Who is “Who Who” on Twocanview


Apparently people didn’t find this on the site but it is under “Welcome to Our Blog-Fayemarie Anderson Carter”.

So…who am I? First off, I am a woman. I am a citizen of the world and I belong to no one. I have faced unbelievable circumstances all my life and even before I was  born. Basically, I shouldn’t  be here. My mother had a difficult pregnancy and was on bed rest the last months. With all the precautions taken and advantages of having a father who was a medical intern, it still didn’t prevent me from being born premature and kinda dead for a while. That should have been the clue to the world “Watch out! She’s a fighter!” Well but, I didn’t always know that and many things knocked me down and there were times I felt hopeless and helpless.

I had a very confusing, complicated childhood. I felt like I had each foot in a different world so that I was constantly trying to balance between them. There were a lot of misconceptions about my family and our intentions. It went from “You’re white, you don’t care”; “You’re rich; why do you care?” to “Oh you’re poor, who cares?” Despite all that, I couldn’t help but grow up with an intense feeling of obligation and sense of civic duty. I was a quiet child (the irony, I know) so I was often unseen as I observed adults (many of whom, became leaders of our communities) discuss, argue, make plans and sound ridiculous. I was in the back of a government  vehicle once, when an adviser to a minister (no names) actually recommended that we remove social studies from the elementary school curriculum and I was just stupefied by this intense stupidity. His estimation of social studies was “it is a waste of time”. With this attitude, we wonder why we are where we are????

On the other hand, living in Dangriga, I couldn’t very well insulate  and isolate myself from the realities of regular folk. First of all, I lived smack dab in the middle of town. All the shops, the police station, the banks, churches, schools, government offices and the hospital was right there within a two block radius. Secondly, I didn’t want to. I wanted to play “toad” and punta and “bathe sea”. I wanted to crack my supa seed with the door stop by the church. I wanted to “plait” my hair and “walk bout street”. Even if people wanted to think that I was not part of the society because of my parents, my ancestry (I lived on a street named after my paternal family for goodness’ sake) anyone who looked closely would have seen that I faced many of the same issues everyone else did and then some. Not only did I have to wait every day for my dad to see a patient so I could get $10 to buy bread and milk, people wanted us to donate to everything. I always got picked, in school, to donate the most expensive item like a chicken or the cake. Multiply that times 4 Anderson children and that was half our weekly grocery budget.

I was often ashamed and proud at the same time. Crazy making, I tell you. Case in point. My dad loves to spread Christmas cheer to those who wouldn’t otherwise know it. I understood that about my dad and actually, I am so guilty of it myself. The price for that? I wrapped hundreds of gifts for everyone else while my Christmas gift was the bloody Christmas dress I needed to wear to church. Some gift. LOL. Or how about that time I got a blanket, or the time I got a fan? (I was glad for it don’t mind me)  but I was a kid too dammit and I wanted toys! I really did only have two church dresses. My snobbish middle class friends loved to make feel me inferior because they had the latest styles from “States” and would tell me things like “Gial, u noh fraid da dress staat to talk?” Stupid, mean girls.

The blessing of this kind of upbringing is that I learned to empathize. I learned what it feels like to not belong and I didn’t belong anywhere. Too po fi di rich pipple, too white fi di po pipple and when I moved to the States, not white enough for the Americans. So,  I learned to like myself. I had to. Nobody else did! I read and read and read. I would get lashin’ because I was reading books and not washing the dishes or I let the clothes get wet on the line because I forgot to pick them in. I learned to make toys out of old seasoning cans and match boxes; I turned them into doll house furniture. I made dolls out of mangoes and tried to sew my own doll clothes (I say try because I often made them too tight LOL). Books were like gold to me. Everything I read, I depended on the library for so that the highlight of my year, was when the ship came from England with new library books. I read about Judy and  Maisy and nothing was more hotly traded than the latest Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys book. When I was actually GIVEN a book, I treasured it and read and reread till it damn near fell apart. I still had the books Mary K Carridi (I called her Aunt Kath, back then) gave me until 1998 when I left them with my parents, not knowing that they would be following me not a few months later. Sorry, Kathy, but I think the books,  a copy of Jack and Jill published in 1898 and B is for Betsy, were lost in one of the hurricanes . Those books, the latter, especially, gave me dreams of another kind of childhood, filled with pink clouds and fantasy, sweet memory for sure.

