Shades of a Colonial Coloured: An Autobiography

By Sislyn Peters

Shades of a Colonial Coloured An Autobiography chronicles the young Antiguan author’s memory milestones, such as asking her mother to pick her up, at age one-and-a-half; Queen Elizabeth’s Coronation celebration, at three years old; and the Colony’s conversion from British pounds, shillings and pence to the new Eastern Caribbean Currency of dollars and cents, at age ten, among others.
The author documents taboo subject questions such as “Where do babies come from?” She touches on the very subtle racism that lurks amongst a few people; the days of migration to England; her first encounter with Rock & Roll and the juke box; and her first peek into American racism.
The book gives insight into the author’s makeup and foundation, literally. It shows her enthusiasm for learning, and her curiosity about humanity. It also reveals how much corporal punishment was used in home and school. This autobiography is testament to a determination to persevere and rise above all odds, in spite of obstacles. Youth’s honest naïveté, innocence, and beauty shine through this thoughtfully written, informative, and valuable work.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 9, 2009
• ISBN: 9781438992723

Sislyn Peters

Sislyn Peters was born in St. John’s, Antigua, then British West Indies, and attended the Ebenezer Methodist Church, and Sunday school.  She is a graduate of Princess Margaret High School.  As a child, she wrote verses, and short stories.  As a teenager, she sang with local bands, including Pat Edwards’ Playboys, and Vere Anthony’s Teen Stars, and is also a playwright.  One of her plays, Trust, was adapted by the City College of New York’s English Department, Division of Humanities & Arts, and performed at the Aaron Davis Hall, in 2001.  Sislyn Peters has been referred to as gifted, and a deep thinker.  Her public literary voice lay dormant for all these years, waiting to burst forth.  It finally has.

Book preview

© 2009 Sislyn Peters. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher

make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book

and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

Published by AuthorHouse 02/16/2022

ISBN: 978-1-4389-9270-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4389-9271-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4389-9272-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2009907158

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.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

For Cherisse, Travis, and Raain

On Becoming Sislyn Peters

One:Remembering

Two:Pictures, Nature, Lisp, and Learning

Three:Coronation and Pre-school

Four:New Feelings, New Home, New Sibling

Five:Colonial Colouring

Six:Discomfort, and Sense

Seven:Blue Eyes, Straight Hair, Big Belly

Eight:English Spelling, Geography, A Foolish Choice, Family Growth, Deception

Nine:Appreciating Mother

Ten:Shillings and Pence to Dollars and Cents

Eleven:High Expectations

Twelve:What’s in a Name?

Thirteen:Of Aunt Mary and John F. Kennedy, and A Peek at Racism

Fourteen:My Reaction to Kissing; A Further Peek at Racism

Fifteen:A Stealing Experience

Sixteen:Role Model, and Bra Model

Seventeen:Hi, Bye, and Politics

Eighteen:Reaching

Nineteen:Falling in Love

Twenty:Hello America!

Chapter 1

I HAVE NO MEMORY OF BEING ZED TO ONE YEAR OLD.

But around age one-and-a-half, I remember wanting to be picked up, and saying to my mother, I want ‘lif’-up’.¹

What did I teach you to say? she asked.

Please?

She picked me up and held me high above the ground.

Mother took my older sister, Linda, and me to Parham to see our grandfather, Mother’s father, Clifford Samuel, on Sundays, shortly before he died. Mother called her father, Papa. He had another daughter named Edna. One Sunday, I met Aunt Edna and Pat, her daughter. Pat was a big girl. She picked me up and carried me around, even when we went to the beach that was close to Papa’s house. Then she took me into the sea water where the waves felt like they were pulling at me whenever she let my feet touch the water. I was afraid I’d fall. As Pat held me, I didn’t talk to her because I didn’t know her well.

Chapter 2

AT AGE TWO, I REMEMBER SITTING ON A CHAIR WITH LINDA STANDING NEXT TO ME. I knew I was a little girl, and my sister was a little girl and my first friend. We were about to have our picture taken. Mother said she’d send one to Father’s friend, Mr. & Mrs. Floyd Cole. Mr. Cole worked at the Fall River Canning Company, in Fall River, Wisconsin. Picture-taking was new to me, but I felt happy because we were all dressed up in nice clothes, and Linda and I had ribbons in our hair. Father and Mother took us to Town at the side of a building Father said was Barclay’s Bank.

