11. Maybe one day I’ll go home

Rod Westmaas

This chapter explores the experiences of two people who migrated from British Guiana (Guyana) to Britain during the Windrush era (1948– 64), Eric Huntley and Joyce Trotman. These stories were told during a panel session at the conference ‘Memory, Migration, and Decolonisation in the Caribbean and Beyond’ and to me in oral interview. In their very particular ways the stories related here illustrate the ways in which Caribbean migrants came to Britain, fought against discrimination and contributed to British culture, while longing to return ‘home’.

Due to being part of a political movement in Guyana seeking independence, Eric Huntley was incarcerated for one year in a prison in which his father worked as a warden. He knew, once released, that he needed to lie low and take care of his family. According to Huntley, the love for his country made his departure all the more painful. ‘England’, he said, ‘was my only solution’. His wife, Jessica (now late), reassured him, as they stood on the wharf prior to his boarding the ship to the UK, that he should never stop thinking that, ‘One day I will go home’. When in Britain, however, Huntley continued to campaign for decolonisation and to fight the severe racial discrimination he regularly faced by establishing the radical publisher and bookshop, Bogle-L’Ouverture Publications.

As a teacher in London’s East End, Joyce Trotman demonstrated her resilience to racial abuse and her steadfastness in providing her students with the very best education the system would allow. Taking advantage of the many learning opportunities in the UK, Trotman did return home armed with a BA (1956) in Latin, English and history from Durham University and an MLit (1958) in linguistics from the University of Lancaster. She went back to Guyana, taught at the Government Training Centre, wrote a highly praised book on Guyanese proverbs and retired in London, where she continues to be a beacon of authority with regard to educating Guyanese.

Eric Huntley’s fondest memories as a boy were of the harvest festivals held at the Smith Memorial Church. Its members would bring crops harvested from their farms along with baked goods. The church would be filled with sugar cane, corn, yams, plantain, sugar apples and golden apples as well as delicious plaited breads and other baked goods. On the streets of Georgetown he saw and interacted with persons of Indian and African descent. These were happy days. He observed that each appeared to be drawn towards different persuasions. Indians were stereotyped as being good gardeners and the Africans were mainly clerical workers. His school teachers were all African and strict disciplinarians. He remembers fondly Miss Leitch from the Smith Memorial Church School, who placed young Eric on the front row of the classroom because he was regarded as a clever and attentive student. He and his friends would often play in churchyards and their cemeteries. He can recall reading a faded sign in one church saying, ‘Dogs and slaves not allowed’, an impression, he thought, that was very similar to the ‘No Coloured, No Irish, No Dog’ sign he would encounter in London several years later. The congregation of his church, St Sidwell’s, in the 1930s comprised mainly well-to-do black churchgoers, almost a Who’s Who of British Guiana’s African citizens.

Figure 1. Eric Lindbergh Huntley (born in Kitty, British Guiana, 25 September 1929).

His first job after leaving school was working for the New Amsterdam, Berbice Post Office as a messenger. He eventually moved (back) to Kitty, a suburb of Georgetown, as a 19-year-old post-office worker. He became aware that the postmasters, who were usually older men, treated younger postal workers with respect, often encouraging them to seek higher education. This, he observed, was the exception in British Guiana, as typical workers did not enjoy this type of relationship with their managers. He joined the Post Office Workers trade union, becoming its assistant secretary, and published a bulletin for the post-office workers countering the pro-colonial literature taught in the majority of British Guianese schools. The bulletin became an important source of information, giving its sole author, Eric Huntley, nationwide notoriety.

Demands for better working conditions in British Guiana in the late 1940s and 1950s led to mounting tension in British Guiana with the ruling British. An East Indian-led political party, the People’s Progressive Party (PPP), along with public- and private-sector unions, were becoming increasingly agitated and asserting their role in British Guiana. Eric felt compelled to join in the struggle. He believed in the fair distribution of wealth to allow everyone to fulfil his or her potential and contribute to society to the best of his or her ability. He had found his calling. As his political awareness increased he developed links with the World Federation of Labour and the World Federation of Trade Unions. He joined the World Peace Council (WPC), promoting peace and nuclear disarmament. The love of his life, Jessica Elleisse Carroll, whom he married in 1950, shared many of Eric’s convictions with regard to equality, justice, world peace and fair representation for all.

