His Parents 

Allison called while I was having lunch at the EduVision conference at the Rose Hall Resort in Montego Bay. I learned that Antonio did not go to court on Monday but went to the Child Development Agency (CDA) instead. His parents were there too. 

Hallelujah!

There are two parents alive and according to what I heard indirectly, ”they look well.” Sources told me that he would be going back to St. Joseph’s after leaving the CDA. I also heard that Antonio and his parents had a meal together.

Hallelujah!  

I thought about all the reasons why he would return to St. Joseph’s after meeting his parents again. I am sure the CDA knows best.

God, be with the mother at this time! Be with father, dear God. I pray for healing dear God and that you will make a way for this family. I pray for healing in the mighty name of Jesus. Hallelujah!      

I received a call from Antonio around 1:48 pm just after I returned to the Hanover Room to charge my cell phone. He verified what I had heard before. He was going back to St. Joseph’s that night. He said that there was a lady from the CDA who was working with them. He did not know her name.     

The Hanover Room at Rose Hall Resort

I sat down in the lonely Hanover room and reflected on my life again. I thought about my children and then I gave thanks to Almighty God. 

As I placed the cell phone away in my purse, I remembered the woman who came over to talk to me after my presentation on “Seeds of Insight.” She said she would never forget me. She smiled with contentment as if she knew what my life was all about. 

“Have you read the ‘Secret?’ “ 

“No…not really…and you know what? I do not need to.”

I noticed that she had a bounded letter size document in her hand. I could tell that it was read many times as the pages and the plastic protector cover seemed worn.   

She smiled again, “You are right. You do not need to read it.”

I later found out that the lady is a nurse at a college in Middlesex County. I gave her my contact information and told her to take good care of my boy who is there as a freshman.  

I asked myself who sent the other woman in brown over to see me. She did not get a chance to hear my presentation but she came in as if on a mission and wanted to talk to me. She was looking for answers and I knew it. I held her hands and told her that there was a reason why she did not hear my presentation directly. It was the will of the Universe for her to enter the room when she did so that we could talk in a quiet environment.

I prayed for the other woman in red who stood there after the presentation as if she was in a trance. I knew she wanted to talk but she was not ready. She knew what I was talking about and what I hoped to achieve with “Seeds of Insight.”

 All I needed was thirty minutes to present my case. The Universe changed the conference programme around and shifted my presentation from a health focus to that of “affordable new technologies.” The mathematics professor from Connecticut, who presented just before I did, returned to the room, sat down and listened. He did not have to say a word. I knew I reached him. He is now another seed.       

The Challenge

When I came home I was drained but I was certain that something was happening. I took a shower and went to bed. I was just too tired to even think…the positive energies had battled with the negative ones and once again they were victorious.  I woke up at about 1:00 am and sent a brief e-message to Kennesaw and entered a post on my Facebook page.

I am now ready for the challenge!

An e-mail from a very wise man 

There was an e-mail waiting for me that was not opened until the wee hours of the morning. It was from a man I met recently. He was concerned about the following:

*              “Does Antonio know what it means to be made a ward of the state?”

*              “Will the judge have a completed social enquiry on Antonio today in court?”

*              “There are clear admission guidelines at the —– Children’s Home. All admissions must be wards of the state. The CDA placement officer makes recommendation for placement; and must inform the home at least one month before placement can take effect.”

The man said that he ”cannot make admissions in conjunction with concerned citizens; there is a process.”
  

I told him that I understood. 

Hooked

If you think you are the only one that is hooked on this case, you are wrong. I am hooked too.

Antonio spent Friday night (November 20th) in State care at the St. Joseph’s Place of Safety.

On Sunday afternoon about 1:00 pm, November 22, 2009, I met Allison under the big Guango Tree at Andrew’s Memorial Hospital. We then drove up to Red Hills to meet Michelle. Pretty soon we were on our way to another Mount Zion…Mount Zion again…I have been going there a lot in recent times.

Michele

Michele was full of energy when I met her on Sunday. She is a lawyer…a “down to earth” Jamaican young woman who was ready for the road in her mission jeans and her passion cap. As soon as she got in the car she wanted to know about my life and she did not hesitate to ask.

She noticed my manicured nails, my recently groomed locks, my grey wedding blouse and my Fossil leather purse.  Michele was serious.

We had a wonderful time driving up to Mount Zion. I told Michelle about “Seeds of Insight” and Allison listened intently. Michele was excited…so excited that she invited me to speak to her New Generation Rotary club members in early December. Michele seemed thrilled when I told her about how I was able to transform negative male energy into positive male energy. She understood what I was experiencing with my blog and she wanted to learn more.

St. Joseph’s

We arrived at St. Joseph’s around 2:30 pm…If my memory serves me right. The Place of Safety is located in one of the most beautiful hills of Jamaica. As we entered the unmanned gate-way, I noticed that the road was in need of repair. There was a playfield to the left and there were about twenty boys playing football (soccer). We then proceeded further up the hill, following the driveway to the right. Boys were everywhere.

The main building showed signs of fatigue. The walls were battered and worn with many gaping holes in the siding and at the foundation. It was an old house on an old property that stood tall on Mount Zion.

 I spotted Antonio first.

