousness that emerges with the proximity of kin communities in New York (Lokaisingh-Meighoo, 1998). The positionality of Indo-Guyanese as a majority ethnic group in Richmond Hill underpins the construction of this diasporic consciousness, which emerges from collective mobilization within the community (Clifford, 1994; Anthias, 1998). This consciousness is predicated on a notion of difference, which highlights a shared collective memory of the South Asian diaspora to the Caribbean (Mishra, 1996; Lokaisingh-Meighoo, 1998). Moreover, mobilization around this consciousness reinstates ideas of belonging that are used to navigate ethno-racial categories in the United States

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2.3 Fluid Diasporic Identities

Identity formation is integral in constructing the fluid boundaries of a diaspora and diasporic consciousness. In understanding Indo-Caribbean identifications, it is important to unpack how a specific Indo-Caribbean identity is fabricated from this mobilization around a diasporic consciousness.

Hall (1990) emphasizes that a cultural diasporic identity is a constant production that is always, “constituted within representation” (Hall, 1990). Thus, the positions and positionalities of various subjectivities within the Caribbean help construct and demarcate different histories. He denotes two forms of cultural identity, a term that is defined as locating different histories of ourselves, that constructs “points of identification” and positionality (1990). The first form of cultural identity emphasizes a notion of collectivity or a “one true self,” resting within a more unified and singular common history and ancestry. Historicity is key to how this type of cultural identity unfolds. The second position accounts for difference in the ways in which ideas or recognition of history unfolds within identity; it is an identification, or the process of becoming. It acknowledges that identities are constantly transforming and are “subject to the continuous play of history, culture and power.” Hall (2001) also emphasizes that one’s perception of their position in the present and the past are key elements to how a diasporic cultural identity is created and reproduced. The colonial experience is important especially within this idea of cultural identity. In tracing cultural identity, he interrogates the notion of diaspora in the Caribbean, problematizing the idea of a “classic diaspora” and instead associating his conception to hybridity, meaning those identities that are

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“constantly producing and reproducing themselves anew through transformation and difference.” Thus, a diasporic identity is maintained through difference, and is a constant process.

Furthermore, Anthias (1998) explores the relationship between diasporic identity and ethnic identity. She asserts that identity and ‘cultural narrative of belonging” within a diaspora take on “ethnic forms, which are themselves centrally linked to location, in terms of territory and social positioning.” Therefore, a diasporic identity is often premised on an ethnic identity within the host country. She maintains that, "different narratives around identity and culture come into play to pursue particular political projects" (1998). In doing so it is important to consider the ethnic projects existing in the country of origin and current country of residence. Therefore, claims to different ethnic identities, and a diasporic consciousness, emerge depending on political agendas and social positioning.

Roopnaraine (2006) expands on this notion of an ethnic diasporic identity in relation to different Indian subjectivities and positioning within the Caribbean. He contends that there is a mis-recognition of “coolitude” in the Caribbean, a term referring to those whose ancestors were indentured servants from South Asia.4 Certain academic terms such as creolization have often been used as a way to privilege black identities in the Caribbean. A creolized culture is premised on ideas of a black culture, implying that Caribbean Indians should integrate into a dominant black culture. However, Indian identity in the Caribbean is fluid, and can take on different positionalities based on place and space. He asserts that there are four levels in which Indians in the Caribbean identify:

4_{The term “coolie” was historically used derogatorily to refer to indentured servants brought to the}

Caribbean with the British West Indies Company. “Coolie” literally means cheap labor in hindi (Bahadur 2014).

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ethno—local, national, trans-Caribbean, and universal. The ethno-local focuses on the maintaining of customs and traditions ethno-locally, in predominantly rural areas in the Caribbean. An ethno-national identity views Indo-Caribbean as sharing ties to both an ancestral homeland and a larger Caribbean community; this identity is diasporic, and “accommodates and allows East Indians in Diasporic communities to maintain a separate identity from Whites, Black West Indians, and South Asians” (Roopnaraine, 2006). Furthermore, a supposed less common ethno-trans Caribbean identity positions East Indians as part of a larger community of Caribbean Indians. Lastly, an ethno-universal identity relates Caribbean Indians to other Indians from the labor diaspora in places like Fiji and Mauritius (Roopnaraine, 2006).