In 1953 the PPP, under the leadership of Cheddi Jagan, an Indo-Guianese, hard-line Marxist, won the country’s first general election based on universal adult suffrage. Fearing a potential communist takeover of the government, the British government suspended the constitution and declared a state of emergency. British troops were brought in to maintain law and order. Eric, in describing how the British Guianese situation was different from the other colonial governments, said they were told: ‘“You behave yourself, you’re a good boy, you play our game.” We did not. Or at least, they [the British government] didn’t give us time to play the game, I think that’s more like it. We protested against the conviction of the Rosenbergs, we didn’t send a representative to the Queen’s Coronation’.¹

With the suspension of the constitution came a state of emergency in the country. It was illegal for more than three people to congregate on the streets. Travel within the country was prohibited unless permission was granted by the police, emergency government or army. Cautioned not to leave his home, Eric, now working in Soesdyke, did so without seeking permission and was subsequently arrested. He was incarcerated for one year from 1954 to 1955 in the Georgetown prison, where, ironically, his father Frank Huntley was working as a prison warder. Given his occupation, Warder Huntley did not differentiate between convicted felon and political prisoner. Eric, insensitive at the time of his incarceration, reflected many years later what ‘mental torture’ it must have been for his father to have a son in prison.

Upon being released from prison, his first priority was to find work to support his young family. He had difficulty in securing permanent employment. With the political situation between the PPP and the mainly Afro-Guianese party the People’s National Congress (PNC) creating an unstable climate, Eric and Jessica decided it was time for him to leave the country and study overseas. In December 1956 he left British Guiana on a Bookers Ship for Trinidad, where he then boarded the SS Columbia for Southampton, England.

After completing all the necessary formalities at the Port of Southampton, Eric and his fellow passengers boarded a train to London. It was damp, grey and foggy. The wintry temperatures of January 1957 quickly made him realise the inadequacy of his best, ‘wedding’ suit. Donning a warm military jacket and coat given to him by his friend, Rory Westmaas, he then became more prepared for the elements. People were growing used to purchasing essential foodstuffs without the wartime ration cards. His friend and former PPP treasurer, Lionel Jeffrey, took him under his wing and gave him a crash course in how to keep warm, shopping and travelling around London.

Eric missed his wife Jessica and two sons, Karl and Chauncey, tremendously, writing home sometimes several times a week, ‘Dear wife’, ‘Darling Jessica’, ‘My dear Sica’; and to his sons, ‘My two Musketeers, I MISS YOU’. His first job was with British Rail, working at the Stonebridge Park Depot as a shunter. It paid him £12 a week, of which £5 was sent home for Jessica to save towards the passage for her and the two boys. He eventually found a job working for the largest Royal Mail sorting office in London at Mount Pleasant. Not enjoying his job, he viewed it as a way to allow him to make ends meet. He was able to work extremely demanding schedules as well as attend night classes. In April 1958 his wife joined him in London, with the boys following, accompanied by Jessica’s mother, in 1962. With the family together their new life in the UK began in earnest.

Eric and Jessica did not find it easy securing adequate rental accommodation. Eric recalled the tobacconist shop window that would display vacant rental homes. He would check it on Fridays and Saturdays. He says: ‘Invariably I would call and they would say come on and have a look and the moment I arrive, they see me and it had gone’. Additionally, they were up against the aforementioned ‘No coloured, no Irish and no dog’ sign found frequently on property windows. It happened so often that Eric no longer considered it an impingement. They viewed it like ‘water off a duck’s back’. They eventually managed to borrow money privately to purchase their first house. Unfortunately, their living expenses and mortgage became overwhelming, forcing them to surrender the house to the bank.

With regard to employment, Jessica had it worse than Eric. She had several ‘work-related race issues’, one of which led to her being sacked by a regional manager who oversaw one of the shipping-agency offices she worked for. He was unaware there was someone ‘coloured’ working for the company and she was released shortly after he paid her a visit. Eric’s sons were often stopped by the police for no apparent reason. Victims of the Stop and Search Law (SUS), they accepted it as the norm and often failed to tell their parents. Accabre, Eric and Jessica’s only daughter, who was born in London, was a child of the 1970s and by then things were changing for the better.

