"There is community [in the U.S.] that will rise up and help you should you need help, but at the same time, there are people who not only couldn't care less about you but rather not have me in their neighborhoods."
Kali Hislop is a Danvers resident and chef from Trinidad.
KALI: My name is Kali Hislop. I've lived in Danvers since 2017. I've been in the States since 1998. Born and raised in Trinidad and Tobago. Spent a year in England and then came to the U.S., to D.C. specifically, for college.
KALI: My wife was born and raised in Stoneham, Massachusetts. We were looking for a house. She had a cousin who lived in Danvers, recommended it, said that the community here was quite good, and the schools were good as well, which we were looking for. And here we are.
KALI: So I played soccer and was recruited to play soccer in college, which is how we wound up in D.C. I came here thinking that I would go to college, play, hopefully earn a degree, and leave and go back to play professionally somewhere. Things changed course and realized that getting into the professional soccer world is not as easy as I expected. I just picked up and went to culinary school, became a chef, and again—those different factors, my wife, who I met in college, Katie, was in Massachusetts. Again, that eventually brought us here.
KALI: So I have two older brothers, who was going to college, 10 and 8 years older than me. They had gone to college in D.C. at Howard University before I did. So when I came here, there was still a large Caribbean community of Howard graduates who were here and took me under their wing, which was really helpful. Because I think one of the surprising things to me was that community here in the States is different from community I experienced growing up. At one point when I was here, I used to say, “There's no community!” but that's not true; but it’s different.
Growing up, everyone knows everyone. Neighbor two blocks away knows me; if I was getting into trouble, would have no problem, giving me a wrap around the ear and sending me back to my mom, who would then do the very same to me. So here I realized that people aren’t as familiar with each other in these settings. Oh, we’re a street apart, you know, you're my neighbor, and we're on a small street here, and we're very close. But in general, I came to realize that not just people looking out for me to discipline me, but knowing that wherever I went, there were people who would welcome me and help me if I needed help. It was different. So I just think that that was, I would say, one of the most surprising things.
KALI: Well, again, tying in with my upbringing. I always laugh; my wife, when we first started dating, would kind of—was taken aback by me saying hello to everyone that I passed on the street. She said, “Oh, we don't really do that.” Again, I first took that to mean that people aren’t personal here. And I've come since to realize that no, there is community that will rise up and help you should you need help, but at the same time, there are people who not only couldn't care less about you but rather not have me in their neighborhoods. So I suppose the way I changed is that I learned to put my guard up a little bit more. I walk into a room, now I always have in the back of my mind, “What are people thinking of me?”—those sorts of things. I'm not as open as I used to be. But again, I wouldn't say I'm jaded at the same time because there have been numerous instances of helpfulness in my community that led me to know that if my kids were to get in trouble, they wouldn't be alone. They need to know who to go to, but they won't be alone.
KALI: As you know, there's some residents who are loud and very opinionated about the change in the community. They want things to remain the way they were when they were growing up. And some of the things that they are holding onto aren’t always the best for an immigrant, like me, someone coming in, young couple—diversity in general. They not only don't want the buildings around them changing, they don't want the people around them changing. As loud as they are and good at garnering attention, I've come to realize for every one of those people, there’s 5 to 10 people in my community who will stand up to them and stand up for those that they are oppressing, for a lack of a better word.
KALI: That's a funny one because in these instances—there's not much I would change. Things haven't gone the way I planned. I never finished my degree; that would probably be the first thing I would say to my younger self is, “Go get your degree. That's what you came here for.” But in terms of—there are people who wish they had a time machine, and they would go back and change this and change that. I don't think that way. Everything I've been through has led me to this point, where I have a great family. I wouldn't give that up for anything. So if I were to have a time machine, would I use it to go back? Probably not because it could change things to the point where I don't have the family I have now. And I suppose the best advice I could give my younger self is, “Enjoy moments that you have here. Nurture my relationships better.” There are people who I’ve met along the way who were great to me, and we've lost touch over the years. These sorts of—that would be probably the best thing I could say to myself. But again, life is a journey, and I just want to continue on.
SHILPA: Is there anything else that you would like to share about your story?
KALI: So, I'm going to regret myself—my dad has passed recently, has a great story himself. He backpacked through Europe in the 50s, which was daunting for a black man, him and his best friend. They were in England for a while, settled. He had been out with his friend one night. The police were looking for some car thieves. It was a cold night, they didn't feel like going far, they stepped out of the police station, saw them, arrested them. And he went to court; he took him to court, sued them, won, which was unprecedented at the time. And he took that money, took himself to law school, and eventually went back to Trinidad, started a family.
And so, I mean—stories of immigration, I feel like it’s part of me. I love having sort of a global perspective. I realized that things have improved since those days, things that my dad went through, but there's still a lot to change. I hope my children venture out into the world themselves and again gain that global perspective. That's it, I hope it continues.