Salutations Everyone!
I hope you all are excited, because we can see evidence that spring is coming! If you did not read my last article, the long and the short is that I had a life-threatening blood clot in one of my veins, and now I am on anticoagulants. But I have some great news! One day, I was leaving the hospital after one of my follow-ups and received an email stating that I had been awarded funding to travel to Trinidad for a research symposium at the University of the West Indies to present my PhD research. The topic of the symposium was “Securing Canada-Caribbean Futures: Repositioning Traditional and Emerging Challenges.” Talk about divine timing! I bawled my eyes out because, after being told that if I had not gone to the hospital, the clot could have travelled up to my lungs and killed me, I was grateful, but I was also in a sort of daze, and I was sad. My abstract for this conference had been accepted a while back, but I declined because it had become too expensive to travel. Now that the Caribbean-Canadian Institute was funding my trip, I decided to accept the offer. I literally told myself, “YOLO!” and looked for flights.
After packing and preparing for my substitute teacher, I was on my way to Sweet T&T. Tears were building up in my eyes every step of the way because I had not been back home in 13 years, since my cousin’s wedding. Despite trying to hold them back, they flowed every now and then during my travels. Once the plane began to descend, and the cabin air began to smell like Trinidad, I bawled my eyes out. I thought to myself, “I’m home. I’m really home.” Those words rolled off my tongue like butter, even though I was born and raised in Montreal.
I landed in Trinidad on Ash Wednesday, yes, I missed Carnival. I attended the conference on Thursday and Friday. The experience was truly life-changing. Engaging with scholars from both Trinidad and Canada created a powerful intellectual and cultural exchange that embodied the very spirit of the Canada-Caribbean Institute. Being in dialogue with researchers across our shared geographies strengthened my pride in being both Canadian and Caribbean, and affirmed my commitment to work that bridges our communities. Standing at UWI and contributing to conversations about Canada-Caribbean futures did not just feel like an academic milestone: it felt like a spiritual return, deepening my sense of purpose, belonging, and responsibility to the generations coming after us. I had the biggest smile on my face the entire time.
After the conference, I visited family members, went to the beach, limed, and ate good food and snacks. I had a Carib Sorrel Shandy every day! I was only there for seven days. While travelling back to Montreal, I was so sad. During our layover in Toronto, we were in the Air Canada lounge. I looked around and saw only White people, not one Black person. I began to cry and quietly said, “I want to go back home.”
I have been back in Montreal for about two weeks now, and the tabanca is still hitting me hard. That trip back home was so therapeutic; while I was in Trinidad, I felt strong, relaxed, peaceful and joyful, but all of that escaped me when I returned to Montreal. It made me think about what home really is. Why is it my initial instinct to say that Trinidad is home, even though I was born and raised in Montreal and have never lived in Trinidad? So, what is home? The Cambridge Dictionary’s first definition of home is “the house, apartment, etc. where you live, especially with your family.” But another definition resonates more deeply with what I am trying to articulate: “someone’s or something’s place of origin, or the place where a person feels they belong.” That is just it: no matter how long I have lived in Montreal, I do not feel like I belong. Life feels different when you occupy spaces where you truly belong.
Psychologically, occupying spaces where we belong regulates the nervous system. The body shifts out of vigilance and into safety. Breathing deepens, shoulders soften, and the mind is no longer preoccupied with how it is being perceived. When we feel culturally seen and understood, stress decreases, and the brain has more room for creativity, clarity, and authentic expression. Belonging allows us to move from survival mode into alignment, where productivity flows from purpose rather than proof. This may explain why some people found themselves more productive working from home during the pandemic. Life has also taught me that home is not always a physical space: sometimes, home is a person. Sometimes we occupy harmful spaces, but there is someone whose presence regulates our nervous system. Where or who is your home?
Now, here is your homework. Identify one space in your life where you feel regulated and one where you feel vigilant. Reflect on what makes the difference. Are there spaces you frequent that do not feel like home and consistently activate your nervous system? If so, ask yourself whether they are necessary, and if not, consider how you might reduce your exposure. What would it take to intentionally cultivate more spaces of belonging in your life, or to become that space of regulation for someone else?
Yours Homesick,
Sabi Kamilah Strong-Hinkson
