Going to Jamaica for the first time, I felt like I belonged. I had never felt so relaxed in my entire life. Even just getting off the plane. My aunt, Iris McKenzie, was still living there at the time. Going outside and breathing the air, I felt like I actually belonged there. I was able to relate to people’s mannerisms and how they do things. People would tell me I was weird, or quiet. I’m just easygoing. And that’s how it felt in Jamaica. I was able to relate. People were just outside making jerk chicken. My grandmother moved to San Francisco in 1986 . . . she has been like a third parent. We would have porridge (what she’s eating now) for breakfast. We weren’t allowed to eat dessert cereals. Rice porridge, cornmeal porridge; sometimes she would make hominy corn. We’d also have salt fish and johnnycakes for breakfast, steamed green banana. I feel like, even though I was raised in San Francisco, we had more of a Caribbean upbringing, from my mom and my grandmother.