Are we a product of our raising? An American Reporter with Guyanese Blood--

Here's the thing... I'm American. A proud one. I'm probably more proud of an American than most Americans I come across. Know why? I'm grateful. I grateful for every single opportunity this country throws my way -- freedom, education, the ability to meet amazing people who have changed my life and continue to do so.

I cannot say I'd have these opportunities if I were back in Guyana. I know I wouldn't. Thank you, 'Merica.

So not only am I grateful for the opportunities I get every day I live in this amazing country - I'm grateful for the people who brought me here - my parents. The people who sacrificed their livelihoods, left their homeland, everything they knew, to bring their children to America - for one thing. Opportunity. One word has never meant so much to me and my family.

Now, growing up with Guyanese parents in America... that's a different story. I'm sure neither of them would have imagined I'd turn out to be a reporter. A doctor, an entrepreneur, a housewife even. If they knew their daughter would grow up to make standing in front of a camera and holding a microphone talking about shootings and drug busts her passion, I'm sure they would have raised me differently.

But I wasn't raised to be a reporter. I was raised in the most Guyanese fashion one can find outside of Guyana.

I'll explain what that means...

The values, the standards, the rules.

For instance...

One of the most common questions I get from my American friends is, "why don't you watch movies?" Yea, it's weird. If someone asked me to make a list of all the movies I've watched in my life, I could probably write them all down on an index card. I don't watch movies.

Why? Well, when I was growing up, my parents didn't make that a thing. They didn't set us down in front of a television and have the TV be the babysitter. They made us do our homework. They made us do chores. They made us read books. They made us go outside and ride our bikes. Movies? TV? Video Games? Yea, okay.

I remember having many conversations with my parents where my brother and I sitting in our rooms slacking off and doing nothing productive was just not an option. It was not. And I love my parents for that. I know the meaning of hard work because of that. Today, I always feel bad when I'm not doing something productive. I even feel sort of bad whenever I watch movies or play games.

Well, Americans watch movies. Now... I know it's not a big deal. But I've grown to notice that this has taken away from my ability to small talk, to understand references. Every time someone brings up a classic movie I didn't see growing up, it reminds me my childhood wasn't normal.

How about my life plan?

I'm not completely sure what my parents had planned for me, but I can tell you that one scenario from my childhood has always stuck with me --

When I was younger, I remember my parents would have us do chores, constantly. It taught us the meaning of hard work, and let us get just a glimpse of what their lives were like living in Guyana - working from sun up to sun down.

So, we would wash and clean the car every two weeks or so, clean the house from top to bottom every Saturday, pull the weeds from the garden in our front yard every Sunday. We would always be outside doing something, and I remember our neighbors would constantly comment on how hard working we were, how our house was the nicest on the block. You're welcome, mom and dad!

I'm not sure why this particular scenario has always stuck with me - but one day I was pulling weeds. My mom called me inside to help cook roti. I didn't want to. For some odd reason, I wanted to stay outside and pull weeds. Well, it turns out, according to my dad, at that time, "girls do work inside, boys do the work outside". Meaning, I would have to go inside and cook because that's what girls do.

Looking back on it now, I laugh. I laugh because if I told my dad about that now, he would think he was absurd for saying that. He's changed so much since then - I don't even know how to cook roti and he's fine with that.

But those are the little things that have always stuck with me - things I know are not how "normal Americans" were raised. But that's what my parents instilled in us, the thought process I've had to escape from throughout the years - the boy does one thing, the girl does another. Well, I don't need no man. And when I have a man, we'll share the duties. And my parents know that.

Okay, one last thing, probably one of the most important things that have affected my career...

I wasn't raised to talk - I was raised to speak when I'm spoken to.

That sounds a lot harsher than it is - but it's true. Now, this hasn't stunted my ability to talk - obviously my profession is based around talking. But it has made me hesitate as to when the right times to speak are - and those times don't always match up with the times that are actually right to speak, as a journalist whose constantly trying to get information out of people.

Don't get me wrong - it's not a matter of whenever I would speak, I was told I was wrong for speaking. That's not it at all. Simply put, I was raised to believe that I should always be careful what I say and how it comes out. The teeniest, tiniest hint of rudeness or know-it-all tone would result in obvious disapproval - there's a time and place for everything you say. Careful.

My point is - I wasn't raised like other reporters. I wasn't raised to run my mouth. I wasn't raised to be outgoing to live a life full of fun. I was raised to work hard, make a decent living, get married, have children and make sure the cycle is continued. I was raised like other Guyanese children were - sternly.

I may not be married and I may not have started a family like a traditional Guyanese girl would at this age, but I'm happy.

At the end of the day, my parents support my choice to be a reporter. This is my passion. The life I live today and the job I love doing every day shows that people are not a product of their childhoods. People can change if we set our minds, our hearts and our souls to it. And I have changed.

I've changed from the shy, uncertain little girl who barely ever spoke to anyone to a confident, beautiful, intelligent and hardworking woman my parents are proud of.

2010 - last day of high school (I always wore my hair like that, btw)

2014 - Three months into TV20

I didn't realize it growing up, but happiness is what my parents wanted for my brother and I. In my adulthood though, they've shown that that's the case. And you know what? That's proof they can change. They changed for their children.

Thanks, mom and dad. I love you.