‘We had not lost knowledge of our African heritage. We emerged the richer.’
The life and soul of the party: Joyce Trotman celebrates the Windrush generation
‘It was almost sacramental.’
Seventy five years ago – 21 June, 1948 – about a thousand passengers stepped off HMT Empire Windrush onto Tilbury Docks. The majority, 802 people, were from the Caribbean, most of those (539) from Jamaica specifically. They had come at the invitation of the British government to help in the regeneration of the country after the disasters of the second world war. They were not immigrants as we might understand the term today, but British citizens, holding valid British passports and entitled to the rights and privileges of the new British Nationality Act. As loyal subjects they had come to the assistance of the ‘mother country’.
The reaction of many British white citizens to these British black citizens is now well reported: racism; poor housing; lack of welcome in churches; attacks both physical and verbal; police brutality; and other forms of prejudice – up to and including the recent Windrush Scandal, in which members of the Windrush generation were wrongly detained, denied legal rights, and in at least eighty-three cases even deported from the UK.
The difficulties encountered are one side of the picture. But alongside this is a lack of recognition of the contribution made by this generation to this country. With the anniversary in the calendar, where were the celebrations?
It was with this in mind that I attended Meeting for Worship on 25 June, 2023. As I sat in contemplation I could not help turning over in my mind the situation. Most of the nurses who had come to the UK would have had basic elementary education. Some, like my sister, perhaps a Cambridge School Certificate. Some of the men would have been skilled craftsmen. Some, like the parents of Valerie Amos, the baroness of Brondesbury, were teachers. Eric and Jessica Huntley, with no secondary education, became two of the foremost publishers of the works of black writers.
All of these people would have been descendants of the survivors of chattel slavery – or, like Shridath Ramphal, the former secretary-general of the British Commonwealth, a descendant of the indentured labourers brought from India to labour on the plantations that Africans had vacated following the abolition of chattel slavery.
The men who arrived on the Windrush were, on the whole, well dressed. Some were in well-tailored suits, many in collar and tie – all very English. They were articulate and had a good command of English. I thought myself – brown of skin, a descendant of Ben Conright, who survived chattel slavery – as English as my white Friends, for I had had a very, very English education.
The abolition of chattel slavery was followed by a period of apprenticeship, which was itself followed by British rule of the Caribbean territories. There was a white governor at the top, assisted by a white colonial secretary, and a locally-trained civil service for administration. The churches of various denominations, led mainly by white pastors, were in charge of the education of the local people, who were descendants of the survivors of chattel slavery and of indentured labourers.
The unintended result of all this was the emergence of a very well-educated local population. Even before this, enslaved Africans had been taught to read and write by missionaries, their only textbook being the Bible. (This education perhaps explains the 1823 uprising in British Guiana.) All education was in English, using English textbooks, and English was the official language across the British-governed Caribbean. So in England the new arrivals could cope. Most of the prime ministers of the conquered, but now independent, territories, had attended English mission schools, colleges and universities, and had learned their craft as from the horse’s mouth. In many cases, we bettered the example. In addition, we had not lost knowledge of our African heritage. We emerged the richer. For me this was a blessing.
As I sat in Meeting I remembered few lines from an Aled Jones song ‘Count your blessings one by one’: ‘The big or small, whichever comes your way.’ Ours had come by a rather circuitous and often tortuous route; though unintended, it was a blessing all the same. As I thought of this, I was on my feet before I knew it. In my ministry I gave thanks, ending with the singing of the song.
Talk about unintended consequences! As a result of the ministry, the Spirit led us to hold a Quaker Windrush Tea Party on Saturday, 5 August. My friends and members of my family were invited. As I watched them arrive, I was moved by the kind and loving way in which my Quaker family welcomed them. As the afternoon progressed I could see several ‘getting to know you’ sessions as hosts and visitors talked to one another over cups of tea and plates of sandwiches. It was almost sacramental.
Blessings were written on three cards. ‘One card is not enough’ wrote our Cathy on one of them. When we were gathered afterwards in the Meeting room, more blessings were showered on me vocally, topped by a harmonica rendition of the Flanagan & Allen song ‘The Umbrella Man’, played by my nephew Ian Tyson. Saturday was a kind of ‘after the sun the rain, after the rain the sun’ kind of day and I thought, ‘No matter, there is always the Umbrella Man’.
As I listened I had an all-over feeling of thankfulness to God for all his benefits. I had settled in Croydon as a card-carrying Methodist; was it a blessing that I should become a Quaker? There were no Quakers in British Guiana, where I grew up. That was the one Christian denomination that was missing. God moves in a mysterious way.
Towards the end of the day there was a kind of Quaker quiet, as if we were content that all had gone well. Then we relaxed for family photographs, a friendly parting of the ways, and the clearing up. I overheard one Friend remark that it was the best Meeting for Worship that he had ever attended – albeit a ‘programmed’ one.
As I recall the day, it seems to me that a long journey – which started with the Petition Against Slavery that Francis Daniel Pastorius and three other Quakers presented to the Germantown Quaker Meeting in 1688 – after passing many milestones, found its destination at Croydon Quaker Meeting House, England, on 5 August, 2023.
To my F/friends of Croydon Quaker Meeting, massive thanks. And, like Amna, my dear departed friend and sister, of loving memory, who took it to the highest degree of comparison, I say: ‘Plentiest Love’.
Comments
Thank you so much, Joyce, for this immensely moving story. This is how Black History should be celebrated!
By grahamtaylor on 12th October 2023 - 9:32
So good to hear from you, Joyce. It was only recently that I learnt about Churchill begging people not to leave the UK in droves, after World War II. For me, your article helps to add another missing piece to the jigsaw. In friendship, Richard (Chris and Matt’s dad)
By RichardAlton on 15th October 2023 - 9:25
Thank you Joyce. What a beautiful piece of writing. I am so glad that life is good for you. I hold you in the Light.
By Diana&John; on 19th October 2023 - 2:31
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