We parked and then exited the car. A young man who I recognized seeing that we were visitors met us by the concrete steps and smiled. He introduced himself as Mr. Grant (not his real name), the Duty Officer. He asked us if we had a permission to visit and we said no. I explained to him that we were there to visit Antonio who was brought in on Friday night and told him that I was in fact promised a letter by the authorities. Mr. Grant escorted us to the steps of the main building where we met Miss Versatile, the House Mother and social worker aide.

We learned that the capacity of the building was fifty (50) with a ninety percent occupancy; the man in charge at St. Joseph’s was Mr. Calmright.

Mr. Calmright

Mr. Calmright arrived in about half an hour. He was dressed in a comfortable business outfit sporting a light knitted vest over a crisp white shirt. He seemed to know why we were there and invited us into his office. As we climbed the stairs I noticed the commercial red oak dye on the floor; there were at least six patriotically painted columns supporting the roof over the veranda. I admired the black, green and gold spirals on the columns and was intrigued by the charcoal airbrushed design on the ceiling over the veranda.

St. Joseph’s is in need of a good facelift, maybe even a makeover or a total demolition and reconstruction. The man in charge knew that but he made the best of what he had to work with. We met in the main office which also serves as the counseling room. We learned that Food For the Poor, Digicel, Kentucky Fried Chicken, Red Cross, 4-H, and a few churches made contributions. UTECH students came recently too. The upcoming Christmas season promised to be a good time for St. Joseph’s – a time of giving that is always too short.

By this time I figured out that one of the main challenges was that “everybody mix up.” There were boys there with serious social and mental health needs mixed in with others who seemed generally adjusted to their living environment.

The duty officers are like fathers.

“Within a week they get a medical…”

Antonio knew Mr. Calmright. He was there before and he had a file safely locked away in the metal cabinet.

We confirmed that he had a court date in Kingston for Monday, November 23rd. We were told that the investigating officer would be visiting the family.

I was somewhat relieved to hear that Antonio had two parents.

Mr. Calmright slowly told us about St. Joseph’s history and the programmes offered there. We were impressed with the simple yet complex man.  He boasted about his high achievers who were now doing well for themselves. He shared stories that were like movies and we were enthralled. We realized that  he was a special man who found his calling twenty-one years ago as a National Youth Service Volunteer and had been at the head of the institution for the last twenty.

“Visits are allowed one day per week…any day from 10:00 am to 4:00 pm.”

The average stay for the boys on paper is three months…complex cases stay longer…the longest he saw was eight months.

Michele asked how things had changed since Armadale and I got the impression that St. Joseph’s was not significantly impacted by Armadale.

St. Joseph’s was owned by a lawyer who sold it to Donald Sangster. The institution has been operating under the auspices of the Child Development Agency since 2004.

Enter Mr. Satisfaction

Mr. Satisfaction is “homegrown” and recently married. He lived at St. Joseph’s for many years. He is excellent at woodwork. Mr. Calmright smiled with satisfaction as he showed us the door that was recently rehabilitated, now standing with Mr. Satisfaction’s ”trademark of neatness.”

The Calmright’s Passion

Antonio sat in the room quietly as we listened to Mr. Calmright. He told us that he went to church earlier with the lady in full red…he told us at least two times that he went to church.  

Mr. Calmright also runs a “half-way-house” for six (6) eighteen plus year old men nearby but we did not get a tour. He is a man who has the interest of the boys at heart and partners with the likes of Mr. Radcliffe at Glenmuir to maintain the best education for the boys who have the aptitude for academics. He was humble enough to tell us about the ward (now an NCU lecturer) who assisted him with statistics when he was working on his bachelor’s degree.

Mr. Calmright uses the exit interview to get ideas for improvement from the boys. He also gets his ideas from his  overseas trips to places like the Hershey Home in Pennsylvania and Dunwoody Baptist in Atlanta, Georgia. He reflected on the resources available at these US institutions and I could tell that he had dreams for St. Joseph’s. He said that he was told that St. Josephs had better success stories than these US institutions, a conclusion made probably because of how the St. Joseph’s boys adjust.

Michele marveled at the man. “Where do I fit you? You are amazing!”

As Mr. Calmright spoke of his wife who he met at the neighbouring high school, I turned my head to admire the charcoal airbrushed ceiling over the veranda again. 

He told us that the building had to be aesthetically pleasing to the eyes and that’s why on Heroes day they painted the columns in black, green and gold. 

That is a Bottle Torch design; right there….fi real! The soot is perfect for the mildew…there is no way we could have known that the ceiling was covered with mildew…not when the Bottle Torch design stood out like a work of art. I wished that I had a camera but it really did not matter much because I knew that I would never forget that Bottle Torch design in my entire life…just like how Allison would never forget the silence she heard at Pegasus last Friday.      

Michele was right. Mr. Calmright was not an ordinary man. Michele and I looked at each other and we laughed out load. “Fi real!”

Behind me on the blackboard was written in chalk:

Steps in conflict resolution:

1.             Calm down

2.             Agree to talk it out (honesty)

3.            Points of view

4.            Solve the problem

After three hours of great conversation we knew we had to leave for Kingston. Allison had to pick up her children and it was getting dark. 

On our way down the steps, Mr. Calmright pointed to the bare windows covered by tarp in the Food Science Office/House Mother’s Room and told us that JMMB had donated new windows.

