Caribbean Boy from Trinidad: In God’s Hands

By Norris M. Haynes

This volume of “Caribbean Boy From Trinidad: In God’s Hands” is based on a story of love, faith, hope and perseverance. The story’s protagonist, Michael was loved unconditionally and nurtured by significant people in his life. His mother’s and his own faith instilled a sense of hope, that despite challenges and disappointments, good outcomes were possible. This inspired Michael’s diligent and hard work, and his unrelenting perseverance. The events are told, and names are presented, as they are remembered, and may be in some cases not exactly as they occurred or as they were four or more decades ago.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781796085167

Norris M. Haynes

The author, Norris M. Haynes, is a native of Trinidad and Tobago. He holds dual citizenship as a citizen of the United States and his native Trinidad. He is a professor and licensed psychologist. and has written and published widely on topics in education and psychology. As a professor at Howard University, Southern Connecticut State University and Yale University he has taught, and teaches courses in Psychology and Education. He is a Fellow in the American Psychological Association, a member of the founding leadership team of the Collaborative for Academic, Social and Emotional Learning and is founding executive director of Educational and Psychological Solutions, LLC.

Book preview

Copyright © 2020 by Norris M. Haynes.

Library of Congress Control Number:    2020901699

ISBN:                  Hardcover                        978-1-7960-8518-1

                            Softcover                          978-1-7960-8517-4

                            eBook                               978-1-7960-8516-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 01/29/2020

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CONTENTS

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Dedication

Acknowledgements

Preface

Chapter 1     Humble Beginning

Chapter 2     Love and Faith

Chapter 3     The School Assignment

Chapter 4     The Joys and Pleasures of Childhood

Chapter 5     Betrayal and Joys of St Vincent

Chapter 6     Baptism and Independence

Chapter 7     South East Port of Spain Secondary School

Chapter 8     The Prime Minister Visits and Dolores Leaves

for England

Chapter 9     Queen’s Royal College

Chapter 10   New House, Fulbright Scholarship and

Departure for the United States

Postscript

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DEDICATION

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T HIS book is dedicated to the loving memory of Mudsy and Noreen (Dolores). They live warmly and indelibly forever in my heart .

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

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I THANK my immediate family members, Monica, Norrisa, Monique, Nadine, Felixcia, Jacqui, Alex and Jude for their love support and encouragement. I acknowledge the love and support of my loving and departed mother and sister who nurtured and inspired me to be the best that I was made to be. My brother Champ and sister Amy have played significant and important roles in my life and for this I am eternally grateful. I thank my other brothers and sisters, Wayne, Winston, Colleen, Cheryl, Caron, and Shurland with whom I share and have shared a deep and abiding love.

To the Hutchinson family and the Goodridge family and the families and individuals in the St. John Street village and the East dry River communities, past and present, I express my eternal gratitude. I am grateful to Senator Donald Pierre, Dr. Michael Alleyne, Mr. Laltoo and other public and school officials and teachers who shouldered their responsibilities responsibly and encouraged and supported my journey. My friends over the years have been a source of support and encouragement and I thank them all, especially Headley Wilson and Charles Brown. I thank those colleagues who have offered their thoughts and insights and encouragement as I prepared this manuscript including Dr. Camella Rhone, Miriam Jacobs, Dr. Angela Ramsay, Allyson Hamel-Smith and Dr. Eugenia Springer.

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PREFACE

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T HIS volume of Caribbean Boy From Trinidad: In God’s Hands is based on a story of love, faith, hope and perseverance. The story’s protagonist, Michael was loved unconditionally and nurtured by significant people in his life. His mother’s and his own faith instilled a sense of hope, that despite challenges and disappointments, good outcomes were possible. This inspired Michael’s diligent and hard work, and his unrelenting perseverance. The events are told, and names are presented, as they are remembered, and may be in some cases not exactly as they occurred or as they were four or more decades ago.

Trinidad and Tobago is a nation state at the most southerly end of the Caribbean Islands chain that stretches from Cuba in the north to the tip of Venezuela in the south. It is just seven miles off the Venezuelan mainland at the closest point. It is the birthplace of calypso music and steel band music and hosts the second largest and most colorful carnival celebration in the world, second only to Brazil.

Its native population is Amerindian Caribs and Arawaks. During its history, Trinidad has been controlled and/or inhabited by the English, French and Spanish. Many African slaves were brought to the country to work on sugar fields in the 1700s and 1800s. Following the abolition of the slave trade and of slavery in the mid to late 1800s, indentured workers from China and India were brought in to replace and/or augment the labor pool. Many Europeans also came, as did migrants from the middle east later on in the country’s history. As a result, Trinidad and Tobago’s population became one of rich cultural and ethnic diversity.

