In French, Spanish, and Italian, the word “love” is similar in semantics and spelling.
Universally, that same word seems to carry a heavy burden. It’s a feeling that communities in this world thrive on: love of self, love of others and love of the identity of said community. My name, Ti-Amo, means love itself.
Originally, I was supposed to be named Ernesto Che, as in the great revolutionary Che Guevara. This changed when upon my birth at the University of West Indies hospital in Kingston, Jamaica, I was dead before I could even take my first breath.
My father, a physician, decided that instead of naming me Ernesto, he would name me Ti-Amo, which means “you are loved” in Spanish. He decided this in case I never took my first breath, at least I would know I was loved.
This letter is a careful reflection of what I have learned it means to be an activist in my community, a true reflection of my self-ethics and values, along with a final insight into how I will approach my future profession as an academic physician.
During my youth, especially my time in Canada, I quickly realized I was different from my peers. Although a part of the immigrant and minority communities, I come from a place of privilege.
My worldly experiences, being the son of a United Nations physician and scientist, the descendant of both the slave and slave master, I came to notice that my suffering is different from that of minorities born in North America.
Jamaican people did not have to experience segregation, so our colonial wounds have healed differently from the wounds of those in this geographic location. In Jamaican culture, regardless of social standing or economic class, education is an important mandate.
My parents’ initiatives have solidly helped form my ethics and morals, as education and proper etiquette has always been a priority in my household. I related most to the idea of privilege when reading the article “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack,” by Peggy McIntosh.
Although the article refers more specifically to white privilege, the author explores the conceptual reality of how privilege is an invisible package of unearned assets that white people can use to their advantage.
In my own right, I have gained a package of invisible unearned assets which set me apart from the rest of the individuals who share my demographic.
Throughout my university career, I have been forced to accept my privilege and begin to formulate a way to use it to incite change. I could not imagine where I would be had I not been able to gain insight through my travels and a drive for scholarship through my parents.
Many minorities—especially Black kids—in North America are caught up in the justice system, due to the lack of guidance and care they receive. After realizing this, I now want my career to focus on being an inspiration to Black youth—to show Black youth that there are more ways than drugs or music to become successful, including the path of science; to be an inspiration to Black youth; to be patient with them as I understand now that our stories are completely different.
As a future Black physician, it will be my responsibility to nurture youth who will defy racial barriers and social norms so they can one day serve as inspirations themselves.
—Ti-Amo Richards is a fourth-year neuroscience student at Carleton.
Graphic by Paloma Callo.