We then heard from Mr. Calmright about what happened on Friday night and I was not shocked at all. A leader will always be a leader. I do hope that in time there will be opportunities for him to exercise his leadership in constructive ways.

Like a woman on a mission

Michele drove back to the main town. She drove like a woman on a mission. We stopped at her office for a while and she collected her files. Allison contacted Audrey Budhi and the CDA officer who escorted Antonio down to St. Joseph’s regarding the court date on Monday.

We had many good laughs together. Allison, Michele and I. We were together for the first time on a mission for Antonio. In a jiffy with Michele at the wheel we were in Kingston.

 Antonio us now in State care!

Antonio is now in State care! He was escorted from the Jamaica Pegasus Hotel by a tall man in a peach-beige shirt who knew a lot about the behaviour of boys in Places of Safety in Jamaica but did not seem to know the direction to Antonio’s temporary home at St. Joesph’s (not the real name of the Place of Safety). 

We all assured Antonio that his stay at St. Josephs would be short. The authorities said that he would only spend the weekend there and that he would appear before the judge on Monday, November 23, 2009. They said that the process must be followed. The judge will make a decision on Monday on where he goes next.

Source: This photo is copied from trudyboom.wordpress.com/feed.

The Pegasus Pride (a poem for Antonio)

He cried in my presence and I wondered why

Was he missing his mother with emotions high?

Did he feel betrayed by all of us who tried?

Or was he overcome by the Pegasus Pride

He pointed to his elbow on his left hand side

He wanted to make sure I saw that it was wide

It was a nasty shiny scar that extended deep

Sewn in haste and covering the surface at the crease

He asked for help to buy a much needed cellular phone

He already had some cash folded, Michael Manley’s own

He knew that it could be secured at the government home

But that was not his main concern or what made him frown

Antonio was so happy to see me at the Pegasus yesterday

His face lit up when I walked in on black and gray

I hugged him like how I would hug my other boys

The first hug, the holding of hands and some joys

Allison was there, Novia too, Nada stood and Robert sat true

Saccsha, Marva, Audrey Budhai and Mrs. Clark sat down too

I then felt when She moved away gracefully through the door

Deep feelings abound as Antonio cried feeling almost secure

We waited outside the hotel while Novia got his clothes

One little shopping bag he had and all that he knows

He hugged me tight again, this time lifting me off the ground

I was reminded of His strength and young men profound

The Pegasus Stride (a poem for Tamian) 

Yesterday Tamian called me from the Possibility Programme

He was there to register Antonio as planned

But the lady told him that there was no space

Not until January she said, when we will place

But Allison told us that they had room for three boys

That was last week after she saw Jerusalem’s flaws

Were all the spaces taken in such a short time?

Or was this another example of the bureaucracy line?

Tamian called me at about 11:12 am and then at 11:43

My last call to him was from my home to Possibility

I tried to call three more times but no answer drew

I received Allison’s call at 11:42 and after a minute I knew 

Tamian was at the Pegasus on stage with Antonio in stance

Making his case again for rights, justice and assistance

“Ann Marie, you should have been here to see and hear”

The Pegasus Stride caused a loud silence as they all stared

I pulled on a clean blouse and jumped in my dirty jeans

Rushed through the door without telling Miss Liz please

As I drove I thought about Tamian’s frustration again

Why he had to Stand Up for justice in front of TV camera plain   

When I came home I sat in my car and waited for the news

There in the headlines it was, another story about refuse

Street children especially boys now over six thousand lurk

According to the report, all over Jamaica they live and work

It was about 3:40 when Mr. Berry from the OCA called to explain

He was trying to be very sensitive about the case while investigating

I told him about what I saw earlier at the Jamaica Pegasus Station

Then ended our conversation on the SDA plans for a home in Clarendon           

Saccsha Ebanks called at around 4:20 and said she spoke in grace

To Mrs. Perkins, the administrator who said there was space

I could not take the contact number for Mrs. Perkins

Because my hands were dirty from seasoning the chickens

We are now watching and waiting to see the outcome of the case

Mothers, fathers, social workers, teachers, judges, and advocates

How long will it take to place him in a child-friendly institution?

One that respects his fundamental rights and his universal freedoms

That is the story I heard yesterday at the Pegasus and on TV

The story of a teenage boy who lived on the streets with three

For thirty-one days after he told his story to all the powers that be

He slept on cardboard and Red Cross blanket in the park at Marverly

_____________________________________________________

Here endeth Part One of Antonio Thompson’s story. May the power and the Peace of God be with us all and give us the strenght to continue on. Amen!

The YMCA and the Possibility Programme

I called the YMCA yesterday (Thursday, November 19th) hoping to speak to Sarah but she was out on duty travel. The lady who answered the telephone gave me the telephone number for the Possibility Programme and told me that Mrs. Perkins is the administrator there. I called the number but the telephone rang without an answer.

Later on in the day I called Tamian. He told me that he would be taking Antonio over to the Possibility Programme to get him registered and that he is hoping that they will admit him. Tamian mentioned to me that Antonio called him  yesterday.

Tamian will be up very early this morning. He has to go and pick up Antonio and take him over to the Possibility Programme before noon as he will be away for a while.