The loss of their first home forced Eric and Jessica to rent accommodation in the north London home of their Trinidadian friends, John and Irma La Rose. The La Rose household was abuzz with left-wing discussions described by Eric as a ‘university’. British politics fascinated Eric, in particular the discussions that centred on Britain’s relationship with its African and Caribbean subjects. The ‘student Eric’ ended prematurely, with him finding it hard to concentrate on his studies amidst all the politically charged intercourse at the house. Admitting that it was a bad decision to drop his educational plans, personally, politically and intellectually it was a tremendous opportunity for him to grow in other ways.

The historian and Guyanese political activist Walter Rodney partook in many a discussion at the La Rose home while he pursued his postgraduate studies at London University’s School of Oriental and African Studies. Eric’s having met Rodney changed the Huntleys’ whole future. Living in London in the late 1960s was extremely toxic. In spite of the many challenges, racial and otherwise, the Huntley family remained resilient, strong and unified. By embracing the community they were assured that a friend was always close at hand. From the gatherings at the Commonwealth Institute and the many meetings at the West Indian Student Centre in Earl’s Court, they knew that change would only come if the diaspora were to remain together and spoke with one voice. They just happened to be two of the loudest.

Describing himself as a socialist and internationalist, Eric’s life was entwined with that of his wife, Jessica. The legacy of the Huntleys has been permanently stamped on the social-activism map of the UK. From the establishment of their publishing company, Bogle L’Ouventure Publishing, to the opening of the Walter Rodney Bookstore, the community and West Indian diaspora as a whole were so much richer because Eric and Jessica cared. Preserved in the London Metropolitan Archives, the invaluable Huntley Collection is available for anyone wishing to research and refer to it.

When Eric (and Jessica) came to the UK in the 1950s, like countless other black people who arrived with their British passports they were largely focused on earning a living, working hard in the face of discrimination, which they ignored, and on returning home. Eric’s plan was to absorb and use his studies and return home to take care of his family. The Huntleys were among a small group of Black activists who were prepared to set aside their own self-development in exchange for offering support to the community against the racism that was, at that time, so prevalent and vicious in the UK. Going home was no longer an option.

Figure 2. Estelle Joyce Trotman (born in Stanleytown Village, British Guiana, 22 October 1927).

As a child Joyce grew up in Georgetown in religious surroundings, crediting her mother, Diana Elizabeth a.k.a Gertrude Petrie, for teaching both her and her sister Christian love and Christian loyalty. Considering herself a child of the empire, Joyce sang, ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ with passion and much gusto every year on 24 May, Queen Victoria’s birthday. She and her fellow school friends would stream into a local Georgetown cinema, weeks before, rehearsing for the big day. The chorus was her favourite:

She attended the Kingston Methodist School in Georgetown, where she regularly saw (indentured) Indians assembling at a compound adjacent to the school, awaiting passage back to India or to be given a piece of land as an enticement to stay. The adjoining property to this compound was, in later years, turned into a woman’s dormitory for trainee teachers. Although the accommodations were not ‘the best’, this was a significant step forward for the training college as they were now able to attract potential teachers from throughout the country. Joyce was instrumental in establishing this facility. Aspiring to become a teacher, Joyce was offered her initial training at the Government Training College which subsequently led to her being given a Commonwealth (teaching) bursary at the University of Durham in the UK.

In 1955 Joyce and two others from the Government Training College set sail for England from Barbados. ‘A horrible ship’, she said, ‘It took 12 long days’. With regard to the weather, Joyce said that it was extremely cold: ‘I just didn’t realise it could be so cold’. This was the first time she had experienced actual shivering. Greeted at Waterloo Station in London by her friend Viola Burnham (the wife of the future president Forbes Burnham), Joyce was overjoyed to see a familiar face. After spending a few days in the Notting Hill area of London she was Newcastle-bound. On her way there, she recalled on the train journey a man sitting opposite her admiring the way she held a knife and fork. He said to Joyce in a matter of fact way, ‘I didn’t expect people like you to know how to use a knife and fork’. She almost slapped him.

