My writing tells my immigrant story and recalls the pivotal moments of my life. I mostly write essays in the creative nonfiction genre. My work has been sometimes described as long winded, a weakness I continue to work to improve. 
I hope you will enjoy this selection.


Except By Fasting and Prayer

Prayer is to faith like water to plants. It nourishes the roots—our souls. Prayer prevents the drying up of our faith. Fasting is the fertilizer for an extra boost. We nourish our faith through prayer and fasting.

Desk with Book


September 2020

The essay, "Unmooring," appeared in the anthology by Kaleidoscope WoJo™, Reflections of Women's Journeys - In My Shoes.  


"When I grew up, the absence of a mother or father in the home was common in Jamaica. This was the time when Britain's enormous postwar need for workers offered expansive opportunities to its colonial citizens to travel to England, uninhibited by visas and other immigration restrictions."

Notebook and Pen


March 2021

Published by Landslidelit at Medium.com 


"Most Americans...live in places they can choose to remain despite a declining economy, drug epidemic, and political tension. Most still live in homogeneous communities and enclaves. When outsiders begin to flow in, many are frightened, or politicians incite them to fear. Exaggerations and a deliberate intent to dehumanize the poor, especially brown immigrants, have heightened the fright. But a closer understanding of immigrants, their motivation, and their drive might reveal remarkable resilience and a hope that does not die."

Image by Jon Tyson


Photo Series--Bridges

I took my first photograph of a bridge on the road trip with my daughter to visit colleges 25 years ago. Somehow, I misunderstood how most parts of the United States are surrounded by water, even in seemingly landlocked states.

Unlike my island home, where everyone practically lives next to the sea and where the rivers are small, everyone in America does not live near a river or lake. But rivers and lakes in the U.S. are like the size of a sea. And everywhere, there are bridges in sizes that do not exist in Jamaica. On that trip, I discovered there were massive bridges to get across those bodies of water. 

Gripping my steering wheel till I saw circles of blood in my palms and teeth clenched, I rangled my passengers into complete silence. My anxiety surged like the bay as we drove through the water tunnels of the Chesapeake Bay.  Under the bay then over, and under, again and again.   

These photos are a sample from my collection of bridges.

Coming Soon
Image by Jon Tyson


February 2022

The yellow dress she sent from America was the most exquisite thing I had ever seen. It was not dowdy and stoic like the pink linen suit and brown plaid skirt with accordion pleats my mother had sent me from London. This dress was dream-like and yellow like the pale sun. No fussy laciness, made of the finest delicate cotton, with the crinoline sewn into the skirt. Not the kind of crinoline made from that membranous material, fishnet-like, that when laundered became itchy from heavy starch.