The Child Development Agency and the Office of the Children’s Advocate

I have not heard a word from the Child Development Agency or the Office of the Children’s Advocate regarding Antonio and the other boys.

The Interview

Yesterday I had an interview for a contract to protect and promote  the rights of children and adolescents in Jamaica…talk about the alignment of the Universe and the “law of attraction!” Or, is it just a mere coincidence? God knows the reason for this interview at this time…I will not question that. 

Is blogging all that you do?

No. I am a pretty decent wife and mother who decided to do something to assist one young man who needed support to help another. I decided to act instead of sit in my little corner and complain.

What are you doing?

Is that enough?

I left a message for Mr. Courtney Berry, Investigation Officer at the Office of the Child Advocate on Wednesday, November 18th, 2009. I would like to know if he met Antonio.  

Tamian said he is making arrangements for Antonio to get into Possibility Programme. Maybe I should give Sarah a call. 

I will also call Tamian later.

I really need to visit Antonio…maybe after 12 noon today (Thursday).  

TVJ’s “All Angles”

I watched the “All Angles” show last night and I must say that I was not shocked with the reports given by the ex-ward of Armadale because similar reports/testimonies were given at the Inquiry. What a “Hell Hole” it must have been in that place for those girls.

Tamian is right. If children are going to be removed by the State from their homes, then they should be placed in better living conditions than what they are leaving behind at home. What are we doing to our children?

Christmas

Christmas is ’round the corner…and I am not in the mood for all this madness.    

Please pass around the news to everyone you know.  

Guest: Tamian Beckford

On TVJ’s   “All Angles” show

Tonight (Wednesday, November 18, 2009) at 9:00 pm. 

Let us all support Tamian as he advocates on behalf of children in institutional care and street children. 

Please remember to keep Antonio, the other boys, the entire Jerusalem community and Jamaica in your prayers.

Allison is reminding us to be consistent in our efforts.

Bethany recognises our courage.

Jennifer appreciates those simple acts of love. 

Blessings!

Strong Currents

Last night I felt strong currents coming in from youth camp at Clarendon College, our smiling black dog and my free flowing hair. They were so powerful that I had to open my eyes and rise. I walked over to the rear balcony and acknowledged my God who was shining through the skies with an unbearable light. I breathed while I counted the mountain ranges and their shadows watching over the city and my life.

“Honey, do you know what I am going through at this time? Do you really understand?”

My husband realized that I was asking a very serious question.

“Do you know what I am experiencing with this writing?”

“I know you enjoy it immensely.”

“Oh, My God! Can you imagine what Ellen, Marcus and Martin went through?”

“Yes, she was inspired…telling us about health and where to build our colleges and our universities…it was divine intervention…You, where you are coming from and how you want to help these boys…it must be divine.”

“Oh, for you to say that to me…I know that you understand what I am going through.”

“The mornings are perfect here. Listen to the birds my dear. Listen to them sing because they will be quiet later on today. Why is that so? Why are they so chirpy now?”

“The early birds are out to catch the worms that came out last night; the worms are their food.”

As I listened to my husband I felt his father’s strong energy. His presence was in the room along with all the other men and I was energized.

I pause now to acknowledge all of my mute readers. You know yourselves.

My Mute Readers (inspired by a quiet rural mother).

I am a church sister who reads your blog everyday

I do not comment but I always pray

I am your loving sister far away in Asia

I admire your hair; please keep the flavour.

I am a teacher who reads your blog, everyone

And wonder how the IT parts are done    

I would love to use this talent of mine

But I do not know where to turn or how to climb

I am a new mother who reads you blog but not everyday  

Sometimes I fall behind with work and stray

Things are very busy at home now for sure

With four seeds in my home to nurture

I am a writer who just love to read your blog alone

I had to tell you last week how I felt after reading ”Teeth and Bones”

Your strong themes have inspired me to write again

I will try to find a focus here in my home and the rain

I am your buddy reading your blog in a strange land

I just had to let you know that I moved as planned

And how intrigued I am with Jamaica’s glow  

Your journey so far and now this boy, Antonio  

I am reading your blog while in the kitchen I stand

I told her and she told you about my undivided attention

I have been listening and reading ever since Stony Hill

Indeed, I am also upset about Armadale; the silent pill

I am the quiet rural one who reads your blog

The story of the yellow yam and the dog

Was told to my teenage daughter word for word

My extended family and friends have also heard

I am the Chief who reads your blog despite all the noise

I am here thinking about my priorities and my choice

I liked the story about Tracks getting out of the rut

And how you forgot about your son’s haircut   

I am a preacher who reads your blog and watch your cues

I want to tell you that I respect your controversial views

While I do not always agree with your commentary

I wish you the best in your ongoing ministry

I am your best friend who reads your blog while I work

Convinced that you have found your calling on earth

I am praying hard that God will answer this week

So that you can continue on this journey meek

I am a counselor who reads your blog while I prepare

But I will never comment with this left hand for them to hear   

My wife reads them too and we both admire you

That’s why I bow like a gentleman the way I do

I am a son who reads your blog like that

I never comment on your posts but I will “chat”

I see all that is happening out here from above

So I want to let you know that I feel your love.

