Heart | existabovethenoise

Ana Hudson is a twenty something from East Orange, NJ. Over six months ago, she joined her boyfriend in Montreal and added a new element to their otherwise long-distance relationship. She’s found herself exploring friendships, relationships, the French language, Canadian and Haitian cultures (the beau’s family is from Haiti). What a journey!

It has been a year and a month that I’ve dated my boyfriend. He lives outside of Montreal, Quebec, Canada in a small town named Mascouche. This is a completely French Canadian town. Let me tell you, French Canadians refuse to speak any English if at all possible. It’s mind boggling because I think to myself, ‘how can we communicate properly when you don’t meet me in the middle?’ I always start with ‘bonjour, hi’ to ensure they understand I speak English. But that does not always work well.

I have had a few very short and bland conversations in English. Maybe they’re just as embarrassed in their English as I am with my French? Either way, I wish they would take the same approach as I do when it comes to these awkward moments. “Just Do It!” as Nike would say.

French isn’t the only language I’m learning to navigate. I have also found myself losing my swag in English! French is now my second language. So, I have moments of translation in my head that seem to be simultaneous with my speech. But, it’s not an easy task. Recently, I was explaining what a certain car looks like to my mom. All I kept saying was, “une voiture est…voiture, voiture mommy, oh mon dieu je ne sais pas avec moi!!” My poor mom on the other line took pity on me. “I understand Ana, the voiture.” Voiture just means car.

Beyond the language of speech there is the language of love. Being in a relationship outside of the US of A is difficult. The cost of traveling back and forth gets expensive. The time spent apart is daunting, not to mention trying to incorporate socializing with family so that time together is substantive. It feels like everyone needs to meet your partner to confirm that you’re not dating a ghost! What about when it’s time for the relationship to grow beyond the two of you? What about the pitter patter of little feet? Oh my lawd!! A relationship of only one year can shift gears as if it’s been 5. The strain of traveling and considering the absence makes the relationship move even faster. But, if it’s definitely something worth it, you have to believe that it will work out for the best. C’est la vie!

And what happens to life back home? All the faces and places that you left behind? I always feel tense once I’m back in the tri-state. I miss the conveniences of downtown Newark, route 280, family, friends and the Parkway. Did I mention how much I miss the English language?

Long distance, transnational relationships are all about balancing love and loneliness. There is part of you that feels free – on your own, taking a leap of faith. Doing what some others from home wouldn’t attempt to do. There is the other part that is learning a new language and culture all at the same time. In the midst of it all there’s a frustrating acceptance to achieve, to feel you belong not just in your relationship, but also within the larger culture that is most familiar to your partner.

Relationships are a balancing act and I have no magic formula. Between English, French, love and pommes frites, I am enjoying the journey. But, there are moments when I look around and realize that I am far away from where I’m started. Most of the time, I think that’s not such a bad thing.

I am not the anti-activist. I understand the hoods. I understand the occupation. I get the gesture, the action, the symbolism and the solidarity. It serves a purpose in our society – to comfort survivors, to empower ourselves. To feel in cahoots, to be on the right side of justice. I struggle to participate the way I struggle to vote. Believing that you all will do my bidding with your overwhelming majority. You all, who stand there and speak as if you know the pulse of conviction, have a better understanding than I. You scream louder, you buy king sized skittles. Your signs are higher hoisted and more colorful. You all look good out there, together.

And I see you from here and I’m not sure I have a role to play. Other than to see to it that I know where my children are, so that they won’t harm yours. Other than to remind my boys that they are loved and thus hunted; not because they are harmful, but because the act of emasculation is a pendulum – often boosting the self worth of the worthless. Other than to tell her that she is the most beautifulest thing in this world. And perhaps to remind you all of the possibilities beyond what you can see with your own eyes.

My brother got older, a mentor left this earth, Trayvon was shot and bled out. And I… dear hearts… was there for none of it. Your presence is a present. What you choose to do with it is your business, literally none of my concern. But, I don’t wear a hood today for a rally I can’t see, the same way I wouldn’t wear a gown on the date of a wedding I can’t attend.

We must be powerful – wherever our environment. We must be fully present, wherever we are. I urge you to do whatever you feel best, I trust your judgment. And likewise, trust that you will understand my absence. But I hear you, even from here. I will convey your message, honestly, when people ask, “Have things changed?”

Before I go out there and give our response, I just want to clarify with you. I believe I can relay that our President is a man and not a superhero. If I hear you correctly, you are ok with my saying that in order to understand the progress of change, one must punctuate the historical timeline correctly. I understand from your message that the civil rights movement was, perhaps, a start. What I believe you want me to say is that what you are looking for is an end.

Correct me, if I’m wrong…