Where to start…I think at the beginning.
I was born in Truro to My dad a black man from the Seychelles and my mum who was born in Holland. Sounds simple enough. Then you look a bit deeper and find My Dad’s family were slaves, who when freed took their grandmother’s name as a surname. To honour her. My mum is only half Dutch. Her mum came from Stratford upon Avon – not only that but she is descended from Shakespeare’s wife’s family. I think you will agree a mix not even Shakespeare could have cooked up. So where has this brought me…
Well, my family moved from Bodmin to Mt Hawke when I was between 3 and 4yrs old. Sadly my first memory saw two lads threaten me with a penknife. A girl came up the lane going to the park. Saw then and chased them off. I had lots of fights with friends whilst young because of older children goading them on. I remember running home in fear one day and my mum was at work and her friend sat me down and said ‘You have got to learn to fight your own battles in life. Don’t be afraid.’ So off I went. I beat the first one. But lost to the second – yet always remembering my mum’s friends’ words. Then we moved to St Mabyn…
This was a whole new ball game. I had a teacher who was so racist that whatever I said was wrong (even if it was right). She even sent me out to get beaten up by a gang. My sister had to have a police escort to Wadebridge secondary. All the time never telling my parents what was happening to me.
Then we moved back down to Porthtowen. Back to people I had missed. Back to my old friends. That was all good. Got to be a child like everyone else. Just before secondary school we moved to St Agnes.
I remember meeting all the lads in the area thinking ‘This is alright.’ I remember the first time we had to que for the bus home from school. You were outside the front office. A 3rd year thought he would pick on me…. This was a massive mistake. I was not one to be pushed around at 11yrs old, I was already in men’s large shirts. So it ended as you are thinking. With me being pulled off him. But I never had a problem with older students after that.
I really hope this doesn’t offend a very special lady.
I think I was in the 4th year when a young girl started at Richard Lander. I happened to be walking past with some mates. When I noticed her being bullied by some little ***ts. I turned on them. Without hesitation shouting ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY SISTER!’ (We are not related in any shape or form. It still is one of my favourite moments of my life. I then became her big brother for years to come. She has become an amazing lady, who will always be my little sister.
I had been about 15 when living in St Agnes was not so nice. I remember being asked to show my pockets in spar. I remember being a bit older and anyone from St Agnes will remember Ernie. He was an old man who did a paper round. I loved him, he was amazing. I turned up on Monday morning to collect my papers. The owner Pete (best boss ever). Took me to one side, ‘Ernie wants to talk to you’ he said. ‘Someone has smashed his caravan up. People have said it was you! I have told him I didn’t think so, but he wanted to ask you.’ I was mortified. I am no angel but to do this to Ernie is unthinkable. Soon enough Ernie comes in. I see tears in his eyes, at the thought it could have been me. He comes over and asks me. I tell him how sorry I am that it happened, but when it happened I had been over 200miles away doing an army test. I saw his mood change in front of my eye. The damage was bad but the thought it could have been me was much more damaging for him. But his gain was my loss as from now on whenever something happened in the village my name was put on the list of culprits.
I remember one day I had enough of it. I had gone to storm out of the house. My dad went to stop me. I shouted at him to let me go. He did. I left. I went up to the beacon. I sat on a bench. Looking at my arm. My rage had been so terrifying my dad had let go. I felt ashamed. I had been so terrible to the people who loved me most. I went back home and apologised. My mum was an amazing woman. She sat me down and talked to me. She said ‘Just because people treat you bad, don’t become what they call you. You are better than that. Don’t have a chip on your shoulder. That was the first time I told her of my childhood fights. She cried. She had no idea. She knew I had bruising a lot, but I had said I fell out of trees or fell in the woods.
She asked why I had not told her, I told her what her friends’ words were. Also my sister had enough for them to worry about without me too.
Sorry it is a lot. I have cut so much out. Not in even made it to 17. But I wanted to share some of my life. For all the bad there is so much good. Most of the kids – 99% of the ones I have had fights with – are among the most important people in my life and I love them like family.