However, despite its reputation as a well-functioning multi-racial and multi ethnic society, the nation was not immune from prejudice and social stratification based on race, class, geography or zip code and income level. Paradoxically, Michael’s achievements came about despite these social prejudices, in part because of cultural, and institutional forces that opposed these negative human tendencies to prejudge and label and discriminate, based on race and class. The national anthem of Trinidad and Tobago says here every creed and race find an equal place, and may God bless our nation. This was and perhaps still is aspirational; a dream; a goal yet to which the nation still strives, as God continues to bless the nation.

Michael’s identity is that of a Caribbean boy, born in East Dry River Trinidad to a Vincentian mother and a father born in Trinidad with Barbadian roots. Islands of the Caribbean are not a cultural, political or socio-economic monolith by any means, but they have historical, cultural and socio-political nexuses that undergird Michael’s sense of being a son, not just of Trinidad and Tobago specifically but of the Caribbean more generally.

There are multiple diverse audiences for this book. First the book is intended for current students at South East Port of Spain Secondary School (SEPOS) on Nelson Street in Port of Spain Trinidad and for other students in schools throughout Trinidad and Tobago and the Caribbean aswell as schools in countries around the world. They must know that they can write and tell their own stories, defining themselves and determining how their own personal stories unfold. This begins with love and respect of self and acceptance and acknowledgement of the love of others; and respect for others. It takes hopefulness, setting of goals and hard work to achieve those goals. It requires perseverance even when the going is rough and prospects may seem dim. Michael was not deterred by the low expectations that some people may have had of him because of where he lived and his social class. He internalized the belief that practice makes better and that constant and diligent practice makes excellence. This is true, he believed for school work and studying as it is for sports and for other ventures in life.

Caribbean people in the Caribbean Diaspora would enjoy this book This story is as much a Caribbean story as it is a Trinidad story. Mudsy, Michael’s mother, is like most Caribbean mothers. They are loving, dedicated, hard-working mothers of faith who would do whatever it takes to support their children and help them succeed. Michael is like many young men and women in Islands across the Caribbean who, if given the love, support and opportunity, would work hard and persevere until they succeed.

The book is also for audiences in North America and around the world who are mothers and fathers and children and relatives and friends. Educators and community leaders whose love, support and guidance can make a significant difference in the lives of children and youth would also appreciate this book.

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CHAPTER ONE

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Humble Beginning

T HE sun was beginning to peep up from beyond the eastern horizon. It sent a glistening warm, shining light through the mango tree leaves moistened with morning dew. A lizard crawled its way along a Brondelch, lifted its subtriangular head as if to soak in the penetrating warmth of the rising sun. At the foot of the tree, a nest of busy-body ants scurried back and forth carrying small pieces of disintegrating leaves and twisted twigs in business-like fashion. The lizard tuned its pointed head slightly to the left to display a somewhat pronounced sagging neck. It seemed to stare directly at Michael who sat on a sweet drink (soda) box in the yard, silently taking in the morning brew. His dog ’Brownie’ lay next to him. He was thinking of what the day was going to be like. The results of the Common Entrance Exam, that determined which high school he would attend, were going to be released today. He was relaxed and hopeful, decidedly leaving everything in God’s hands as his mother would always say to him:

if you do your best, God will do the rest. Once you have done your part, leave it in God’s hands.

He stared back at the lizard who still seemed to be staring directly at him. He smiled and thought that perhaps the lizard was bringing him a message of encouragement and hope.

His mother was called Mudsy. She was an amazing woman. She was about 5 ft, 4 inches tall, slim to medium built, with full curly, slightly graying hair that she would press with a hot iron comb from time to time, especially on special occasions. No one seemed quite sure why she was called Mudsy, but Dolores, his sister, seemed to be the originator of the name Mudsy. Dolores always, from the time she could talk, called her Mudsy. Michael called her mama. All the adult neighbors and children called her Mudsy. Michael, it seemed, was the only one who called her mama’ and he did not know why. Perhaps he stayed with what might have been a baby’s early and natural babble of a word for the nurturing mother, mama. Babies are also known to babble out the word ‘dada for the nurturing father figure that seems to evolve somehow to daddy.

