Richie Ramrati

Born in Guyana, March 20, 1996.

Richie's interview was my third and final, and so much different from the other two. He went into it the most excited, telling me that he loves talking about this kind of stuff. Unfortunately, I couldn't speak to him in person and only via video call, but the conversation was just as lively as if it were face-to-face.

Our interview felt very conversational, more dynamic than the other two. And I think that's reflected in the living and changing identity that Richie expressed. What became clear as I listened to him is how much he has to confront this longing to figure out his identity, yet pride for what it is. Others are continuously trying to define that for him based on what he looks like or where his family is from, instead of him feeling like he has total ownership over what parts of his culture shine and which ones he leaves behind.

Richie's original Green Card.

As I stared at him on a blurry video call, I could see his thoughts pouring out freely such that I could tell how much he had contemplated his connections to Guyana (or lack thereof). He emoted this continual desire to build his own identity through a community he can build, "stealing" cultures (as he put it) that he wants to fit within that construction. But I could also sense him searching for the right words to show how he felt and to give me what he thought I was after. He would periodically stare off, as though he was looking in the air for the memories that provoked all of the different emotions he associated with each aspect of his identity And that's what I was after, to see and feel those scattered and genuine contemplations.

Family portrait of Richie's relatives in Guyana.

Richie's identity reflects an abstract perspective about being absorbed into an American culture that rejects so many aspects of what it is to live in Guyana and be South American and Hindu and everything in between. Caught in the limbo of wanting to belong, but not knowing where to belong exactly.

He seemed adamant to forge those connections to his culture on his own grounds. Family is usually such a huge part of that process, but that's what makes Richie's identity so uniquely his, that rejection of expectation in favor of his own construction.

I could just picture his limbs being pulled to so many different corners as his words were paving a rocky way to defining his identity. Each limb grabbing at one characteristic or tradition while ripping another from the ones he wishes to reject.

"A lot of immigrants they come to America and they look for immigrants that are just like them. And I did not do that at all."

Something else that came through in Richie's words was this immense sense of pressure that he has placed upon himself, to go beyond any prejudices or preconceived notions of what it means to be an immigrant or Guyanese.

Rather than trying to hold onto the cultural connections from familial ties or what his mother brought from Guyana, Richie seems to choose to build that cultural identity around what he wants to connect to. He finds pride in his own choices instead of any impositions upon him. That sense of free will can also lead to self-imposed expectations and high standards. If he doesn't live up to those, will he be let down, subject to a disappointment manifested by this intense self-construction? I don't know the answer, but I do know that there's hope behind all of the passion he conveyed to me.

Richie and I spoke for a while on this call. I realized that these thoughts have clearly brewed within him long before we ever met. Each reimplantation of himself in a new location meant a new question posed for his identity and a new challenge to find who he is within each of those communities. Without the familial dependence that some immigrants bring with them, Richie looked for and continues to look for the pieces that feel right in becoming the Guyanese man he wants to be.

When we do get the chance to talk, Richie tells me about the things he likes to cook, his political and religious beliefs, little anecdotes about his mom as we mutually laugh about having such eccentric mothers, and anything else we find ourselves falling into at a given moment. He's one of the most genuine people I've had the pleasure to meet, unafraid to hide all of those internal and external conflicts he's forced to encounter on a day-to-day basis. Things that transform into prickers that latch themselves onto his identity as he walks past the bushes they're pulled off of, sticking to him whether he wants them to or not.