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Your Past, or Middle

Doesn't Dictate your Future

Hello, at the beginning of each academic year, my students invariably ask me, how is it I got involved with classical music, and why my office always smell of coffee, when I don't actually have coffee in there...

so, wanna hear the story? Well, come sit beside me under this Guinep Tree, and I'll tell you about my journey.

I was born in a tiny cow

shed quite by accident...My mom went

into labor while tending goats on the mountain side, but didn't bother to tell anyone, at least that's the story that's come down to me.

Anyway, I made my arrival into the world

very quickly, and there was no time to get off the mountain to the hospital 50 miles away.

This event was followed in short order by a non-event: the birth of my twin brother. Unfortunately, my umbilical cord somehow got wrapped around his neck, and I hauled the poor sod into this world...dead. At least, that's the story that's come down to me

So I lived with the stigma of killing my brother all

my life.

I never knew my parents. My mom ran off when I was

9 months old. No one mentioned a father, though I suspect I

had one.

I lived with my granny, an obeah woman, in whose

cow shed I was born. She was the one who attended to me

at my birth.

Granny Smith, as she was called (and no, she didn't look like an apple), lived in a hut that looked similar to this one

I have no pictures from my childhood because

we were too poor to own a camera.

Granny was well respected in the village at the foot of the

mountains because she could cure a myriad of illnesses.

when I was old enough, I went to Mocho

Primary.

Granny took me by donkey to the foot of the mountains

everymorning at 5:00am and waited until someone collected me to

take me to the school.

Every Friday night Granny took me to

concerts in the village to hear music such as this.

I took the high school entrance exam...in my day

it was called Common Entrance, which was similar

to today's GSAT.

The Ministry of Education said that because

I didn't go to such a great primary school, I could

only get into Papine Secondary, which is now Papine High

Holy Hot Pepper Shrimp! That was all the way on the other side

of the Blue Mountains, in Kingston

Look closely at the map below, you'll

see the distance.

It wasn't all bad. I was quickly adopted by some

nice people living in Cherry Gardens. They paid my

tuition, books, clothes, and sent me to music lessons.

I saw Granny at first every weekend, then once

a month, then twice per year, until the visits stopped

althogether. I never saw Granny Smith again.

I hated music lessons...and I spent my

time causing loads of trouble.

my adopted parents soon grew tired of

visiting the school's principal and getting an

earfull. They grew tired of me royally embarrassing them when they threw their parties.

I ended up in "Juvie School" for

wayward girls

By some miracle I managed to

finish school and went to live on the north coast, working in a hotel.

...it was my adopted parents

who got me the job and paid for me to

study music with another teacher, whom I

actually liked. At least I didn't stuff her false teeth

in the dog's mouth when she left them soaking as I did with the other teacher's teeth when I was young.

I actually got quite good at music, and after about

three years, a lovely American couple, who had been

visiting the hotel every year, heard me practicing in the lounge.

the husband was professor at

Lorrain Community College, and he arranged

for me to go there to study...

That's in the US.

I worked hard at first, and managed to get

into a real 4-year college, Kent State University where

I studied music.

Once I got to Kent, I felt I had finally "arrived," so I slacked

off in my studies and turned to partying...

after my grades dropped , my advisor told me to focus on my studies, and move out of the co-ed dorm.

reluctantly, I followed his advice. Damage had been done, and I had to repeat a bunch of classes, but I worked very hard, and was able to graduate with a music degree.

I never looked back after that taste of

success....

you see...looking back is like driving down

the freeway while looking in your rearview mirror

it's hard to move forward...No! you don't need to try

it.

I realized that I would be stuck if I kept looking back at my

early years, of being branded a killer at birth, of going to poor

quality schools, and ending up in a Juvenile home.

I had only the present within my control. The past

and the middle had no bearing on what my future would

be.

Don't let your past, dictate who you are or

where you are going...you only have

NOW

as for that coffee scent, you know that

coffee grows in the Blue Mountains, well

Granny taught me how to make "perfume"

out of coffee. You'll have to talk to me personally to

find out the process.

thanks for listening...

My story begins a long time ago in the

Jamaican Blue Mountains....

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