Moreover, Rahemtullah (2007) argues that the Caribbean Indian community in Canada constructs a collective identity by largely recreating and reimagining ideas of India, which are attached to feelings of trauma and the literal promises of return that were never kept. Despite this longing for India, there is not actual desire to return to India (Rahemtullah, 2010; Loikasingh-Meighoo, 1998). Instead, India is perceived and reconstructed as part of the Caribbean. In analyzing the book The Swinging Bride, he illustrates that Indian ancestry has served as a main factor in shaping certain Caribbean and Trinidadian subjectivities, but forms part of an overall attachment and belonging to the Caribbean.

Diasporic cultural identity is fluid and hybrid; it is something that is ever-changing based on specific contexts and social positioning (Hall, 2001). A diasporic identity is also an ethnic identity premised on shared cultural narratives (Anthias, 1998). This analysis locates an Indo-Caribbean diasporic identity that has been re-constructed within everyday local contexts in South Richmond Hill. The social position of Caribbean Indians in this

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neighborhood stimulates an “ethno-trans-Caribbean” identity that recognizes the Indo-Caribbean diasporic history and culture (Roopnaraine, 2006). It is a way to assert belonging to both Caribbeanness and some forms of Indianness that stem from the indentureship experience. I contend that it also acknowledges a history and cultural identity that has been lost amongst discourse of a creolized black Caribbean.

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Chapter 3 Contextualizing Race in Guyana and Indo-Guyanese Migration to New York

City

In order to contextualize the framework for this research, it is critical to historicize the culture of difference in the Caribbean, rooted in racial tensions between those of African and Indian descent. The maintenance of differences is key in constructing the boundaries that create an Indo-Caribbean identification and consciousness (Rahemtullah, 2010; Lokaisingh-Meighoo, 1998). As Nagel (1994) argues, history and culture shape ethnic constructions; it is important to consider the ethnic makeup in the country of origin when trying to understand ethno-racial formations in the United States (Nagel, 1994). Ethnic divisions between Africans and Indians in countries like Guyana and Trinidad and Tobago influence the large presence of Indo-Guyanese in South Richmond Hill, and the subsequent use of “Indo-Caribbean” (Plaza, 2006). This chapter will explore these dynamics, and also show how they influenced Indo-Guyanese migration to North American in the late 70s and early 80s.

3.1 Locating Race in Guyana

In a 1988 paper delivered to commemorate the 150th anniversary of Indian arrival to Guyana, former president Cheddi Jagan, the first Indo-Guyanese to hold office, proclaimed:

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“It is short-sighted to see the ‘Caribbean man’ only as a ‘Black man,’ and

Caribbean culture as African culture. Apart from the different countries of their

origin, both our Black slave and Indian indenture ancestors watered the sugar cane with their blood. Through their struggles and sacrifices, they have made valuable contributions to our historical and social development.” (Jagan, May 1988)

This assertion unpacks two main dynamics at play in this research: the lack of representation and recognition of diasporic Caribbean Indians and the subsequent de-legitimization of Indian subjectivities in the Caribbean. Jagan’s remarks note the colonial era divisions that still characterize racial tensions in post-colonial Guyana. Policies implemented by the British colonial regime to “divide and rule’ Blacks and Indians, reified stereotypes and negative perceptions of both groups (Puri, 2004: 170). At the same time, post-colonial agendas backed by the United States and Britain further enhanced racial division along political lines in Guyana (Bahadur, 2015). During the postcolonial period in which Black power movements and Pan-Africanism dominated, the Caribbean was largely painted as a black space (Dabydeen, 1993). In many ways, Indians in the Caribbean, although composing the majority in countries like Guyana, are a subaltern presence, historically neglected in Western postcolonial discourse about a largely homogenous Caribbean (Spivak, 1988).

