Jamaican Experiences

In the late 1970s, a young Jamaican man working at IBM in Westchester found joy and belonging in the reggae rhythms of Chesters, a humble bar near Stony Brook, Long Island. Amid the music and sweat-soaked Thursday nights, he formed deep bonds—with dancers, musicians, and a magnetic teacher named Joanne. Their love danced delicately across racial boundaries, challenged by Joanne’s German father—until an unexpected acceptance cracked open new possibility. Over time, the friendships forged at Chesters became family. Though the music faded, its legacy endured. This is a story of rhythm, race, resilience, and the quiet, radical power of human connection.

He was selected to join a small team tasked with transforming IBM’s Product Inventory Division (PID) into a modern software distribution engine. Using Business System Planning (BSP), they turned IBM’s client-focused methodology inward, uncovering inefficiencies and designing a future-ready system. Though used to leading, he learned to follow under Steve Wolpert’s guidance. Later, he left the fast track to join CMSP, a program aimed at increasing diversity in engineering. Though it cost him promotions, it deepened his purpose. Across both worlds—corporate and community—he discovered that real leadership means aligning action with values and measuring success by the lives impacted.

Sometimes, strangers appear in people's lives at just the right moment—offering help without expecting anything in return. In three unforgettable moments, the author met such angels: a homeless man who helped him catch a train in New York, twin sisters in France who rescued his towed rental car, and a stranger in California who ensured he reached his stranded family. Each encounter came during a moment of fear or uncertainty, and each reminded him of the quiet power of compassion. These experiences changed him—and now, he tries to be that angel for others, whenever and however he can.

Journeys Toward Balance recounts a turning point when the author, once fully immersed in his left-brain, technical career at IBM, chooses intuition over obligation by leaving a key project to travel to Greece with his partner, Sundarii. In Mykonos, he encounters freedom, sensuality, and self-discovery, confronting ingrained biases and societal norms. The trip catalyzes a profound internal shift, opening him to creativity, emotional depth, and new possibilities. Upon returning, he embraces roles that reflect both intellect and heart. Years later, he sees that this choice led to a richer, more balanced life—one defined not just by success, but by meaning.

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five, the author was left in Jamaica by his mother, a sacrifice he couldn’t understand until he became a parent himself. The pain of her absence resurfaced years later when he gave away his dog, Lucky, who responded with the same heartbreak he once felt. Lucky’s joyful return highlighted the reconciliation he never gave his mother. Through parenting, reflection, and personal growth, he found empathy for her choices. The story ends with quiet forgiveness and the realization that love—however imperfect—can still have the final word.

In The Good Soldier, the narrator recounts a childhood marked by longing, secrecy, and emotional neglect in Kingston, Jamaica. His father, Norman, visited daily but led a double life, never fully claiming his son. After witnessing Norman’s intimacy with another woman, the narrator left home, never to be sought after. Years later, a failed reunion and Norman’s death left wounds only healed through emotional reckoning in adulthood. The story explores themes of love, abandonment, and forgiveness, ultimately revealing that healing comes not from others' choices, but from finding voice, peace, and belonging in the life we choose to build ourselves.

This poignant memoir reflects on a childhood shaped by both joy and hardship on Victoria Avenue in Kingston, Jamaica. From witnessing royal visits and lively street parades to enduring poverty, neglect, and early trauma, the author paints a vivid portrait of resilience. Anchored by small moments of joy—singing in a church choir, watching domino games, and dreaming beneath a mango tree—the story explores how adversity forged inner strength. A later visit reveals the street’s decline, but its impact remains profound. Through heartfelt lessons and reflections, the piece honors memory, encourages healing, and affirms the enduring power of story and identity.

At the peak of his IBM career, he joined a prestigious community program, landing a luxury Park Avenue apartment and, unexpectedly, the love of his life. A chance encounter in a West Village elevator introduced him to Berkeley—a radiant, grounded Southern beauty whose energy contrasted the structured intensity of Veronika, his cultured, passionate Viennese girlfriend. Torn between two lives, a literal storm delayed his trip to Europe, shifting fate. Though he honored his promise to Veronika, their engagement unraveled. Returning to New York, he lost both women—briefly. But the storm had clarified his heart. He chose Berkeley—and built a life.