Copyright November 17, 2009

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Bethany

We met for the first time at Cafe Blue in the Sovereign Centre. I was quite comfortable and so was she. She offered me a drink from the coffee bar but I settled for an Ocean Spray cranberry juice. We only had about twenty minutes to talk about my book and transfer the file onto her jump drive before her departure to the airport. She noticed and commented that we were dressed exactly the same; in brown sleeveless blouses, jeans pants and brown slippers. I smiled knowing that the Universe had brought us together and responded when she asked me if there was anything else I wanted to share.  

A few weeks ago we met on “Facebook” through Jae and we have been communicating ever since. We have similar passions and interests that brought us together…so we did not have to say much about our individual lives or our immediate families. Our meeting was really a validation and approval of my book (“Seeds of Insight”), an appreciation of our sweet senses at dawn and an affirmation of our men. She understood why I needed to “immortalize” them in a safe place.

I also met her friend, another sweet woman; just like that we were all sharing our first fifteen minutes together at the same dining table in Cafe Blue talking about run-away children, unmotivated boys, “Facebook” and “Fassbook,” social networking and self publishing. Bethany and my new friend Donna had no doubts about my work, which I found almost prophetic. They were talking about editing and printing without me even asking. God knows I was not surprised because I already saw the cover of this book in the store and Jennifer also told me that she saw it too.

Antonio’s story

Antonio’s story is quite advanced in its twenty-sixth day. That might just be Book Three…somehow I feel that his story must be told for a long time and written permanently in our history.    

Book Four

The first three pages of the next book are written and so far Jennifer and Bethany like it. I will not question God or His Universe. If a fourth book is to be written, then His Will must be done. I must say though that I am not feeing the energy right now for Book Four, which according to Bethany and Jennifer will be about the nurturing of these men. A book that is going to focus on helping myself and other women to learn how to smell the sweets scent just before dawn will be a book about “nurturing” as Bethany said and as Jennifer reinforced. In order for me to write that book, I need to be close to my favourite men.

Will I be able to tap into their energies when I am hundreds of miles away in the USA? I know that the currents will be weak where the lively birds sleep in the winter and the sun sets at 5:00 pm. I will not be able to open my windows and feel nature’s breezes as they rush in to caress my skin because I will be snuggling underneath my blanket to keep warm. I am definitely going to need a greater source of energy to write Book Four because the men will be even more demanding than in Book One.  This time, they are going to expect more from me; they are going to expect that I submit to them even more as they shower me with their love. The older ones are going to need companionship and intimacy while the younger ones will need guidance and stability.      

God you answered my prayers yesterday when you sent Bethany to me. She took the time to read my blog posts and was able to feel my passions. She did not reveal anything to me that I did not know. But by following your Design, she flew in on the direction of the Universe to her alma mater and stopped by to provide me with more clarity. She was sober like the handsome men I met in Jerusalem and in Stone River; as sober as the unidentified man’s teeth in Jerusalem and as sober as the young pastor’s perceived custom made suit in Stone River.

Mr. Berry

Mr. Berry from the Office of the Children’s Advocate called again today. He told me that he will be going over to Jerusalem to visit the boys. I reminded him to be sensitive and I prayed for peace and love. Again I prayed for the best outcome but this time we were about forty (40) strong in prayer - from Jamaica, Canada, the United States, Great Britain, Kenya, Cambodia, The Philippines and the far distances of the Universe.

Tamian

Tamian called this evening (Monday, November 16th) and told me that he would be visiting Antonio tomorrow. He will bring him some clothes and provide support and brotherly guidance.

“All Angles”

Tamian will be on TVJ’s “All Angles” show on Wednesday evening (November 18th, 2009). He will remember his life, Antonio’s life and the lives of all street children. I wonder what the topic will be.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

I woke up with a tremendous urge to get my poem, “Cushion and Cardboard” to the Governor General. I thought about delivering it directly at Kings House and I also thought about delivering it via the Pastor but I had to get to Mount Zion first (see below).  

Office of the Children’s Advocate

I spoke to Courtney Berry, Investigating Officer at the Office of the Children’s Advocate on Friday (November 13, 2009). He was referred to me by Dr. Sensitivity who happens to know the Children’s Advocate very very well. I sent Mr. Berry a copy of the letter I sent to the Child Development Agency and directed him to my blog posts.    

The Health Centre

I now have the contact names for a nurse and a doctor at the nearest clinic to Jerusalem. Dr. Sensitivity gave me the link on Friday. So, with a little more help the boys can see a doctor. Right?   

Introducing Aunt Resilience and the Sabbath Lesson

Aunt Resilience is visiting Jamaica from the United States. She is here for a church sister’s funeral. I just love Aunt Resilience; I love her because she is almost ninety, strong as a lion and appreciates her history. Aunt Resilience is a nurse like I am and a teacher, sewing “Seeds of Insight” to those who are smart enough to pay attention.

Aunt Resilience asked her nephew if He could come down to Stone River (not the real name of the community) on Sabbath. After discussing the request with His wife, the decision was made. God through the Universe had set aside Saturday, November 14th as a special day. Of course I was happy to go along to meet again with the country people and smell the sweet scents of God in all His glory.