The social construction of ethnic conflict in the Caribbean dates back to the first ships that arrived with the British East India Company to Guyana in 1838. The British officially ended slavery throughout their colonies in 1834, cutting off the free labor that sustained much of their wealth. The indentureship program supported by the British and Indian governments sought laborers from mainly lower caste and marginalized

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backgrounds in India and China to work on the sugar plantations, replacing former slave labor. Indentures were brought to the British colonies of Guyana, Trinidad and Tobago, and Jamaica in the Caribbean and also to Fiji, Mauritius, and South Africa. All of the contracts guaranteed a free return passage to India within five to ten years, although less than 25% of indentured servants actually returned to India. Exactly 238,669 indentures arrived to Guyana between 1838 and 1917 when indentureship officially ended. Reverend CF Andrews, Gandhi’s adviser, visited Guyana in 1929 and recalled the inhumane living conditions of indentured Indians on the plantations (Dabydeen, 1993: 28). During this time period blacks mostly moved away from such areas, seeking jobs and educational opportunities in Georgetown, the capital city. Subsequently, the expansion of jobs from American navel bases and the bauxite industry fostered these moves to Georgetown, where the population rose to 100,000 Afro-Guyanese in the 1940 (Bissessar and La Guerre, 2014).

Today, over 20% of the English-speaking Caribbean is of Indian descent. Guyana has the largest concentration of Indians making up about 43.5% of the population (Bissesar and La Guerre, 2014). Many scholars also note that Guyana has the starkest racial divisions out of any Caribbean country; Blacks and Indians live in the same areas, but with very little interactions (Birbalsingh, 1987; Bissessar and La Guerre, 2014). Birbalsingh (1987) notes that the “seeds” of racial division were planted during the colonial era, in which the indentureship system inherently placed blacks and Indians against each other. Job competition enhanced these divisions. This was further heightened when the British granted land credit to some indentures instead of return passages; many Afro-Guyanese felt a claim to the land that they had worked on for centuries before (Puri, 2004: 172). Additionally, the low wages given to indentures

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compromised the bargaining power of blacks for higher wages (Dabydeen, 1993: 27). Moreover, the British regime reinforced stereotypes and perceptions of Indians and Africans that were largely depicted and promoted in local newspapers. Indians were portrayed as menial yet thrifty “coolies,” whereas blacks were illustrated as lazy and sexualized (Birbalsingh, 1987).

Puri (2004) also highlights how the British regime maintained separations by keeping certain Indian festivals such as Diwali and Hosay from mixing with Afro-Caribbean creole culture. Under the contracts of indentureship, Indians were guaranteed the right to freely practice their religions. This stipulation allowed for Indians to maintain their cultural practices through religion, which became a main factor in asserting their strength and presence in the Caribbean.

Interestingly, many note that these divisions were not as exaggerated as they are today. Indians and Blacks were said to live generally peacefully amongst each other, and there are many accounts of solidarity between both groups in movements against the British Empire. At the same time, Indians constantly negotiated their right to belong in Guyana. Land ownership became a fundamental aspect in rooting Indo-Guyanese, and Indians in many other Caribbean countries. Still, hegemonic creole culture dominated during the independence of both Guyana and Trinidad and Tobago in 1964 (Puri, 2004). During the this period, the global attention to Black power and Pan-African movements facilitated a consciousness of the legacy of the Atlantic slave trade. Pan-Africanism dominated and strong figures like Marcus Garvey and Walter Rodney represented Caribbean interests in the United States and Europe (Birbalsingh, 1987). Additionally, in Guyana, many blacks feared having Indian political dominance after centuries of living under British power during the slavery period (Dabydeen, 1993:30).

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In 1953, the People’s Progressive Party (PPP), largely based on Marxism-Leninism principles, was formed and led by future Guyanese presidents Cheddi Jagan and Forbes Burnham. Because of the party’s anti-colonialist main agenda, and Jagan’s more radical views, he was accused of being a communist. The British deployed forces to Guyana in fear that his platform would overturn their rule. Additionally, he was depicted favoring Indo-Guyanese, as his principle platform pushed for changes in the agricultural sector, which was largely dominated by Indians. Due to this backlash, Burnham split from the PPP, and with the help of the British government formed the People’s National Congress (PNC) in 1957. (Bissesar and La Guerre, 2014)

The split, which was largely drawn alone ethnic lines, sparked a series of racial violence that reached its peak from 1961 to 1964. The 1961 elections were integral in enhancing these racial divisions along political lines (Bissessar and La Guerre, 2014:79). PPP still dominated the votes won in this election, further heightening fear of Jagan’s dominance and socialist values. Because of this, the British and U.S. governments painted Burnham as the best candidate, and the CIA backed many initiatives to fund opposition groups to the PPP and to emphasize anti-Jagan sentiments. Jagan eventually won the election in 1964 against PNC. However, the US and British government worked together to allow Burnham to join a third-party, the United Force, forming the PNC and giving him majority votes (Bahadur, 2015). This rigged election formed a basis for Burnham’s 11 years in power, which was filled with corruption and many more falsified elections.

