Through the Rain

Chapter Eleven

It was shortly after I moved to Braeton that the decade of the seventies gave way to the eighties. By this time, there had been a change of government. The Peoples National Party had been soundly whipped by the Seaga-led Jamaica Labour Party in one of the bloodiest elections on record up to that point. Of course, there were a lot of finger pointing as to who was responsible for the wanton loss of lives, but one thing was certain: my family and I were happy we had fled the politically charged Olympic Gardens, since it had its infamous share of politically related murders.

      The eighties was also a time when certain shifts were happening in our culture, and our music became a major vehicle to communicate these. Whereas in the seventies, there was a large focus on originality and being a Jamaican took pride of place epitomised by eminent musicians like Bob Marley, Jimmy Cliff, Jacob Miller and many others, the 1980s brought with it a mixture of artistes who were contented to copy any catchy rhythm that was popular, add any sort of mediocre lyrics to it, and parade it as the culture. This was the period when the cousin of reggae, the dancehall was beginning to take root. For the next several years, the music suffered, descending into debauchery, talk of gun violence, and the degradation of women.

      The eighties was also a time of disco music, when Michael Jackson was king, when John Lennon’s love ballad Woman became the anthem of many young lovers, and when I’ll Put Angels around You by Dr. Hook was making the rounds. It was the decade when we lost Bob Marley, when there was a coup attempt in tiny Grenada, a neighbouring island, and when there were assassination attempts on Ronald Reagan of the United States and Pope John Paul II. It was also the time when the entire communism bloc of Eastern Europe fell, including the infamous Berlin Wall that separated East Germany from West Germany.

      It was also the decade when I struggled most to find myself.

      The teenage years can be one of the more cruel times of one’s life, and mine was not without its own challenges. To begin with, it was the time I was beginning to be more aware of my body and its conceived deficiencies. For example, I had by that time outgrown the deep bow legs I had been born with, but that made me walk with my feet turned slightly in, rather than straight out like most other persons. People snickered about this, even going as far as saying that I walked like a female, a connotation that had deep implications in a society like mine that was highly homophobic. In addition to this, I became very sensitive to many other apparent shortcomings I had.

      This experience, of passing from childhood to manhood, of learning to accept you for who you are in spite of what others think, is perhaps in my humble opinion, the most painful phase a human being can pass through. For a time I struggled with it, trying to find my own voice, my own interpretation of what life was all about, and my own sense of purpose in a seemingly vast and cruel world.

      I had the misfortune many times of not being alone, yet being very lonely. My church, for example, had a lot of young people my age. However, since I chose not to engage in some of the risky activities they took part in, I was seen most of the time as a “spoiler”, someone who was not welcome to be a part of the “in-crowd”, simply because I was too “strict”. As a teen, it was a very uncomfortable spot to find oneself in. You knew you were living up to the dictates of your conscience, but the very people who should bolster your courage precisely because you were trying to do right, were the ones who made you feel otherwise.

      This was not to say that I was perfect – far from it. I had my own struggles with issues of morality and whether I should follow the path of integrity, and had failed miserably so many times. However, I had always tried not to be presumptuous about it.

      Thankfully, there were a number of things that stood me in good stead during those difficult times.

      Apart from having a stable family, I was able to turn to two other areas that served me well, resulting in me not only surviving the turbulent teenage years, but thriving in spite of them. These activities were writing and church work.