“Hustle di Money”

Next door to the Burger King in May Pen was a Captain’s Bakery; we stopped to purchase some snacks. Low and behold! There in the show case of Captain’s I saw some flat buns with these words written in red food coloring on their glazed tops:

Hustle di Money

“Hustle di Money” (this bun was in the centre of the tray).

“Fluffy to di wurl” (this was the largest bun).

“Not nice” (the words on this bun were easily noticed…much clearer than the rest.)

I smiled to myself as I saw how the Captain (or the baker) was using the messages of the streets to market his product. I asked permission from the women selling in the bakery to take a photograph. They agreed.

From May Pen we journeyed on up into Stone River, a community in the constituency of Mr. Pearnel Charles (the man who is known for his half black – half white hairdo which splits his head into two imperfect sides, separating his right head from his left).

“The road does not look familiar at all,” I remarked to my husband.

“Sure, it looks very different ’cause the roads are bad.”

We drove through the unfamiliar roads, my husband hurrying to get to church…we were already late. I noticed two old bridges and as we drove over them, I prayed that they would not collapse with us. I wondered if they would be strong enough to withstand another Hurricane.

“YOU ARE ENTERING STONE RIVER” said the friendly street sign. 

We arrived safely at the square and I immediately remembered the times I had visited before. The Guango Tree was still standing but I did not notice it. The car swerved to the left and in a few minutes we pulled into the church yard and parked. The sermon was already in “full swing.”

The Sermon

“…God’s people should not be altering between two opinions…be sure your anchor holds and grips the solid rock…these people draw unto me with their lips but their hearts are far from me…

…I have shoes on my feet, food on the table, lovely wife and a home…all of these I have yet I am indebted to Jesus Christ…

Whatever it is that is determined by God, no man can change. God said don’t go, but he chose to go…the angel of the Lord withstand him in the way…

On the matter of unequally yoked, the First Elder paused to tell another story, “I know of a sister who married to a man for fifteen years and everything seemed to be going well but after fifteen years the marriage broke up. Even if it took fifteen years, it came to pass…”

I listened to the First Elder preached with his not-so-good English, his perfect message and his loud voice into the Jamaican microphone; I closed my eyes and asked God:

“But a wonda if dis man a drop wud fi mi sah? I hope not “cause I could teach him a ting or two ’bout unequally yolked – I could teach him The Truth about unequally yolked.”     

I decided to pay attention to the sermon and rest my case on the matter of unequally yoked.

The First Elder continued to preach: “The donkey fell down and worship…and even then the man was worshiping in ignorance…God knows how to get your attention…Balaam struck the — these three times you have hit me…these times you have worked me…if I had a sword, I would…any where you ask me to go I carry you…and now that I see something that you don’t see…you want to destroy me.’ After the donkey talk, the man’s eyes were open and he saw…”

Crescendo

CHURCH “if you could see what I see – brethren we should not lack vision. We have everything to empower us to go on. I am with you to keep you. We have the Holy Spirit to show us the way…and if as a church we have such a powerful force…we cannot stay ‘wishy-washy’…”

A church sister who was sitting two benches up and across the far left from me could not stand her ground any longer, she yelled, “HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH!

“We must have that hope that burns within our hearts…” yelled the First Elder.

“AMEN! AMEN!” shouted the sister.

“…Lord, Plant my feet on higher ground…”

The sister got up from her seat and “turn her roll,” clap a few times and shouted again, “HALLELUJAH! YES! AMEN!

“Just over in the promise land…some of us get weary…some of us get tired…there we must enter, never more to roam…we must live a Godly and sober life in this present world…

And God’s anger was kindled because he went…some of us have been too presumptuous…we need to change our ways…God said go with the men…Balaam went with the princes of Balak…we would have save ourselves the trouble we are now in if we listened the first time…and we are so presumptuous that we ask God to bless!”

Again I wondered if the preacher was talking to me ’cause I know the “runnings.” 

As he lowered his voice and settled the congregation he said his final words, “The word that God putteth in thy mouth that he shall speak. For too long as a church we know what God requires of us…There is no lack of knowledge but we fail to surrender…”

Boy, the First Elder “chaw fire” up at Stone River yesterday before he called on the pastor to close the service. The pastor was a young man, well dressed in his deep forest green suit, beige shirt visible only at the collar, deep voice with perfect English and handsome to the bone.

Later Aunt Resilience and I spoke about the “underling” and I asked myself, “Who is the underling? Is it the First Elder or is it the Pastor?”

The Pastor’s wife was also young and bright. She came over to greet us and provided comfort. 

Ras and Son

After church we ate lunch provided by the brethren. Some of us sat on wooden benches under the Guinnep tree, some on the graves in the church yard, some on specially donated chairs and others sat in the vestry. I noticed a Rasta Man too who later told me, “I am a member of the church.” He saw that my husband was taking lots of photographs so he asked for one. I prompted my husband to take the Ras’ photo; it was a wonderful sight, just admiring the Rasventist with his young son.      

Mount Zion

There are many Mount Zions in Jamaica but none as significant as the one up there on top of Stone River. We have been to Stone River many times but never to Mount Zion where it all started. Aunt Resilience changed that yesterday…the Universe through her took me up to Mount Zion. We left the church and drove up to the hill top. On our journey we noticed the narrow road, old buildings, men, women and children. We noticed a go-cart repair yard on the side of the road and the scene moved the grieving daughter to say, “Oh, Jamaicans are so innovative.”       

