HORROR IN CANADA

by Ava Harriott, Words for Women, YWCA

Ava Cries! Wish she could live all over again!!!

I grew up in Ghetto of Kingston and St. Andrew's hills in Jamaica, with my parents, my brothers and my sisters. My childhood always brings back good memories because it was an important time in my life. My father, Percival Harriott, operated a Checker Cab taxi business in Kingston for over forty years. He is a native of Comfort Hall, Manchester. My father has a lot of relatives in Manchester and St. Elizabeth. While we were all living in Kingston as small children, he would take us and my mother to the driving theatre, circus, Port Royal, and other historical places.

During the 1970s, he moved all his family to St. Andrew's Hills because of violence in the Kingston communities. Our family had a hard time making ends meet. I was only baptized at the age of 13, in the Church of God of Prophecy Church, Parks Road. In church I learned the truth about the word of God, which applied principles to my life. I gradually came to understand the Kingdom of God, the Holy Ghost, the angels, and the prophecies!!!

My father’s attitude changed towards the family drastically because he left us without notice, and married another woman. Things around us deteriorated in a significant way and the Harriott family was destroyed permanently.

My mother, Cerelia Roberts, developed a chronic mental illness that had no cure. I became the immediate bread winner of the household and contributed to the family. I took care of my brothers and sisters and I washed dishes. During this time I was mixed up emotionally. I was miserable and depressed. I took on a lot of duties and responsibilities willingly, because I was the eldest child!!

Since I was not involved in the community, I have no specific consciousness attachment to the cultural well being of my place of birth!! The only language that I learnt was English. When I lived in Jamaica I had a hard time adapting to cultures as I did in Canada when I first migrated here. My parents did not practise any of our Jamaican values or traditions or other cultures. I was treated terribly because I was not aware of my own background. I had another major issue that I had to confront which was monetary income.

Travelling to Canada very young and alone in the 1980s was a very big disappointment and a horrible experience.

Things were not looking in my favour. There was a lack of support from individuals and groups so I had to take social assistance, and I visited a few food depots for needy families, I also visited Chez Doris (a women’s center), I worked in several homes as a cleaner, and a caregiver. I decided to go to school and get some financial aid from the government for adult education.

I studied full-time secretarial work at CDEC Adult Education Business School in LaSalle, Montreal. I continued my schooling in a different department and received training in nursing care at Riverside Technology High School, and James Lyng Adult Education Centre Quebec, government schools.

CONFLICT IN SCHOOL

While attending school at James Lyng Adult Education Centre, I experienced a lot of hostility among the Jamaican students. There were social problems in some classes, such as bad disciplinary behaviours at school. There were students and people in the community who spread terrible rumours from within the Caribbean communities. In spite of what happened, I continued my schooling at James Lyng Adult Education Centre. I avoided skipping classes. My ability to learn and my enthusiasm to finish high school and attain my diploma came with ease due to my motivation and perseverance.

The municipality and the police were unjust and careless because my problems were never resolved. I was a victim of resentment and exclusion during my student years. I felt alone and hopeless.

SUICIDE

My eldest son Corey at the age of 25 passed away on the day of St Jean de Baptist, in 2003. He had killed himself at home. As of that moment, I lost a lot of faith, strength, and insecurity and my abilities got hurt. This had torn up my inner strength. I suffered panic attacks for which I had to visit my family physician, Doctor Nelson Ubani on several occasions. One of my most traumatic experiences was kidney problems. At every chance I got to use the washroom, I utilized it. My system processed liquid faster during the winter season. I was constantly thirsty. I worried about my surviving teenage son Kamal, who is an amateur boxer, he is a distant formation scholar, and he is very ambitious.

Corey did not have friends. He was a shy kid, a good son at home. He read various magazines, news papers and watched television. He loved his computer, and his games that went along with it such as; Nintendo, Super Mario Bros, and etc. Unfortunately, Corey did not look like the type to commit suicide. There were no warnings, and no signs. This event was an unfortunate way to die.

I am a member of the Compassionate Friends and the Survivors of Suicide Support Group Chapter here in Montreal, Canada. Who share their pain and sorrow, give me hope, and taught me about survival. TCF help families find ways to cope, stand beside those who suffer, and help them carry on, even when others find it hard to bear their grief. Hebrew 13:16 states: “But do not forget to do well and to share, for with such sacrifices God is well pleased.”