We don’t see people like us falling in love in popular travel movies and shows Paris Or hike through the Italian Alps. It’s hard to imagine traveling somewhere when all you see is a swathe of white faces. These places can seem off the beaten track, especially when black people are sometimes segregated in their own backyards.
Even though I’ve been traveling abroad for the past decade, I’m juggling a bucket list that I hope will inspire other Black people to step out of their comfort zones. Some people travel to escape. Others want to collect bragging rights. I travel for my own sense of adventure — and for the Black people I love.
I make hiking with my family a priority. I put a lot of thought into my keepsakes; I don’t make tchotchkes at all.
I bring back local goodies that will make my family feel like they are there: Swiss chocolate from Geneva, wool gloves from Switzerland Dublin And a black and gold silk kaftan from the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque in Abu Dhabi.
Before I go somewhere new, I send at least five people a text that says “I’m going to — what do you want me to bring you?”
Always on the list: my aunts Kim and Denise, my mom, my godmother Mishia and my 10-year-old cousin Kennedy. I’ll also buy a shirt for my 86-year-old grandmother and a hat for my uncle Gary.
Kennedy was always the most creative. She asked for books from my recent trip to the French Alps. “What kind?” I asked. “Picture? Chapter? Coloring?” Picture, because she can’t read most of the French text, even though she’s been practicing her French since our trip to Quebec City nearly a year ago.
For her 12th birthday, I promised to take her to Paris, but my goal was to take her there sooner. I had kept her passport in a safe for a year, and when I offered to hand it over to her, her parents said “don’t worry”. They wanted me to be moved to take her somewhere new.
When I’m away, I’ll post pictures in the family group chat. When I speak to Kennedy in a scenic location, such as an observation deck in Chamonix in the French Alps, she and her father or grandmother peek back and enjoy the view with me. Since I went to Seoul in 2015, I’ve gotten into the habit of connecting to sketchy WiFi so my mom could see Gyeongbokgung Palace. It was my first time abroad and I made it a family experience.
More of my family members are getting passports. My aunt is in her 60s and has always been afraid to fly, but she went to Florida anyway. She even agreed to go on a boat trip with me one day.
I realize that many black people are unable to travel abroad, let alone Asia and Australia. I’ve only visited these places through discounted fare alerts and hotels. At least in my family, my grandmother recalls visiting Israel with my grandfather in the 80s. I still have the gorgeous dress my Aunt Denise brought me from South Africa in the early 2000s.
As a married person in a dual career household with no kids, I have the freedom to travel as much as I want. But the reality is that foreign travel is the most accessible luxury for the childless, wealthy and retired.
with the pervasive The gap between rich and poor, Black adults will work until they are physically unable to work, and the cost to the children is high. In my experience, many black people can be overly wary of leaving their kids with anyone, even overnight.
My white friends, on the other hand, have taken friends on family trips since elementary school. In the summer, my mom would drop me and my brother off at my grandparents’ house in Camden before work. That, combined with weekend day trips, is what our break looks like.
This show made my grandparents’ tiny one bedroom apartment feel more spacious.
We arrived at the Ferry Station Apartments at 7:30am and I tried to fall asleep again. But instead, I’ll open up the cartoon and watch “The Busy World of Richard Scarry“Before my grandma started telling her stories. The titular animated cat showed me places I’d never heard of, like Austria and Hungary. The show made my grandparents’ tiny one-bedroom apartment It feels more spacious.
As a child I only wanted to do two things: travel the world and be a reporter. Both came late, but both came true. I didn’t realize the impact my experiences had on people until I spoke with a class of high school students at a charter school in Philadelphia earlier this year. I was talking about journalism, but somehow we got to the topic of travel.
“Where were you born?” a girl asked. “Camden,” I replied, watching her frown in confusion.
The news usually shows the worst of Camden, as they did with West Philly, where the students live. I’m sure that girl had a hard time seeing things outside of her environment. Hearing me tell my story helps her understand the possibilities in her life.
When I was born in Camden, all my upbringing and education took place in the nearby suburbs. I live in a single parent family. To my fellow students, privilege meant having a beach house for your family—a true Jersey sign of wealth. Rich kids go back to school in the fall with epic tans and weeks of stories.
Even though they were organized on a payment plan, my family couldn’t afford to go on a trip organized by my aunt and cousins.But at the age of 16, I was invited by a friend’s family to go on a trip, and I had to go las vegasSeeing the Las Vegas Strip’s version of the Eiffel Tower and the Pyramids only confirmed that I still had more to explore.
As I have time, I plan to continue to inspire my loved ones and save money so some of them can see more of the world.
Tonya Russell is a South Jersey-based writer specializing in health, wellness and travel.Follow her on Twitter @thetonyarussell.