 

We approached Mount Zion Baptist Church on the hill called Diamond. That was the church where they all worshiped as children. It served as a church and a school in those days. His grandmother is resting on the other side of the road. I thought about her and my grandmother as they sleep on Mount Zion’s hill; one in Clarendon and the other in Hanover. Aunt Resilience and the rest of the party walked around the Baptist church yard and admired the old building. It was still standing tall but was battered and dry; though the grass was cut, there was little evidence of a vibrant life. The old belfry was barely standing and the steps that led up to the church door was hastily daubed with commercially made red oak dye, an indication of the mood that now exists in many of these traditional churches. There was a tiny house adjacent to Mount Zion Baptist. I learned that the “high coloured” minister lived there in those days; it was only two rooms and stood on one wooden stilt and many supporting concrete-stone legs.

Mount Zion Baptist Church

Churches like Mount Zion Baptist were always built with very high ceilings and solid stone walls on the hills…the best hills of Jamaica. I am noticing now that the Adventist churches are built generally out of modest material and situated in the valleys where the people live. People do not have to walk up to the hills for church anymore; the hills with their churches have now moved down to the people.

And so it is with Dancehall…the music have moved down to the valleys to live among the people. That’s why the preacher shouts just like the dancehall artiste because the voice has to be loud enough to spread across the valley and rise up into the hills. 

“If walls could talk,” the voice said.

Everybody sick

Miss Pollie lives on Mount Zion.  She is hard of hearing in her eight decade of life but she remembers everyone. She reminded me of Miss Marry from Georgia Road (where my roots can be found). What a woman fi chat! 

She spoke about Dick, Tom and Harry; ol’ time days and modern days; young wife and ol’ wife. Miss Pollie chat with her mouth and her big round eyes. She chat till she looked like she was tired and then left us with these words, ”Everybody sick…sickness everywhere.”

Curry Pus

On our way down the hill we stopped by the 1954 church to say our last goodbyes. “Curry Pus” was still there walking unsteadily on her crooked cane. She had tumors all over her visible skin; tumors that twisted her nose and tumors that bent her fingers. Her feet were carefully covered but not enough to hide the swelling which forced the shape of her tough slippers. 

“Come out a di church yard Curry Puss,” a young man yelled from underneath the Guinnep tree.

“You rass yu, nuh mek mi tell yu ’bout yu rass,” I heard her say with her sick and needy voice.

Curry Puss obeyed the young man and left the church yard. I did not notice if she was fed but I suspected that she was.

Back to Antonio in Kingston

We descended the hill from Stone Hill SDA and noticed the Guango Tree. It was still standing tall in the middle of the square. I mused, “This country square is not as old as mine in Cascade; not at all.”

We drove back to Kingston in silence. I was thinking about family life with all its complexities and I was thinking about Antonio. My young son was sleeping uncomfortably on the back seat of the car, a space that he had outgrown. I thought about Antonio again and Miss Puncie. The last time I spoke to them was on Thursday. Antonio called me from Miss Puncie’s phone to tell me thanks for the blankets. He asked me to return the call. When I did, I heard a recording of the song, “Mercy Said No” playing like a testimony on Miss Puncie’s cell phone.

“I just want to say thank, Thank You.”  

Tamian was right. Antonio is sincere.

Note to my readers:  All relevant addresses in this letter are removed. The location of the boys is referred to as “Jerusalem” (the pseudonym used for the community so far).   

November 12, 2009

Miss Allison Anderson

Child Development Agency

——————-

——————-

Dear Miss Anderson,

Re: A street child who told his story to the United Nations and Jamaica is still sleeping on cardboards in a park.   

I am aware of a case of four boys (ranging in age from 9 – 15), who appear to be living and working on the streets in Jerusalem (not the real name of the community), who are in need of attention. I met one of them, “Antonio” (not his real name), at the launch of the Study on Child Poverty in Jamaica, held at the Pegasus Hotel on October 21, 2009. His plight was featured on a video diary that was shown at the event. I was informed by Mr. Tamian Beckford that you were apprised of the case after the event.

On October 24, 2009, I visited Antonio at the park; there I learned that he was not alone. I discovered that there were three other boys. Since then, I have been trying to get the attention of the relevant authorities to provide assistance for these children, including the Child Development Agency (CDA) and the Ministry of Health. I have been writing daily blog posts about Antonio’s case to record this effort. So far, I have not had any luck in getting help.

My first contact was with the CDA. Two direct phone calls were made to your office, at which time I mentioned the case to Miss Edwards (October 23, 2009) and Mrs. Waller (after October 23, 2009 but prior to November 3, 2009). Mrs. Waller informed me that she was aware of the case and would wait on Mr. Anderson (Jamaica National Children’s Home) to contact her.

On Monday October 26, the case was also called in to the Office of the Children’s Advocate. Please see link here: http://marcampbellja.wordpress.com/2009/10/26/antonio-thompson-day-6/  

I have also consulted with a number of concerned individuals, including Mrs. Allison Hickling, UNICEF Communication Specialist, who was involved in the launch, and Mr. Anderson from the Jamaica National Children’s Home (mentioned above).

