The Mind of the Individual: My Autobiography

by Beverly Cuffy

Overview

In early 2006 after a visit to Canada to visit my sisters, I came back to England alert, confident, and able to once again reclaim my independence. … I didn’t know, but apparently it was common knowledge that a key to my house had been found. Or at least that is what was claimed. It had apparently been lost in the street.

I awoke one night; I had not locked the bedroom door, and there was a man standing in the room, a candle in his hand. He was standing about eight feet away, just watching me. I was terrified and realised I had to keep totally still. He knew he had woken me though and said, “I’m not going to hurt you; go back to sleep”. My subconscious must have recognised the voice and trusted the person because I did go back to sleep. Thereafter I ensured the bedroom door was locked.

This and other instances make me realise how vulnerable I was to rape, abuse, or being murdered in the house where I lived. I later learned that the neighbours would enter my house; either by climbing in through the window or using the key which they had found.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781462062232
Publisher:	iUniverse, Incorporated
Publication date:	11/14/2011
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	152
File size:	185 KB

Read an Excerpt

The Mind of the Individual

My Autobiography

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By Beverly Cuffy

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Beverly Cuffy
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-6222-5

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Chapter One

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Monday 15th August 2011

Robert L Bradshaw Airport St Kitts,

LIAT the airline used in the Caribbean is late. I awoke early to catch the flight which should have left the island at 8.30 am. It's now 11.00 am and they have just announced that the plane is going to be late, perhaps leaving the island at 11.40 or thereabouts. St Kitts and Nevis like most of the islands in the Caribbean is quite beautiful and full of white sandy beaches. It is currently being developed and some of the homes when completed will be both beautiful and costly. The family house is on the island and I've checked that any outstanding bills are paid. It's a sunny day with a light zephyr wafting over us. The AC isn't turned on, and as the few early morning passengers gradually begin to increase, the sound of voices and background music can be heard more audibly and distinctly. This was a short visit, only ten days to transact my business. As the plane was late I thought this seemed as good a time as any to begin my autobiography. I am on my way to Tortola, BVI in search of a place to settle and call home.

It's been well documented that writing about one's self can be therapeutic, either that or very narcissistic. I am not anyone famous, so why should I write about my life, well amidst the gossip, and stories made up about me, I felt it was important for posterity that an accurate interpretation of the happenings in my life are available, should anyone ever want another perspective.

It was instilled in us from childhood, my siblings and I, that in order to be successful in life you needed to study hard. My parents like many first generation West Indian immigrants placed an enormous amount of importance in education. I was taught to believe that once you achieved or attained academic status you could do whatever you chose. As I grew older I learned this was not always the case. There are those who always need to be in control; and those who feel the need to assert power. I see this as insecurity in their own lives; this need to control or appear to control has to be a lack of something in themselves or their lives.

I suppose I am something of an observer of other people and their lives. They are certainly very keen to gossip and repeat what they think they know about mine. Perhaps I should start at the beginning, where exactly is that? Well I suppose it began with my birth. This is not a fairy story it's a true story, one which I hope you enjoy reading.

I was born on the 5th January 1955 at Lagos Hospital, Oranjestad, Aruba, and later christened Beverly Veronica Cuffy. My parents were Harold Caulton Ethan Cuffy, who was born on the 31st August 1922 and died on 19th January 1985. My mother was Eileen Veronica Cuffy (nee Williams) who was born on 4th March 1922 and who sadly left us on 10th November 1993. My father was born in Georgetown, St Vincent and my mother was born in Basseterre, St Kitts. My parents met and married in Aruba, where they had both emigrated in order to enhance their economic prospects. I was a bold child and remember my mother proudly discussing a recitation I gave at the tender age of 3 years. She said I spoke in a loud, booming voice; I was a very confident child.

I am the fourth child of Harold and Eileen and the fairest in terms of skin colouring. This led to a friend and neighbour ascribing me as the child of the local fisherman, who was called 'Stones'. He would forcibly argue, if with a lot of laughter and amusement that my father had been duped. Essentially the jest would be similar to the English joke that the child belonged to the milkman.

I attended the local nursery school and enjoyed learning. I also enjoyed playing in the red dirt as a child. I have several early childhood memories one of which is attending school with my older sister. It was a Christmas party, and surprisingly they had a Santa Claus who kept throwing sweets into the crowd of children. I was very young, perhaps three or four years old, and couldn't seem to catch any. I remember being quite upset by this, and to console me my sister gave me some of hers. I have four sisters and one brother. In addition I have one half-sister, and two half-brothers. Both of my half-brothers died of cancer and so in 2011 I have five sisters and one brother.

We immigrated to England from Aruba in 1960, and initially rented a few rooms from a lady from the Caribbean. A few months later my parents bought their own house, 11A Avenue Crescent, Leeds 8. This is the home that I grew up in amidst some poverty, much fun and a great deal of love. I attended Cowper Street Primary School from the age of five to eleven years. I have a childhood memory of walking home from primary school holding hands with a little girl in my class. I don't remember her name, but I remember I wanted to go to her house to play so I had to go home first and get my mother's permission. This child left school a few years later to go and live on a farm in Yorkshire. I always wonder what happened to her.