The Burnham era was the prime period in which mostly Indo-Guyanese migrated to North America. Indians felt threatened and attacked by the regime, as Burnham’s policies ignored the rural areas where they resided. There were many food shortages, and

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lack of basic necessities like running water, which affected both blacks and Indians. Still, many Indo-Guyanese saw Burnham as reinstating anti-Indian sentiments felt by Afro-Guyanese. In an account of “Indo-Guyanese Resistance,” Dabydeen (1993) emphasizes this trauma felt by many Indo-Guyanese. He claims that, “there is no going back home, because there is no home to go back to.” This idea of having a connection to a place but no longer perceiving it as feasible place to call home, is in many ways emblematic of the Indo-Guyanese and Caribbean Indian struggle.

The colonial and postcolonial history of Guyana shapes the racial politics dividing the country today, and also characterizes neighboring countries like Trinidad and Tobago. Ironically, the Guyanese national motto, “One People, One Nation, One Destiny,” fosters an idea of unity in a racially divided country. Although culturally there may be fusion of food and holidays, ethnic discord prevails especially along political lines. The discourse of cultural hybridity masks the lack of racial hybridity and unity (Puri, 2004). This in many ways also allows for the continued marginalization of Indians in the Caribbean. Even though PPP shaped more recent Guyanese politics after Jagan eventually became president in 1992, the Burnham era still overpowers the memories of Indo-Guyanese who fled. Political divisions reify ethnic divisions and in many ways strengthen their claims.

In developing this research, it is also important that in New York Guyanese of Indian and African descent live in different parts of the city. Many reports highlight that predominantly Indo-Guyanese reside in Queens, whereas majority Afro-Guyanese live in Brooklyn (Min Gap, 2013). While this may not be directly related to persisting racial tensions in Guyana, it is evident that there is an ingrained separateness and noted difference between these two groups. At the same time, Brooklyn is famous for being home to the largest black West Indian community in New York, comprising of majority

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Jamaicans, with large numbers of Afro Guyanese, Trinidadians, and Bajans. The large presence of Caribbeanness in Brooklyn may in turn foster the creation and assertion of Indo-Caribbeanness in Queens. The following chapters will explore this question, in trying to understand why a distinct Indo-Caribbean identification is being asserted in South Richmond Hill.

3.2 Guyanese Migration to New York

Migration from the English-speaking Caribbean to the United States emerged with the 1965 Immigration Act, which loosened immigration restrictions, and made it easier for many people from the global south to secure visas (Narine and Gosine, 2005). Jamaicans were some

of the first to migrate to New York; many women were recruited as domestic workers pre 1965, establishing roots principally in Brooklyn (Narine and Gosine, 2005). As the post-Independence era emerged following British rule, many began to migrate from countries like Barbados and Trinidad and Tobago, with a tendency to also settle in Brooklyn.

Figure 3.1 shows the various communities of foreign born Guyanese in New York City, mostly concentrated in Queens and Brooklyn. As mentioned previously, large numbers of Guyanese fled to the United States during the Burnham era in the early 70’s and 80’s. At the same time, Trinidad and Tobago went through an economic recession,

Figure 3.1: Guyanese presence in New York

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which also pushed many to migrate in the late 70’s and 80’s. Currently, over half of Guyanese in the United States reside in New York City (Newest New Yorkers, 2013: 5). Amongst Guyanese in New York, it can be argued that neighborhood choices remnant of these ethno-racial divisions between Guyanese of African and Indian descent. 79% or about 65,000 Indo-Guyanese live in Queens while 57% or about 24,000 of Afro-Guyanese reside in Brooklyn (Newest New Yorkers, 2013: 94). These high percentages show that especially Indo-Guyanese, are more inclined to live in Queens and within neighborhoods amongst other Guyanese of Indian descent. Interestingly, the report also indicates that 73% of Trinidadians of Indian descent reside in Queens, whereas in general 2/3 of Trinidadians of African descent reside in Brooklyn. This proximity of Indo-Trinidadians and Indo-Guyanese facilitates the formation and recognition of a specific Indo-Caribbean diasporic identification.