Please see the link here for the first blog or you may read it in the appendix that is attached to this letter: http://marcampbellja.wordpress.com/2009/10/22/child-poverty-and-disparites-what-good-is-a-campaign-without-compassion/. You may also follow the other blog posts from this link.

From a number of visits made to the boys, I have gleaned some information about their living circumstances, but I do not have all the facts. I realize that this is a very complex matter and requires due process be followed, including a thorough assessment to ascertain the actual conditions regarding their living circumstances and relationships with their parents/caregivers/relatives.

I hope there is a way the CDA can assist these boys without committing them in a prison-type place of safety. Possible humane options that have arisen in my various conversations include:

• Assistance through the public health route, though they do not appear sick. One of the boys has some rashes on his legs and feet; another boy’s legs appear a little swollen.
• Placement in the Jamaica National Children’s Home, the Possibility Programme or relevant Children First programme, the latter through the expert intervention of Mrs. Claudette Pious (who has been made aware of this case). 

Though something needs to be done soon, we should all act with care. As you are well aware, if treated with insensitivity and force by the police or any other entity, these boys will probably just run away again if they are stripped of their rights and freedoms. I am praying for a good outcome for all of them.

Sincerely,

Ann Marie E. Campbell

cc:        Leroy Anderson, Director, National Children’s Home         

              Tamian Beckford, CARICOM Commissioner on Youth Development

              Sheila Campbell-Forrester, Chief Medical Officer

              Mary Clarke, Children’s Advocate

              Allison Hickling, Communication Specialist, UNICEF

              Claudette Pious, Children First

Appendix

When a child tells his story of homelessness, poverty and hunger to the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), the Child Development Agency (CDA) and others at the Jamaica Pegasus Hotel but has to return to the streets, something is wrong!

A few days ago I received an e-mail from Andrew Francis, Youth Coordinator for the HIV/AIDS Programme at the Ministry of Education and Co-founder of the Jamaica Youth Advocacy Network regarding the “Launch of the Study on Child Poverty and Disparities in Jamaica & Observation of the International Day for the Eradication of Poverty” at the Jamaica Pegasus Hotel, Kingston. I immediately entered the date into my Google Calendar and made arrangements with my husband to transport our son home from school.

Dr. Michael Witter

While I had more than one reasons to attend this launch, I was motivated by my desire to meet Dr. Michael Witter, Seniour Lecturer in the Department of Economics at the University of the West Indies (UWI) and the presenter for the study. I wanted to ask him a question that had been on my mind for quite some time. And frankly, I developed a liking for the man when I met him over eight years ago in his office at UWI. I had gone there at the recommendation of my boss to share the findings of our (Campbell & Campbell) qualitative study on prostitution. Dr. Witter expressed an appreciation of the findings and as I recall now, he encouraged us to continue with the good work. I knew then that he valued qualitative inquiry.

Before starting his presentation on the “Study on Child Poverty and Disparities in Jamaica” Dr. Witter highlighted the emotional dub piece by Jahzan, the moving testimony of Shelly-Ann Fraser, O.D., Olympic Champion, and the Video Diary on the “Faces of Child Poverty in Jamaica.” He was humble enough to admit that his “dry” presentation of the data was just another way of telling the story of child poverty and disparities. As I listened to Dr. Witter, I heard a man calling out for help and I saw a man who was in touch with the realities of the poor. I felt encouraged that this was an economist who was not limited by definitions; he understood that poverty was  more than the inability to afford a minimum diet. I heard him repeat the importance of looking at parental love and I felt his pain.   

I walked over to Dr. Witter after the launch and waited my turn to introduce myself and ask my question. Before I was finished with my introduction, he looked me in the eyes and told me that he remembered me from the meeting we had in his office in 2001. My heart was moved by the sensitivity of the man.

“Dr. Witter, why should a parent invest in a college education for her son? Are there any studies out there that show that a college education guarantees employment?”

He smiled as if he knew exactly why I asked the questions and suggested that I look at the population of the unemployed in Jamaica…

“They are mostly uneducated.”

After chatting for about five minutes, the gender perspective emerged and we cried silently in our hearts about our boys.

Antonio Thompson (not his real name)

While I lingered at my table to process my thoughts after most of the participants left, Tamian Beckford (a former street boy, now university student) approached me with a serious look on his face. He knew Antonio, the fifteen year old homeless boy in the video diary. Tamian knew where he lived and slept. Tamian also knew that Antonio was ready for a change in his life; he wanted to get off the streets and return to school. Tamian knew.

“But how can this be? How can we stand by and watch him return to the streets when he wants a home? I know that there are probably hundreds of children out there who are homeless but this one is now standing here asking for our help!” 

Tamian said that he was trying to get him placed into the children’s home where he (Tamian) once lived but the process was taking some time.  Tamian, Tazh (my colleague and friend) and I stood there helpless. Even if we gave him some money he was still homeless, uneducated, hungry, violence prone, and parentless.

Tamian knew. Dr. Witter knew. Tazh knew. I knew. Every single development practitioner who was in that conference room knew and yet we were all helpless.

The Challenge

As we “Stand Up and Speak Out Against Poverty\”  with UNICEF, UNDP and other partners in Jamaica, let us find a way to assist Antonio. What good is a campaign without compassion?