About me

Welcome! Thank you for stopping by and having a look. My earliest memory of writing something that anyone appreciated was in grade 6, when, while living in Bermuda, we were asked to write about the annual agricultural exhibition. All grade six visuals and accompanying writings would be displayed inside the school’s assembly hall. Well, I think I may have drawn a parrot fish, and the accompanying text stated something with regards to “flowing with milk and honey”. 

Well, standing next to my work, Ms. Foster, looked at Mrs. Tribley, and in her Bajan accent, told Mrs. Tribley to read what I had written, then stared back at me. I remember being curious as to what that all meant. There was a smirk on her face, but it was indecipherable to me. So, imagine the relief when they both smiled and congratulated me on a wonderful use of imagery. I too, smiled, all the while feeling I was the biggest fraud on Hermitage Road, because just that Sunday, at Sunday school, we talked about the land “flowing with milk and honey”, and there I was, a word thief, smiling through my thievery. 

Bermuda will always hold a special place in my heart. I only lived there in the latter part of my youth, but it is where I came of age, where I understood what it meant to write, to think critically, to center my Blackness. I would later attend university in Canada, where I have made my home. Prior to Bermuda, I spent my early years in Guadeloupe, where I moved with my mother from Dominica, shortly after Hurricane David.

Interestingly, the place I hold dearest is the one I lived in the least. Dominica is simply THE most special place on earth. I feel privileged that the blood of its Africans and its indigenous Kalinago run through my veins. 

Thank you for taking the time to stop by. I honour stories the same way I honour the craft of writing itself. It is the commitment to get it right, from the first line to the last, from the first to the umpteenth draft. 

In honour of the ancestors who dreamed me before I had breath, I write.