A Jamaican Experience: The Quiet Architects of My Life: A Tribute to Four Role Models
By: Baron Stewart
Introduction: The People Who Shape the Journey
We often think of role models as celebrities, public figures, or pioneers who changed the world on a grand scale. But for me, the people who inspired the deepest change—the ones who altered my direction and expanded my imagination—were not famous. They were real, present, and consistent.
They were the kind of people who offered guidance not through speeches, but through how they lived. People who didn’t talk about success—they modeled it in the quiet, powerful choices they made every day.
In my journey toward a satisfying life, four individuals stand out as cornerstones of character, vision, and grace: Kenneth Rodger, Cherry McLean, Althea Young, and Cipe Burtin. Each one taught me something irreplaceable. And each one left a mark that continues to shape how I live, love, teach, and grow.
Kenneth Rodger: Strength in Humility
My first memory is of a storm.
It was 1951, and Hurricane Charley had ravaged Jamaica. Water poured into our home like the sky itself had cracked open. My mother, Griselda Appleby, looked around for the only dry space left and said, “Put the baby on the bureau.” That baby was me—just four years old. The man she was speaking to was Keneth Rodger, known to me as cousin Keneth.
But Kenneth was more than that.
He was the young man my mother had raised after his mother, in her dying days, had begged Griselda to look after him. The irony—and perhaps the quiet tragedy—was that she spent more time raising Keneth than she did raising me. And yet, through that complex dynamic, something remarkable grew: a lifelong bond with a man who would become one of my life's most important role models.
Kenneth didn’t have an impressive résumé or a spotlight on his path.
He began as a farm worker in Florida. Then, he was a “go-for” in a ship's engine room—just another cog in the underbelly of international travel. But with perseverance and a deep sense of purpose, Kenneth turned that humble beginning into something genuinely admirable. He got a job at the Con Edison power plant on 14th Street in New York and stayed there until retirement.
But what Keneth did with what little he had—that’s what shaped me.
He saved. He planned. He bought three brownstone apartment buildings, side by side, on Watson Avenue in the Bronx. He became a man who offered shelter—not only to tenants but to family. When I couldn’t provide a home for my mother, he did.
Keneth Rodger never spoke of sacrifice. He lived it.
He never asked for admiration. But he earned it.
He gave me his time and his example. In a world where the loudest people often get the most attention, he showed me that real power lives in constancy, humility, and care.
Cherry McLean: The Power of Focused Ambition
Some people change your life with what they do.
Cherry McLean changed mine with who she was.
She was the daughter of a friend of my mother—uneducated by society’s standards, like Keneth—but brimming with something far rarer: ambition paired with fearlessness. Cherry had a strong presence, a voice that filled a room, and a mind always looking for the next opportunity.
She had a daughter, Mellody, from a previous relationship, before marrying Roy—a handsome American with hands that could reimagine torn upholstery into something sleek and new. Roy had the skill. Cherry had the vision. Together, they created not just a business but a future.
Their journey started modestly in the Bronx across the street from where my mother lived. I spent many afternoons soaking up their energy, their partnership, and their belief in something better. Then they moved to Florida, where they built a thriving auto seat repair business—so successful that they were able to buy multiple homes. They were the ones who encouraged my mother to move to Florida, a move that became possible when I bought her a home there.
What Cherry taught me couldn’t be found in books.
She taught me that ambition isn’t just about wanting more. It’s about focusing your energy like a light on something you can build. She showed me that partnership works best when one person dreams and the other does—and that fearlessness is a form of intelligence.
Cherry McLean was more than a friend of the family.
She was a blueprint for what’s possible when you refuse to be defined by what you don’t have.
Althea Young: Seeing the World Through a New Lens
Some role models teach with words.
Others teach by how they live.
Althea Young was my mathematics teacher at Kingston College, and in many ways, she opened my eyes to numbers and possibility. She didn’t just solve equations; she expanded the equation of what life could be.
She married David Young, a kind Englishman, and they had two children, Duncan and Sarah. It was the first time I saw someone like her—Jamaican, grounded, proud—create a life with someone so different from herself. That was her first quiet lesson: you can love—and live—with someone whose world doesn’t look like yours.
I did just that. I married Berkeley, someone as different from me as anyone could imagine. She had studied in England and traveled the world, including Brazil. Like Althea, I found myself drawn to people, places, and ideas far beyond my starting point. I studied in America and have walked the streets of many countries since.
But the similarities run deeper still. Althea taught math—so do I—but she also ran a Dojo for children in her community in Jacks Hill, planting seeds of discipline, courage, and inner strength. I didn’t run a dojo, but for years, I coached young footballers in Whittier, California. It's a different field, but the goal is the same: build young people from the inside out.
On one of my visits to Jamaica, Althea invited me to speak to the children in her dojo. I told them, “If you listen to Althea, and you trust her guidance, you will go further than you think. I did.” It wasn’t just encouragement—it was truth.
Althea Young reminded me—through her life, her marriage, her classroom, and her dojo—that the world is vast and that we are allowed to step boldly into it.
Cipe Burtin: The Finishing School Called Life
Every so often, someone enters your life who elevates not just your opportunities but your sensibilities.
For me, that person was Cipe Burtin.
I lived with Cipe for nearly ten years in her beautiful home on Filors Lane in Stony Point, New York. It wasn’t just a house. It was a school—my finishing school—a place where edges were softened, ideas were sharpened, and identity was given room to unfold.
Cipe taught me how to cook—not just to eat but to savor.
She introduced me to wine and dry vermouth, not for the drink, but for the ritual.
She taught me how to move through a room filled with educated, opinionated, influential people—and never feel small.
She opened my eyes to art—not only on canvas but in the art of living well.
But her most lasting gift was this: travel.
She said: “Live in my house and see the world.”
And so I did.
Because of Cipe, I began to see the world not just as a collection of places but as a mosaic of lives, ideas, flavors, and possibilities. She taught me that elegance has nothing to do with money and everything to do with curiosity, confidence, and grace.
In a world full of fast advice and self-help slogans, Cipe’s guidance was lived, not preached. She gave me her home, her trust, and her permission to grow.
Closing: Carried Forward
What all four of these people shared—despite differences in background, gender, culture, or profession—was a rare kind of integrity. They lived what they believed. They didn’t ask for praise. They gave. They built. They endured.
Because of them, I understood what was possible:
That a farm worker could own homes.
That a woman with no diploma could build a business empire.
That a math teacher could open the door to the world.
That elegance, generosity, and intellectual confidence could be passed on—not through lecture, but through presence.
I am who I am not because of what I achieved but because of who I watched.
In honoring these four, I also honor every quiet mentor and uncelebrated hero who changes the world one life at a time.
Reflections for the Reader
Here are five things I encourage you to consider as you reflect on the role models in your own life:
Look Beyond Fame—Find Your Real Role Models
The most potent influences may not be celebrities but the quiet, steadfast people already around you. Pay attention. Who teaches you by example, not just by words?Let People Inspire You in Different Ways
Some people teach you how to endure; others teach you how to build, dream, or lead. Let yourself be shaped by many types of guidance.Reflect on the Legacy You’re Building
As someone was to you, so you can be to others. Your life is part of someone else's foundation.Embrace Your Own Story of Growth
You may already be walking the path that someone once showed you. Celebrate that progress. Honor that lineage.Say Thank You—While You Still Can
If someone helped shape you, could you tell them? And if they’ve passed on, keep their story alive. Gratitude is one of the deepest honors we can offer.
These lessons are not just mine—they are gifts passed on to all of us. And maybe, just maybe, someone is watching you now and quietly learning how to live.