Figure 3.2 shows the top 10 neighborhoods inhabited by Guyanese. Out of the Guyanese in Queens, about 32,000 Guyanese are in Richmond Hill and neighboring South Ozone Park; these two neighborhoods contain the largest number of Guyanese. By 1990s the Guyanese enclave in Richmond Hill expanded south to South Ozone Park; there are also large populations of Guyanese

in Jamaica and Queens Village, both in Queens. With a population of nearly 37,000, Richmond Hill is a fitting example of an urban multi-ethnic neighborhood in New York City. As such, the neighborhood is rightfully divided between long-term, mostly white residents of Italian

Figure 3.2: Top 10 neighborhoods with Guyanese

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and Irish descent, and more recent immigrants from South Asia, the Caribbean, and Latin America (McGovern and Frazier, 2015). Still, Indo-Guyanese are a majority population in this neighborhood, which is evident mainly in South Richmond Hill, which borders South Ozone Park. The concentration is so high that for years many have fondly labeled this part of Queens as “Little Guyana.”

Within Richmond Hill, Guyanese compose 1/3 of all immigrants, making them the majority immigrant population in the neighborhood, followed by 16% Indians and 8% Trinidadians (Newest New Yorkers: 58). The majority of Indians living in Richmond Hill are Sikhs, as the neighborhood hosts some of the largest Sikh religious centers in the east coast (McGovern and Frazier, 2015). Despite this presence, there are noted differences between Indians and Indo-Guyanese; both communities live almost separately, sharing mostly public spaces (Min Gap, 2013). The report indicates that Guyanese and Trinidadians living in this area are primarily of “Asian Indian” descent; this particular distinction recognizes the similarities between these two populations, while noting the ethnic heterogeneity of the West Indies. Interestingly, members of ICA helped in making this distinction within this report; this will be further discussed in Chapters 5 and 6.

3.3 Conclusions

Racial tensions in Guyana stem from the colonial period, and are rooted politically. People of Indian descent make up the majority ethnic group in countries like Guyana and Trinidad, yet an image of a black Caribbean still predominates in discourse and academic literature about the Caribbean. Many scholars, including Stuart Hall, who writes about the Caribbean, seem to ignore this large Indian presence. The marginalization of Indians in Guyana during Burnham’s leadership instilled a desire to

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migrate from Guyana with little hopes of returning (Dabydeen, 1993). This other experience of trauma, of being forced to leave one’s home, has fostered the construction of large Indo-Guyanese communities throughout Queens. With the presence of Trinidadian Indians, there has been a push to recognize a specific Caribbean Indian history, culture and identity both in the United States and the Caribbean.

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Chapter 4 Methods and Research Design

The questions underlying my research facilitated an exploratory qualitative approach to understand the Caribbean Alliance’s (ICA) mobilization around Indo-Caribbean identifications in South Richmond Hill. The standing literature relating to Indo-Guyanese and Indo-Caribbeans often incorporates theoretical and qualitative methods. Many recent studies have looked at the fluid nature of Indo-Caribbean identity using case studies in New York City and Canada (Warikoo, 2004; Min Gap, 2013; Tanikella, 2009).

Warikoo (2004) used ethnographic methods to understand identity formation amongst 1.5 and second-generation Guyanese youth making up a majority population in a high school in Richmond Hill. She conducted in-depth, semi-structured interviews questioning youth about their tastes and cultural backgrounds. Also, Tanikella (2009) examined the connection between media usage and the maintenance of transnational ties within this neighborhood. Using both interviews and document analysis, her methods show the formative role of a Caribbean Indian community in navigating these dynamics of ethnicity, diaspora, and transnational links.

Further, Min Gap’s (2010) study also looks at Richmond Hill, Queens, and uses quantitative data from the American Community Survey. He conducted survey questionnaires with 41 open-ended questions to about 105 respondents. His questions

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mostly focused on social and cultural identity: religion, food preferences, music tastes, marriage, and education.