I also remember walking home from primary school with a relative and playing blind man's bluff. I led her safely and carefully when it was my turn; but when it was her turn, she led me straight into a lamp-post. This was to prove significant in later life, as she led me into several lamp-posts, metaphorically speaking, as we got older. In fact it might be argued that the term lamp-post became a symbol for the deceitful and manipulative things which occurred.

After primary school I attended Scott hall Secondary Modern School, in Leeds. I have fond memories of the teachers and the many friends who also attended the school. It was at this school that I developed a passion for lawn tennis, primarily because the gym teacher was very keen on the sport, and encouraged her classes during Wimbledon to sit in the hall and watch the tournament. To this day I really enjoy the sport, although I do not play, I am a fan of many of the greats such as Arthur Ashe, John McEnroe and more recently the Williams sisters. Although there was some attempt to teach us French, I never quite mastered it, but have always wanted to learn another language so recently took up Spanish.

My wish to acquire another language stems from my father who would speak to us in a Papiamento, a broken Spanish. "Do it properly" he would say, "Poco Lia" as he showed me how to develop good penmanship or helped with some aspect of my homework. I have very fond memories of my father who I believe was an honourable man. He was a loving man and a good father.

My father worked in a factory in Leeds. As a first generation immigrant he was not afforded all the opportunities that his education could have bestowed. His priorities with regards to money were not as they should have been either, as he should have brought his wage packet home and not spent it gambling. Nevertheless he made it up to my siblings and I in other ways.

One specific memory I have is that he would ensure that all of his children who were eligible attended his works outings. His employers had an outing for their employees every Christmas, and I remember going to several pantomimes and having a great feast afterwards. All the children were then given presents.

Dad was a man of few words, but a loving and affectionate man. I remember as a teenager putting make up on him when he fell asleep in the chair and painting his finger nails with nail polish. All to great amusement when he awoke and looked in the mirror.

I was very proud to go shopping with him, and vividly remember he bought me my first hot pants suit. In addition he always bought beautiful and thoughtful birthday cards, some of which I have kept to this day.

One day when I was about seventeen years old my father came into my room and said something to me, but I couldn't understand a word he was saying. "What's that Dad?" I asked. He repeated it, and it sounded like gobbly dee gook. (Later I learned he was trying to say something to the effect that he had gone to the bank, but 'can't seem to get my words right.') At first my sister and I thought it was funny, but then realised something was wrong and phoned my mother at work.

When my mother came home my father was taken to hospital. He had suffered his first stroke. Over the years he was to suffer a great deal of frustration, as an intelligent man it must have been very difficult not to be able to express himself in his usual articulate way. I look like my Dad, that is one of my sister's and I look like our Dad; we both have his nose and lips. I also look very much like one of my father's sisters. Harold Cuffy will always be remembered with a lot of love and some sadness.

My parents were not too religious, however they both believed in God, and as children we were sent to Sunday school on a regular basis. We were taught the bible and took part in church events, this included going to Skegness as part of a church outing. Later when we became teenagers we attended the church youth club.

I grew up as part of an extended family of people from Aruba who were living in Leeds. These were friends of my parents and became the aunts and uncles who I only knew in later life. As a child these were the ones who participated in nurturing and encouraging. Many have since passed on but their memories are precious and their views and beliefs very much a part of my identity.

I left school at the age of fifteen, which was the norm in the early seventies. There was a possibility of staying on to take either CSE's or GCE's depending on which school you attended, but most of the immigrant children in my school year were encouraged to leave the school and find work in a factory. I was fortunate as my parent's realised I was quite clever, and were keen for me to continue my education even if I did not stay on at school to take my GCE's. I was given several choices and opted to take a secretarial course and study for my GCE 'O' and GCE 'A' levels at the same time. I was quite successful in this chosen course and at eighteen went to work for Barclays Bank.

I was a fun loving teenager, with many friends both girls and boys and we socialized at the local clubs and often went to 'Blues'. Blues for those of you who are not in the know is a party where you paid for your drinks, and sometimes for entry into the party. It was the time of Jim Reeves, of reggae music with artists such as Desmond Decker, bell bottom trousers, skinny rib tops and platform shoes.

Growing up in Leeds during the seventies was exciting and interesting. It was a period when black culture was shaping itself taking much of its ideas from North America, but also developing its own. I recall going to see a popular film at the time which starred Jimmy Cliff and was entitled 'The Harder They Come,' which reinforced my identity as a black person. There were few black role models in the media, and very few television programmes with black actors. It was a time when Mohammed Ali, then Cassius Clay was considered too forthright, and proud. A black man who was in touch with his identity, a heavy weight boxer who was world champion and obviously very proud of his race.