Today, I am married to an American and I have two girls, 19 and 10. I have lived in different countries and states. Just look at my Facebook page and you’ll see all the colleges/universities I “visited” 🙂 I graduated in 2006 from Adler Graduate School with an MA in Counseling Psychology but I haven’t written my thesis yet (long story) so I may never actually get that piece of paper :P. Fingers crossed, I’ll get it done soon now that I am a work at home mom, again. Before now, I worked in the Bloomington, MN school system as a contracted therapist/case manager in a special education program. I worked with children and families struggling with challenges that come with diagnoses of emotional/behavioural disorders such as ADHD, ODD, Bi-polar, Depression, Anxiety, Autism.

I was asked by Aria Lightfoot to be part of this blog addressing the issues facing our Belizean people and I didn’t hesitate for more than a second. Politics have scarred my heart but I decided to take a chance anyway and be a part of what I hope becomes known as a “revolution”. I hope to impart knowledge and insight but mostly compassion and empathy for our fellow citizens. We won’t get anywhere if we don’t understand that we are all in it together. Blue and Red makes PURPLE and that’s where we are: bruised and battered.

Birds on da Wire by Fayemarie Anderson Carter


Bernice “Bernie” Toucan sees her friend Doo Doo “Dodes” Chickadee sitting on the wires at the junction of Fortification and Judgement Streets. Dodes looks worried. Bernie decides to go see what’s bothering her friend. Dodes worries about a lot of things. She is easily frightened by everyday happenings but lately, it seems to have gotten worse. Bernie reflects that Dodes doesn’t even seem to smile lately.

“Hey, Dodes. You seem so pensive today. What’s up?” asked Bernie.

Dodes doesn’t look at Bernie but starts talking. “You see Johnny John Crow over there? That’s nevah good. He only come rung when someting bad about fi happun.”

Bernie sighs. “Dodes, you can’t let him bother you. It’s just his nature. He ciant help it.”

At this, Dodes looks at Bernie. “I’m scared Bernie. Things just seem to be getting worse and worse. My daughter’s friend Aaron Pope was killed the other day. Innocent little boy, sleepin in his bed, fuh no reason.” Dodes voice cracks with emotion. “Who is it gonna be next? What has to happen so all these young people realize that all this shooting and killing don’t do nuttin but destroy what little good we have left? Ah feel like nobadi give a shit nuhmo.”

“Dodes. You have to remember that not everybody is like that. There are people trying, trying real hard to get people to start thinking and maybe start doing something to help this situation. Like da gial, Aria. I have been reading her blog and she seems to be really fair about everything…none a dis party politics rass. Shi nu fraid fi nobadi, it seems. People like her, is exactly what we need.”

At this, Dodes gives a little smile, then a tiny chuckle. “Shi de awn nuh tru? Shi even use di “f” word!” exclaimed Dodes. Dodes threw her head back and start laughing real hard now. Her voice going up an octave, “Shi seh, shi seh to PUP ‘Grow the fuck up already'” At this Dodes is bawking from her belly, her whole body shaking, tears streaming down her face. “Bernie, gial. Ah jus cud imagine po George Price di roll inah ih grave! Buwhahahahahahaha! Aye! Aye! Mi belly di hurt!”

Bernie smiles at her friend. She knows that the laughter hides Dodes’ fears but it’s still nice to see her laugh a good belly laugh. It’s been too long.

“Hmmmmmm, Bernie gial. Whe u tink people like shi cud really do, huh?’ Bernie frowns as Dodes is serious again. “Ah mean, she is saying tings I wuda wa seh miself and ah know dat lotta pipple wudnt dare. You know, dey fraid fi lose dey job and soh. But, innah di end, whe shi cud really do, huh?”

