I am an 18 year old Jamaican-American who grew up in Brooklyn, New York. My Jamaican culture has undoubtably been one of the biggest influences in my life. One of my favorite cultural deserts is Jamaican potato pudding. Its aromatic smell managed to mask the scent of ailments within my family, and its preparation was a filler for open conversations regarding health. 

      The kitchen was always a place where I could expect to see rough potato skins transform into delicate shreds through repetitive grating motions. When you grow older, and revisit childhood memories, you begin to see just how many things you were oblivious to. 

     A simple potato pudding slice was enough to thin the air and avert my attention from the larger issues at hand. I was so focused on potato skins, that I never noticed the cerasee and dandelion leaves that would lurk in the corner. When I was able to identify these leaves as a currency whose value reflects a history of medical injustice, my view on the world changed forever. 

      I noticed that my family members often forged their strength from necessity rather than being nurtured through care. This is crusted at the top and bottom of their stories. This is why I always strive to place myself between them —in the moist middle. 

     In my family, self-advocacy has been mistaken for self-management. I do not simply take matters into my own hands. I stay in tune with my body and address issues as they arise. I use my voice as a tool to challenge ideas about black women needing to be strong all the time. I am vulnerable, and I don’t want to toughen up. I want the things around me to soften. 

     My vulnerability and moments of doubt allow me to feel strong because I am feeling things my family members may have never allowed themselves to feel. My strength comes from choosing to find beauty and purpose in every situation, not from pretending to be joyous. Having a tough outward appearance is overrated since we are never alone. 

     This blog grows from that same place of being shaped by biology history and culture. Where inherited resilience intersects with inherited inequalities. In these instances it becomes more clear that the body and society cannot be separated. 

     I want to spend my life unpacking how our histories live in our bodies, how science and society shape each other, and just how important it is to understand both. 

  With much love, 

Ronae ♡♡♡