There, a stranger man had a big box on top of three long sticks, over which hung a black cloth. He asked Linda and me to look straight at the box, and keep still. Then he went behind the box, and asked us to smile. It seemed to me the man hid behind the black cloth. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I wished Father would pick me up and let me see what was inside the box. All of a sudden, I blinked. The man told Mother she could take me down from the chair because he had finished taking our picture. I didn’t understand why I got dressed up to sit on a chair and blink. Linda and I didn’t even get one bludder² to make a cherry!

When I saw the pictures, I was happy. My cheeks looked fat. Linda was happy to see the pictures, too.

My family lived around the corner from Father’s aunt, Helinda Nicholas Williams. Everyone called her Mrs. Williams, but we called her Aunt Maizie. She was one of five sisters, and was pretty, sweet, kind, and sanctified. She lived with Uncle John, her husband, and my eight cousins—seven brothers and one sister. We were like one big happy family, in the backyard we shared, in Kentish Village. The yard had all kinds of fruit and vegetable trees, like spinach, custard apple, papaw³, banana, and even cotton. But what I liked most was watching a fast little bird named Dr. Brushie⁴ go from one flower to the next, in Aunt Maizie’s front garden; hearing blackbirds sing; and seeing plenty of other pretty little birds fly from tree to tree. Sometimes they flew inside our house, and I wished they would stay with me and be my friends.

The first time I had a really bad feeling in my stomach was when Linda fell and cut her chin. She had tripped on one of her shoe laces. Oh, how she cried! Her chin was bleeding, and her frock was bloody. Before I knew it, Father had taken her to the doctor. When they returned, Linda’s chin was no longer bleeding, but it was sewn up. "Who tho⁵ up you’ chin?" I asked.

A man named ‘Doctor’ tho up me chin, she replied, looking sad. But she was no longer crying.

Soon after, Mother took Linda across the street to Teacher Myrtle Peters’ pre-school. I missed not having my sister to play with. But she came home for lunch; played with me, after school; and taught me what she learned.

Every day, I followed Mother around in the yard. As she hung out clothes to dry, I handed her clothes pins while she sang songs, and I repeated after her. Sometimes she sang A-B-C-D-E-F-G, and I joined in with: H-I-J-K-L-M-N-O-P. Then she told me it was time for her to iron, and for me to take a nap. I listened to her putting around, and smelled the hot iron that sat on coals on the coal pot. I kept my eyes closed, and pretended to sleep until I heard her say it was time for me to wake up.

One of Aunt Maizie’s sons, Lurvey, who was bigger than me, asked me what was my name. I replied, Thith-tha. He told me I had a lisp, I was lisp-tongued, and he tried to teach me how to pronounce the S sound. But I couldn’t make it. He told Linda she had a lisp, too; but it didn’t matter to me. I understood anything my sister said to me, and she understood whatever I said to her. When I asked Mother why my name was Sister, she told me that was my nickname, and when she brought me home from hospital, she told Linda she had a little sister. So Linda stuck me with the name.

Around that time, I became aware of who the closest people to me were; my extended family; and who made me feel safe. I recognised my parents as the two people who cared for me. They taught me my Christian name, Christelyn, and my surname, Peters.

I realised we had a baby in our house some time after my second birthday. I heard Mother tell Father the baby bit her on her tittie,⁶ and she couldn’t wait to win him. Even though they said the baby was a boy, it looked to me like they took him to church in a long white nylon dress. Father said the baby’s name was Skefington.

Days when Skef and I were at home with Mother, I saw the difference between him and me, whenever Mother changed his diaper. When I pointed to the difference and asked her what was that, she told me my brother had a little tee lee,⁷ I was inquisitive, and asked too many questions. I didn’t understand why he had a body part I didn’t have.

Mother, what you mean by ‘win’? I asked.

The word is ‘wean.’ It means I’m going to stop breastfeeding your brother. He’s a little man with a big appetite. Come let me teach you ‘Gentle Jesus Meek and Mild.’ Linda knows it, already. That’s what I want you to learn, Mother replied.

I sang the song over and over with Mother correcting me, until I learned it.