Bernie looked at her friend. She was right. Nobody survived in Belize unscathed and could be downright destroyed when they said what this girl, Aria is.

“Well, Dodes. Wi cud hope dat di pen is mightier dan di sword. Ah mean, wi ciant do nuttin bout nuttin if wi nuh talk bout it fus. Look. nuttin get done in a hurry. Tings tek time. Tudeh she? Tomorrow? 20 mo like she. Instead ah jus siddung ya and worry, why wi nuh join dis gial, huh? Show her our support. After all shi di do dis fi wi right? Wi haftu believe dat good and sound judgement will prevail. Just look at history, Dodes. Ah bet during di Holocaust pipple felt like it would nevah end and den one day it did. Nuttin bad last forevah but wi ciant siddung rung and wait fuh mek ih done? Who di hell wa do it? WE, Dodes WE!”

“But Bernie. U noh andastand. What can I do? Ah nuh educated like you. Ah beahli di hold onto mi job da di facktry. Dey nuh wa give wi wa raise. Deh nuh wa wi unionize. Ah mean. Wot wa happen to me and my pickney if dey fiah mi? U know dey pipple who I work fah big innah politics.” Dodes pushed out her beak and shook her head. “Ah nuh know Berns. Ah fraid.”

“Ok Dodes. U have a valid point. But if we don’t help ourselves, who will? U noh tink my ma and your ma had dis very canvasation befo we had independence? People had to get together and fight! U wa end up like Jamaica? Caz ih look like dat fi real. Most ah fi dey people po no rass and deh gat parts a city yu bettah no dare go to. Some a di village dem nuh gat electricity at all! Still? innah dis day and age? Ah nuh want Belize tun like dat mein. U feel mi?”

Dodes looks at her smart, pretty friend and nods. “Alright Bernie. I will try. I will follow dis gial Aria and show her my support. I wa tell all mi other frens fi pay attention tu. Hey, Bernie. Who wudda tink that lee ole me wudda di du dis? All I duz k bout da bash pan Satuhdeh.”  Bawk, bawk,bawk “Aye dems were di gud ole days, huh, Bernie? Memba whe wi duz steps? Wi mi tink wi soh hot!”

“Talk fi yourself Dodes! Ah still got it girl!” Bernie thrust her chest out and swung her hips side to side.

The two friends laugh as they remember their blissfully, uncomplicated days as young girls, when nobody was shot and they could walk around at night without fear.  Days when all that mattered was a note from a boyfriend and holding hands excitedly with him as you walk by Baron Bliss grave…well more than walk, a stolen kiss or two. Those days seem so remote now; but, a tiny hope has sprung in their hearts, as they silently pledge their loyalty and lives to fight to take back their country from the clutches of corruption and greed. 

Jingle Bells


by Fayemarie Anderson Carter

Refrain:

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, all the way to hell
All dem palitician do da greedy up deyself.
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, all the way to hell
All dem palitican business unda di jail cell.

An election or two ago, dem promise wi a change,
But all we get instead is even more a di same
Red nar blue no mattah
Dey shoulda all just scattah
Cause inna di end, di money dem spend, da nuh pan me nor you NO!

Refrain
Time and time again, when election de rung di bend
Dem cum and tawk to you and seh how “we da fren”
But either way you vote, no wa rock di boat
Cas all a dey deh inna bed “tugethah forever”, dem said.

Refrain

Merry Christmas Baby


by Fayemarie Anderson Carter

Merry Christmas Baby,
You sure don’t treat me right.
Merry Christmas Baby,
You must not be too bright.
You turned down US AID,
You will ruin our paradise.

I feel like cryin’ y’all,
Listenin’ to the news on my radio,
I am now cryin’ y’all,
Listenin’ to the news on my radio, oh, oh, oh, oh
Feel like I’m gonna pass out,
What the hell is this all about?

Who wa feed mi pickney, baby?
Only me, y’all.
Nobody gat no money, baby
All I can do is bawwwwl.

Merry Christmas, Baby,
You sure don’t treat me right.
You act like you have our best interest,
But all you is fiiiiiight.