Practice-based research .4
Goodness follows me wherever I go: updates on PhD things and my short visit to Jamaica
When I received the email that I would be receiving funding and support to pursue my practice based research institutionally, I was in St James, Jamaica. A parish on the north-west coast of Jamaica, where my maternal lineage, didn’t quite begin but certainly, laboured and flourished.
Speaking of beginnings, in the green and rainy parish of Portland, I began reading Dionne Brand’s A map to the door of no return; a critically acclaimed unique assessment and seductive document of the issues with tracing your way ‘back home’.
When I speak of the term ‘back home’, I have feelings of anger, upset, vindication, empowerment, nostalgia and memory, all simultaneously. But more on this next time.
I met with my uncle again during this visit; he is the tether to worlds kept/torn from me, my guide to this current ancestral land. I spent some time with him on his 2 acres of land and, as always, learned a lot about agriculture, horticulture, love, dedication, science, family and community. I then went on to Portland where I thought about materials and food and jerk (or rather the act and history of jerking). Once I arrived in Kingston, mama Gordon told me of a thing her mother used to tell her. She said that “First water you get, you wash”. Mama Gordon explained that this saying speaks to opportunity and taking that first chance you get to take care of yourself. (The first bit of water you can access at the river, use it to bathe since you may not get another opportunity to later, as water, as well as other resources can be scarce). My grandmother had this resourceful, ambitious, survivalist mindset in the 1950’s when she came to the UK with the intention of grabbing the first bit of ‘water’ so she was able to nurture herself and her family.
So as I think about ideas of home from this Jamaican land and this trans body, I cannot help but comment on the physical landscapes of my research. I am talking about the places I visit, the memories, the roads, the properties, the stories of certain geographical parts of the island but also my anatomy as it evolves; tracing my body for changes and memories as it transforms right before my eyes.
[Image taken during my visit to Transcestry: 10 years of the Museum of Transology exhibition. The image is of 2 bottles of Testogel positioned next to each other with a brown paper label in front of it]
I began testosterone on the 28th April 2025. I had the opportunity to pursue private gender affirming care and hope to be able to continue to afford this as I continue on my journey. So I began taking T on the last Monday of April and flew to Jamaica the following day. For me there is something so incredibly complex, uncomfortable and daring about taking T whilst in Jamaica. It pushes back against thousands of rules and ways of living that the colonisers left behind here.
My writing will always refer to the complexities of Jamaica but this short text is more about ideas of home, as always, and how my medical gender transition coincided with my yearly visit. How, applying T in the heat is sticky and messy and not what I ever imagined and yet somehow better than I had ever imagined. How keeping my Testogel in the fridge (not advised generally) next to the eggs, pot of Sunday-Monday and processed cheese is risky, rebellious and revolutionary business.
During my post graduate studies I will be connecting with the Cari-trans organisation which is a network of trans folk across the English speaking caribbean. I have a few trans brothers in Jamaica that I have already made contact with but will be interacting with more intentionally as I try to understand how they make new versions of homes for themselves within themselves and on an island that is constantly at war with the abuses of the West.
As you’d expect me to, I will refer to the writings of the formidable Stuart Hall often throughout this PhD. I may quote his exact words and in some other cases, I might respond visually and creatively to some of this thoughts. I might even challenge some of this research with my own findings and present them in a critically explorative way in the form of making, changing, writing and exhibiting.
For now, here, in this space though, I want to make reference to one of his many comments on culture and identity as, discussed in an article written by Christopher Hutchinson, Hall refers to this ‘oneness’ that is the brand of Jamaica as seen in their island motto: “Out of Many, One People”. A motto that whilst on the surface seems wonderful, admirable and community centered, I take problem with.
Hall takes issue with oneness from the stand point that we as Black people, and more specifically as Black Caribbeans, are not a monolith. Yes, whilst there may be many things that we have in common, there are great disparities within an island that is, as Hall says, is the first and purest diaspora. And so as I continue with my practice based research, I ask the following questions:
How can an island that has only ever been a diaspora (disconnected from its roots and is a hub for nomads, migrants and slaves), embody oneness?
When its people are the most dispersed across the West, particularly in the UK and North America, how can Jamaicans explore oneness, a monolithic cultural identity when the experiences differ and clash so significantly?
How can a descendant of Jamaican parents or grandparents deal with the complexities of speaking to the colonised in the coloniser’s language?
How do they sit with their Britishness in Jamaica if they return at all?
As I finish this entry, I realise just how exposed I feel. Writing so personally about the place I am in love with and my journey with gender affirming care and remembering that it is available for all to read, whenever they want to as many times as they want to is gives me such a strange feeling. It is a powerful tool to be able to reach people in this way and I am grateful for it but I also ask that you hold my story and my words gently in your hands, if you ever dissect it, or reference it, do so in collaboration with me please since I placed these rocks here so I can tell you what is underneath them.
My name is Exodus, many of my loved ones call me Exo for short. Exo has become a personal vow to love and hold myself and others, so with hugs and kisses, I thank you for reading. xoxoxo
U GOT FUNDING!!! So happy for you - especially as it seems like this is research that will fuel you. I hope finding this out was a weight off.
Also this is such beautiful writing, which I will be careful with - I loved this prompt at the end. Being generous with our thoughts can be nerve-wracking (Ha I just googled wracking, and it’s like torture, wow nerve torture). It can feel good, but also the reader has a special responsibility. I feel it! It’s a good responsibility! A privilege to be let in to these experiences. And I’m so excited for you.