Chapter 3

MY THIRD MOST OUTSTANDING MEMORY, AT AGE THREE, IS OF MY PARENTS’ GETTING LINDA AND ME DRESSED UP, AND TAKING US OUT IN THE STREETS. There, I saw people waving red-white-and-blue pieces of cloth, on a stick. Some men wore gauze masks with red cheeks, colourful clothing, and costumes. Many people wore red-white-and-blue striped belts; others wore buttons with the picture of a pretty woman’s face on it. She wore a hat that pointed upwards over her forehead. Father told Linda and me the hat was a crown.

People blew toy horns, and I heard a man talking on a big loud horn, saying: Take notice, ladies and gentlemen: Today is Coronation Day. It was different from any other day I could remember. Linda and I saw a man who had a very big head, and we were frightened. Father picked me up and put me to sit on his shoulders, and I grabbed him, tightly. I doted on Father, and didn’t feel as frightened of anything as long as he held me. I thought Father was big.

We walked a very long way, and saw plenty of people.

"You’re in the capital of Antigua. It’s named ‘St. John’s,’ but everyone calls it, ‘Town,’ Father said to Linda and me.

I saw some women turning ice cream maker handles, and saying "Gate you’ ice cream. Mother said they meant Get your ice cream." Other women sat with trays filled with coconut slice-up, sugarcake, peppermint, and baby ruth, as they fanned themselves from the heat. They were yelling, "Come an’ gate you’ col’ ginger beer; Gate you’ sweetie an’ sugar baby! From time to time, I heard voices shout: Hip hip, hooray!"

Soon, I joined Teacher Myrtle’s pre-school. I liked it because I went to school with Linda and Lurvey, and I met two sisters who were Linda’s and my new friends. Their names were Shelley and Colleen.

Teacher Myrtle had plenty of pretty flowers in her garden. She also had plenty of yellow butterflies, and pretty-pretty ones we called ten yeye.⁸

I knew I lived in Kentish Village, and my parents were named Mr. Alfred Peters and Mrs. Fernella Peters. I also knew I was three years old.

Mother told Linda and me her mother died before we were born. Father also told us both his parents died before we were born. So I never knew any of my grandmothers, and only saw one of my grandfathers.

Chapter 4

LITTLE CHILDREN, LITTLE CHILDREN / WHO LOVE THEIR REDEEMER / ALL THE JEWELS, PRECIOUS JEWELS / HIS LOVED AND HIS OWN. / Like the stars of the morning / His bright crown adorning / They shall shine in their beauty / Bright gems for His crown. That’s what we sang in Teacher Myrtle’s school, many mornings, and I loved it! Singing it made me feel nice and pretty.

Shortly after I joined, Teacher Myrtle moved her school about three roads away, and I was too vexed. I didn’t want to go to school any more. Lurvey held my hand and took Linda and me to the new address. I cried a lot, and was afraid to go far from our house. When we got to school, Lurvey said, See, Sister, there’s nothing for you to be afraid of. It’s still Teacher Myrtle’s school. And when I saw my friends, I liked going to school, again.

Father bought a piece of land in Ottos, and moved our little house and family from Kentish Village, onto his own plot, on a little alley. I wasn’t ready for the move after dealing with the school change. Things were happening too fast. I missed Aunt Maizie and my cousins. I didn’t know anyone in Ottos, but Father had a friend named Mr. Victor, who lived on our alley. He had two daughters named Irma and Alberta, and five sons. Mr. Victor was a big strong man who Father said was a shipwright.

Each time Mr. Victor finished building a boat, he gave it a girl’s name, and I always learned how to spell it. I wondered why he named his boats girls’ names, but I didn’t ask Father why that was. Mr. Victor chipped away at huge tree trunks, carving, caulking, gluing and painting. I could see why he and Father were friends because Father was always building something, too. Father built several houses in the neighbourhood.

Mrs. Victor was also big and strong. She went to work every day riding a bicycle, like some other women who went to work.

One day, Mother pulled out a little valise⁹ from underneath her bed. She packed two housecoats, underwear, pretty nightgowns, and plenty of big white square cloths. They looked like what Skef used to wear when he was a baby, but they were bigger and brighter.

Mother, what are those? I asked.

They’re called ‘Birdseye diapers’, she replied.

Oh, I said.