Moreover, studies on diaspora and diasporic identity maintain an overall theoretical analysis, with some in-depth literary document analysis (Clifford 1994, Mishra 1996, Hall 2001, Rahemtullah 2010). Still, as diasporic identity is something that is constantly being constructed and reconstructed based on certain contexts, it is important to look at specific cases to understand diasporic consciousness and identity (Hall 2001, Roopnaraine 2006, Anthias 1998). The nuances of ethnic identifications and diasporic communities suggest that both can emerge in similar fashions, and in response to ethnic categorization or collective mobilizations that may exist in the country of residence (Anthias 1998, Tololyan, Brubaker, Nagel 1994).

Inspired by these studies and my own personal biography, growing up in a Guyanese household, I chose to center this project on South Richmond Hill, Queens. This neighborhood has the largest concentration of Guyanese, Trinidadians and Surinamese of Indian descent, living within the same area. Additionally, many academic researchers have noted a more recent use of the term Indo-Caribbean in North American neighborhoods with large concentrations of West Indians of Indian descent (Plaza 2006; Rahemtullah 2010, Loikasingh-Meighoo 1998).

As I am exploring the implications of Indo-Caribbean identifications, I looked specifically for active community organizations that either had a connection with or advocated for the term. As Brubaker (2004) highlights, community organizations are key in promoting specific ethnic categories and identities. The Indo-Caribbean Alliance (ICA) formed in 2010 as an NGO based in South Richmond Hill with a mission, “to unify and advance Indo-Caribbean and South Asian interests by fostering joint and

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collaborative actions among different peoples, organizations and businesses” (ICA Website). The group’s interest in merging “Indo-Caribbean” and “South Asian” assumes a collective understanding of Indo-Caribbean, but also complicates this notion by asserting both an identification with and distinction from neighboring South Asian communities. Their work is mostly based in Richmond Hill, but extends to neighboring areas with large concentrations of Caribbean Indians such as South Ozone Park and Jamaica. ICA offers multiple programs that focus strictly on youth development and cultural enhancement targeted at Caribbean Indians. It is the only organization for Caribbean Indians run by a younger generation, raised in New York City. It is also one of the key groups advocating for the more official use of the term Indo-Caribbean.

Therefore, ICA highlights the dynamics that I explore in this research. During an initial meeting held in August 2015 with the board members, I informed them about my proposed research and my interest in collaborating with them as a focal point to my research. Given my time restraint and the limited research done on this topic, I decided to center my methodology on this organization and those affiliated or actively involved in their mission. My participants were chosen purposefully. I incorporated four main parts in conducting this research:

1) Field Observation of Richmond Hill

2) Participant Observation at ICA events and Tutoring Session 3) Social Media Data Analysis

4) Semi- Structured Interviews with members of ICA and affiliated individuals

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The local context of South Richmond Hill is integral to how Indo-Caribbean identifications unfold in New York (Min Gap 2013, Tanikella 2009, Warikoo 2004). Warren and Karner (2013) argue that settings where one is already a member can be ideal

in conducting research. Throughout my six weeks of fieldwork in New York, I made over ten trips to Richmond Hill, and more specifically, Liberty Avenue, which is the commercial hub for this community. I conducted two self-guided walking tours: one mainly along Liberty Avenue, and another one along 101 Avenue, which is also a major road in this area (See Image 4.1).

In many ways Richmond Hill serves as an anchor for these identifications. The neighborhood itself contains a plethora of visual markers that distinguish an Indo-Caribbean identification through mainly cultural aspects (See Table 4.1). Religious shops, food stores, Hindu Mandirs and Masjids line the streets, with loud chutney and soca music blasting on every block. In walking down Liberty Avenue, there is a blatant Caribbean Indian and more specifically

Indo-Guyanese image

pervading the area. The biggest medical clinic in the area is named after

famed Indo-Guyanese,

Table 4. 1 Markers of Caribbean "Indian-ness” in Richmond Hill

Image 4.1. Map of South Richmond Hill Source: (Kilgannon, 2009)

Locating the “Jahaji” : negotiating Indo-Caribbean identifications in South Richmond Hill