Xystus writes of ‘not bearing grudges’, ‘because ultimately God is good’. Photo: Detail of book cover of My Life Story: A Child Of The Windrush Generation, by Xystus Sestus Marcell
My Life Story: A Child Of The Windrush Generation, by Xystus Sestus Marcell
Author: Xystus Sestus Marcell. Review by Anne M Jones
This small book tells the story, in his own words, of a man who came to the east end of London from St Lucia, in 1972. Xystus Sestus Marcel’s name refers to the book of Exodus, a reminder of enslaved people coming into emancipation. He was fourteen when he arrived, full of hopes about ‘the mother country’.
These hopes were to be bitterly confronted with blatant racism. Xystus also encountered problems within his family. He had been raised by his grandmother after his parents left for the UK on the Windrush. Consequently the attachment to his own mother was lost by the time they were reunited.
Life in rural St Lucia was simple, collecting fruit and vegetables from the fields, catching wildfowl, and attending church – Roman Catholic – on a Sunday. Discipline at home was strict, with regular beatings from granny, which Xystus never resented because he thought he had brought them upon himself. Importantly, these were administered out of love – but beatings were the norm everywhere, he says, ‘a legacy of the days of slavery’. Xystus writes of his grandmother ‘she beat me from love, not spite, and I remain devoted to her to this day… the beatings my mother gave me were different, there was no love there, and I could not understand… later I came to see how unhappy and frustrated she was in her own life’. For all this, however, Xystus writes of ‘not bearing grudges’, ‘because ultimately God is good’.
School days were marred by the demands of adjusting to the new environment and problems with reading. Xystus was unaware of his dyslexia – teachers thought he was plain lazy. There were beatings in school as well (it is painful to remember that corporal punishment was acceptable so recently). At the same time, benevolence and help came from surprising places: in the street and within the school, from the head who thrashed him one day and gave him a leading role in the school play the next, and from a teacher who offered herself as a foster carer when home life became intolerable. The years that followed were ones of survival: business ventures that succeeded one minute, and failed the next. Xystus ended up homeless and very ill. Help came through a charity for the homeless, to which he remains deeply grateful.
Running through the account is a thread of loving kindness towards his fellow humans, and an inner wisdom nurtured through Roman Catholic faith and Rastafarianism. Xystus never raised his hand to his own children, understanding instinctively that supporting and listening to them is the most important part of parenting.
This book is deeply moving, showing courage and strength of mind against all the odds. Xystus concludes that: ‘Things balance out in life. I have had badness but through it I have gained self-value and have passed that on to my children.’
The book can be obtained from Anne M Jones for £7, with profits to the homeless charity Crisis. Email anne.150@phonecoop.coop.