She also packed some tiny under shirts; long pieces of white cloth she called belly bands; chemises, the hems of which she’d embroidered on her hoop; a pair of tiny yellow booties she’d knitted; and a matching bonnet. When I asked her where she was going, she rubbed her stomach, hugged me, and said she didn’t want to leave us but she had to go to Hospital for a few days. She sounded sad, and I felt sad because she was sad.

With Mother’s being away, the house seemed empty, especially evenings. During the day, Linda and I played stones, and dug the ground with sticks, searching for little insects that lived in the dirt. We called them "john pee pee."

A long time afterwards, Mother had a cute little baby. She said it was a girl, and her name was Jewel. The baby lay in the middle of my parents’ bed, and the room smelled of baby powder.

Mother, where did the baby come from? I asked.

An angel brought her. Right, Mother? Linda said.

Yes. An angel brought her in a basket, and I went to Hospital to get her and bring her home, Mother said.

I thought the angel must have looked like Queen Elizabeth, with wings, because the ones I saw in picture books looked like Queen Elizabeth. I asked Mother if the angel could bring me a baby, too, but she said I’d have to be a grownup, first. I could tell she was trying to make me hush, so I decided to wait a really long time before asking the angel to bring me a baby for myself.

Mother warned Linda and me to stay away from the baby or else we would get in trouble. We knew she meant what she said; so from far away, we stared at the baby. After a long time when Mother said the baby was sturdier, she allowed Linda and me to take turns at holding Jewel. But first we had to sit right next to Mother, against the bedstead, while she actually half-held Jewel. Mother still didn’t want us to hold our sister, by ourselves. But when Father held Jewel, by himself, Mother didn’t seem to mind at all.

She kept changing Jewel’s diaper, and I stayed far away. I didn’t want to get any of my baby sister’s mess on me. I then realised the Birdseye square cloths Mother had put in her valise before she went away were the same ones she folded and pinned onto the baby’s behind. I also remembered that a long time ago, she washed and bleached white flour bags, cut them into square pieces, sewed them all around the edges, and used two big pins to pin them on Skef when he was a baby. But Jewel’s diapers looked pretty and soft with tiny prints on them.

One Sunday, Mother and Father took Jewel to church to be christened. Mother dressed her up in a nice long white dress. When they returned from church, Mother said Miss Theresa, one of our neighbours whom we called Miss T, was Jewel’s godmother. Miss T lived at the corner of George James Road and our alley.

Chapter 5

OTTOS SCHOOL WAS A LONG WALK AWAY FROM OUR HOUSE. It was a long gray L-shaped wooden building on high cement pillars, on a sloped hill, on Ottos Main Road. The front entrance faced east, and was close to the ground.

On my first day, I carried a slate and slate pencil. I had a hard time being around all those strangers, and wanted to run back home—only I didn’t know the way. What kept me calm was knowing my big sister was in Junior I. She had already warned me that if anyone pinched me, I should let her know. She said she had heard children liked to pinch other children who looked fooly.¹⁰

As far as I could see, there were no partitions in the school. I was put in ABC,¹¹ along with about twenty-five other children who were around my age. ABC was at the beginning of the L-shape, to the west, and closest to where I lived. Our teacher was Miss Meta Hallpike. She greeted us with, Good morning, Children, and we replied, Good morning, Teacher. She told us when she called the register, we should answer, Present, please, and that’s what we did.

Every morning, she had us do exercises by her repeating Hands up, down, in, and out, several times, before she started class. Every day before we went home for lunch, we said, Lord we thank Thee for what we are about to partake of, for Christ’s sake, Amen. And after lunch when we returned to school, we said, Lord we thank Thee for what we have received, for Christ’s sake, Amen.

On our way to school, we walked on George James Road, which was a long narrow dirt road that led to Ottos Main Road, and was muddy when it rained. I liked to look at the pretty flowers in the front gardens of the little colourful wooden and cement houses. The flowers included yellow orchids, red pussy cat tails, zinnias, marigolds, sunflowers, crotons, bougainvilleas, and roses. I always wanted to go in peoples’ gardens, and pick their flowers.

A pale-looking woman whose name was Mrs. De Souza lived at the beginning of the road, across from a gas station. She reminded me of Queen Elizabeth. Below the gas station was another, John