The academic year of 1955 to 1956 began with a wonderful summer. Joyce wore sandals until the end of September. Eventually the weather changed. The east winds kicked in. It was the worst winter since 1947. On several occasions Joyce found herself saying, ‘What the hell am I doing in this country?’. Everyone kept calling her ‘pet’. Often she would hear the locals say, ‘Lovely morning, pet!’. She would look at the overcast sky and say, ‘What’s lovely about it?’. Newcastle was friendly and receptive to Joyce. Their mayor even invited the foreign students to have tea.

Staying at the Methodist International House in Newcastle, she found herself in the middle of an uncomfortable situation. A young, white, English girl staying at the house was ill and had several visitors, one of whom was her black boyfriend from one of the African countries. The manager of the house accused the young English girl of sullying the sanctity of English womanhood. She was told that she had to leave the house, illness notwithstanding. Outraged by this seemingly racist act, Joyce petitioned the fellow residents to have this decision reversed. She was successful, proclaiming that as a Methodist house it was unconscionable for it to act in this way. Joyce believes that they relented because she confronted them by pointing out that if they held fast to that ‘unchristian-like’ principle, the word ‘international’ should be removed from their name.

A New Year ritual of having a ‘dark person’ enter your home to ensure prosperity was attempted while Joyce was in Newcastle. A British family had approached the Methodist International House to see if they could ‘spare’ an African chap to cross their threshold. Needless to say, this request was denied. As a teacher-in-training Joyce was once approached by a five-year-old and asked if she was ‘black all over like a golliwog?’. He wanted to know if she needed to bathe but Joyce assured the youngster that she did bathe and very often.

As a black woman teaching at an all-boys comprehensive school in East London throughout the 1970s and 1980s, Joyce endured much racial abuse, taunting and workplace discrimination. Christmas time was particularly challenging at the school. She would often hear the pupils singing in the corridor when she was in earshot: ‘I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones before the niggers came’. Once being the recipient of the vilest expletives in the midst of a class, Joyce took it in her stride. She tells the story that years later the offending student would say, ‘Miss Trotman was the best teacher I ever had’. Her demeanour and character were often equated to that of Sidney Poitier in the acclaimed 1960s film, To Sir With Love. Joyce took all this in her stride. These were teenagers whom she chose to treat as adults. Never asking for an apology, she adhered to her Christian side by showing them kindness and understanding.

Once her initial training had ended in 1958, Joyce returned to British Guiana to take up a teaching role at an infants’ school. She then taught English at the country’s foremost girls’ school, Bishops’ High School. Joyce and her friend Yvonne Stevenson established the first library at the teacher training college. From the shelves and books to the index cards, this was a major accomplishment. Eventually returning to the UK to further her education and settling in South London, teaching became her life. Along with her Quaker faith she became an integral part of the Guyanese diaspora in London. Her love of words led to the publication in 2006 of the book The Proverbs of Guyana Explained, which is cited as a significant history of the language of Guyana because it exemplifies and preserves the syntactic structure as well as the powerful imagery of Guyanese Creole.

Joyce had always felt she needed to return to Guyana. Returning after her initial training in Newcastle, then going on to Leicester, she always had the desire to ‘give back’. Her completion of a degree at the University of Guyana gave her and her family immense pride.

Family members have played a significant role in Joyce’s life. Nieces, nephews, sister and brother have all looked out for Joyce’s welfare. When a health issue arose and Joyce needed medical attention, her siblings encouraged her to return to the UK. She made a full recovery. She reflected that in the UK she no longer had to worry about locking her gate and staying indoors all the time, as she had to do in Guyana. This was not the life she wanted to live. She felt she had to leave Guyana for good, declaring that she is a Guyanese, British and both, but first and foremost a child of God.

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1 Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were American citizens who spied on behalf of the Soviet Union and were tried, convicted and executed by the federal government of the United States.

2 ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ (1902), music by Edward Elgar; lyrics by A. C. Benson.