They lived in a two- room wooden house. One room was a large area with a screen/blind divider that separated the area where the queen bed stood from the living room area. The second room was a kitchen that was attached. The roof leaked and during heavy rain down pours, Mudsy would place pots and pans on the bed to catch the cascading spouts of water that seemed to pour from multiple fissures in the ceiling. On stormy nights sleeping on the bed was challenging to say the least and Mudsy and her two youngest children, Michael and Dolores would cuddle very close together to avoid getting wet or would sleep on the floor on the living room side of the room divider. Michael often wondered how the house withstood the strong forceful winds that battered the aging boards, ripped apart the galvanize and shook the very foundation. He recalled the devastating impact of a powerful hurricane called Janet that had swept through the region, almost destroyed the sister island of Tobago and wrecked large sections of Trinidad. Yet, the house stood its ground.

To be sure, the house in which Michael, Mudsy and Dolores lived was perhaps the exception rather than the rule on St. John Street. Most of the homes were larger, with separate and well-furnished living rooms, bedrooms and kitchens. Many of the houses were built of brick plastered with concrete. Some had designer bricks and stones. Michael, however, never felt less than any of his friends whose homes were much more spacious and well-furnished than his. The St. John Street community was like a family; like a village of elders protecting and supporting all the children in it. Michael, like most of the children, felt loved by the adults in the community and flourished in a culture that was one of unconditional acceptance and encouragement. No one felt poor. Poverty was in the eyes of the beholder and not in the daily lived lives and interactions among members of the St. John Street community.

Many people who lived outside of St John Street, and the larger Laventille and East Dry River area perceived the folks up there as poor, indigent, incapable people. On the contrary, residents of these marginalized areas were hard working, industrious, aspirational and hopeful people.

This is not to say that St. John Street did not have its share off ‘bacchanal’ (disputes) and ‘commess’ (quarrels). There were occasional disputes and fights, and during that time, at least one murder, committed by the brother of a notorious convict named Mano Benjamin who had cruelly blinded two sisters in the village of Biche, in the South of the Island. Reports had it that the brother lay in wait for a small helpless man as he walked down the St. John Street steps, attacked him, killed him and ate his lunch. But this was an anomaly at that time for St. John Street. The community was basically safe, caring and richly diverse. Residents were of different ethnicities, religions and occupations. There was Mr. Allan, the tinsmith, whose hammering and pounding of tin could be heard throughout the day. There was daddy Goodridge whose hot bread and cakes one could smell from many blocks away. There was Mr. Pilgrim, a customs officer, whose smart khaki uniform with shinning silver buttons caught one’s attention. There was Mr. Lincoln who worked on the wharf. There was Mr. Hutchinson, the tailor. There was Mr. Fitzroy, the spiritual Baptist and shango leader, whose bulging eyes and penetrating stare seemed to render him a little extra human.

Michael could recall going down to Leader Fitzroy’s church with friends, peeping in and seeing people convulsing on the floor, shouting and crying out in strange words. They were apparently ‘possessed with the spirit’. He came to learn that some of them were on what was called the mourning ground that involved a long period of fasting and prayer and self-denial. It was said that during this time their spirits traveled to distant places where they met others including deceased relatives and acquaintances.

There was also Mr. Benjamin, the shopkeeper. There were homemakers, factory workers, nurses, teachers, local politicians and police officers. There were gay and straight people. One gay young man who was widely accepted, respected and loved adopted the sobriquet Sarah Vaughn in honor of the famous American singer. He himself had a beautiful singing voice. He sang in the Trinity church choir and often sang while walking on the street. His younger brother who many years later died of AIDS was also known to be gay. On St. John Street there were even reputed ‘socouyants’ and ‘La Diablesses. A soucouyant was a person who during the day functioned as a normal person but at night turned into a blood-sucking fiend who could enter homes and suck the blood of unsuspecting people. It was thought that sprinkling salt on the doorstep protected people from ‘soucouyants’ because the latter had to stop and count every grain of salt before entering the house. By the time the ‘soucouyant’ was finished counting the grains of salt it would be daylight and the ‘soucouyant’ would have to flee. ‘Soucouyants’ were invariably female. There was one old woman on St. John Street who some children and adults suspected as being a socouyant. A La Diablesse was thought to be a Leprechaun of sorts. The upper part was the upper body of a woman and the lower part was the lower part of a horse. She came out only at night and would trap men. It was sometimes thought that the click clack of her horse feet could be heard at night especially around midnight. These mythlogical characters were feared by members of the community who were either superstitious or believed in them.

Many of the people of St. John Street were industrious and hardworking people. Mudsy represented that work ethic well. Even when intensely strong weather events made for many sleepless nights, Mudsy, as she did every day, awoke early at about 5 AM, to get to work and to get Dolores and Michael ready for school.

She could be heard saying each of them as she woke them up, time to get up now, shake that sloth, she said to each of them as she shook them gently, rousing them from bed to go to the public standpipe to shower before other people came.

The plot of land where they lived at