We lived quite close the Potternewton Park in Leeds which borders Harehills and Chapeltown. Many of the dances and parties which we attended were in Chapeltown, although we also went to dances in other towns such as Huddersfield. Around 1974/1975 there began a series of attacks on prostitutes, in an around North Yorkshire. The reign of terror by Peter Sutcliffe, also known as the Yorkshire Ripper had begun. I mention it because as a young woman coming home in the early morning from a party or blues, occasionally on my own, it was a dangerous thing to do. I was living in dangerous times, because If I had been mistaken for a prostitute, I believe he made several mistakes when choosing his victims there was a possibility of being attacked.

Peter Sutcliffe murdered thirteen women and attempted to kill others in his reign of terror in North Yorkshire, England. He is said to have sent tapes and letters to the police going so far as to sign them Jack the Ripper. The analogy between his crimes and that of the ripper in Victorian Society were essentially very similar. He used a hammer to knock his victims out and then used instruments of torture on them. Like the original ripper he committed the most gruesome acts on those who he maimed and killed. He was finally caught some ten years later and institutionalized at Broadmoor, a high-security psychiatric hospital in Berkshire, England.

I left Leeds when I was twenty one years of age and moved to London, where I worked for the National Westminster Bank. I left the bank in 1981 to return to full time study and undertook a BA Hons in English and subsequently a PGCE in teacher training. I studied and received an MA Degree in Cultural Studies in 1995. In my first teaching post I was a course tutor to young people who were disaffected with the traditional curriculum, and who were essentially disinterested in education. The schooling system of the mid 80s had failed them, and it was for post 16 educators to try to re-engage them in the educational process. To some extent I felt an empathy with these young people, as some of their experiences could be juxtaposed with my own.

As an educator I was encouraged to teach about topical subject areas to encourage the learner to participate in the learning process and make it more relevant to their lives. The topic of HIV and AIDS was very topical during this time and as part of my role I encouraged these young people to take responsibility for their sexual health. There were many rumours and much speculation about the origin of the disease. One is that it originated in Africa and another that it was created as a weapon. In today's society the disease is more or less under control and there seems less prejudice against those who are infected. I have retained an affection for my first students, and often wonder where they are and how they fared after leaving college.

During the mid-eighties I worked in a full time capacity as a lecturer up until the mid-nineties when I changed to becoming a part-time lecturer. I also became involved in other activities such as running an educational charity. I enjoyed teaching English Literature, although at times my experiences were similar to the hero of the novel Wilt by Tom Sharpe.

It was sometimes difficult to motivate disinterested students who were simply re-taking their GCSE's because they needed the subject to take the course in which they were really interested.

"In the novel Wilt, the eponymous hero of the novel, Henry Wilt is a demoralized and professionally under-rated assistant lecturer who teaches literature to uninterested construction apprentices at a community college in the south of England. It is his exploits and assessment of his students and his own life which provides the hilarious comedy which is expressed throughout the novel."

I enjoyed working with the students, and while ploughing through Macbeth at times proved difficult I felt a great sense of satisfaction when the students achieved the required grades. As well as part-time teaching in English and Business Studies, I ran an educational charity which was founded and developed in order to raise the achievement and educational potential of young people in the local area. It was time consuming and hard work and involved gaining funding to ensure its continuance. We were fairly fortunate in getting funds from the national lottery. Although there was a committee it really was a one woman show. Two of my sisters and a cousin (who took over as chairperson when I resigned) had initially been supportive, but also had full time jobs. My role as a director and founder of the charity was interesting and diverse, and I excelled in this particular field. I suppose like my late uncle I am something of a human rights campaigner, and the charity allowed me to support disadvantaged children. In addition we ran a summer and Saturday school to encourage academic excellence for all young people.

The year 1990 began with fresh hope as we witnessed Nelson Mandela, anti-apartheid activist, who had been imprisoned for 27 years being released from prison in February of that year. Nelson Mandela later became president of South Africa a wise and humble man who for me was an inspiration and a role model. There were many significant and personal events which took place during this decade including the then president of America, Bill Clinton almost being impeached for lying about a scandal in which he was involved. It was also when I learned that a relative had published a short story which damaged my father's reputation.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from The Mind of the Individual by Beverly Cuffy Copyright © 2011 by Beverly Cuffy. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents

Contents

Dedication....................v
Preface....................ix
Acknowledgments....................xi
Introduction....................xiii
Chapter One About the Author / My identity and how it has been shaped....................1
Chapter Two Psychological Phenomenon/ A discussion about abuse in general and more specifically its impact in my life....................21
Chapter Three Maestro and the early 70s / A discussion about relationships and Infidelity....................35
Chapter Four Dysfunctional relationships / Faith and the distresses which needed to be healed....................51
Chapter Five My Siblings / A brief glance at my relationship with my siblings....................63
Chapter Six Up to date (2009-2011)/ Escaping re-possession....................79
Author's Notes....................95