After an emotionally turbulent breakup, a man who had risen from humble beginnings to the heights of academic and professional success found himself reflecting deeply on his journey. From working as a $70-a-week elevator operator to living in a Park Avenue apartment, he had achieved outward markers of success but struggled with an inner emptiness. Through meaningful friendships with Jose and Veronika, and a chance reunion with Berkeley, he navigated personal growth, cultural exploration, and emotional healing. In his reflections, he shares lessons on resilience, embracing diversity, trusting intuition, and the complexities of life’s decisions.

When Berkeley and I got married, I thought we had it all figured out — a small, intimate ceremony with just a few close people. But, as with anything in life, things didn’t go according to plan. From an unexpected guest to a minister from another planet, our wedding day was full of surprises. There was no grand carriage ride or cinematic ending, just a quiet evening that carried its own kind of significance. In this story, I reflect on the moments that didn’t go as planned but ultimately helped shape who we became together.

Our honeymoon was more than a trip through Europe—it was a journey into the early rhythms of marriage. From Barcelona’s bustling Ramblas to Ibiza’s sunlit beaches, through Avignon’s festival chaos to quiet nights in Florence and Venice, we learned how to travel together—sometimes in sync, sometimes apart. With our cameras always close, we captured not just places but pieces of each other. I came with a map in hand; she followed instinct. What began with mismatched energy grew into shared discovery. That summer taught me marriage isn't about control—it’s about curiosity, compassion, and learning to move through life side by side.

For much of my life, being right defined my success—until Berkeley, the love of my life, told me it was ruining our relationship. To save us, I joined a communication workshop that challenged my logic-driven approach and awakened a deeper emotional awareness. Through tough lessons and transformative exercises, I shifted from needing to be right to choosing connection. That shift didn’t just save my relationship—it reshaped my entire life and career. I learned that emotional intelligence, humility, and presence are the true foundations of lasting love and leadership. Being right builds walls. Being real builds bridges.

My relationship with Berkeley was built on love, truth, and grit, lived fully in the heart of 1980s New York. As an interracial couple, we faced stares, silence, and tough conversations—but we also built deep joy, emotional resilience, and a life filled with laughter, learning, and presence. From personal development work to navigating family reactions and cultural differences, we grew stronger together. Berkeley saw and loved all of me, and I stood with her in return. Our story wasn’t easy, but it was beautiful—and real. It taught me that love isn’t colorblind; it’s courageous, honest, and ever-evolving.

At thirty-nine, newly married and working in tech, I began a journey of transformation sparked by my wife’s challenge to upgrade how I communicated. A skeptical start in a Werner Erhard workshop led to a profound shift in how I listened, spoke, and connected. Over years of training, I evolved from logical analyst to emotionally present leader, becoming a top Seminar Director and later joining IBM. My transformation wasn’t just professional—it was personal, reshaping my marriage, identity, and voice. I learned presence, courage, and emotional truth—and how leading from authenticity could move others and heal myself.

My journey from a rising Seminar Director to an Executive Instructor at IBM was marked by ambition, conflict, and deep self-discovery. A pivotal moment came when I asked for help publicly—exposing pride, race, and vulnerability in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Though I found professional success at IBM, it came at the cost of stepping away from the transformational work that had shaped me. Being stripped of my seminar title brought unexpected relief and clarity. I learned that integrity matters more than titles, pride can be isolating, and growth doesn’t always look like you imagined—but it’s always possible.

On July 11, 1988, I became a father when our son, Madison, was born. The night began in urgency as Berkeley’s water broke, and we rushed to the hospital in Manhattan. The birth, though natural, was intense, and I found myself struggling with feelings of jealousy and helplessness as Berkeley focused entirely on Madison. Yet, when I held him for the first time, everything shifted. I was no longer just a man, but a father. This experience redefined me, challenging me to show up, break generational patterns, and embrace my responsibilities with love and grace. Parenthood deepened my life’s purpose and legacy.

In 1979, I was a 31-year-old man deeply immersed in reggae music and New York's nightlife. One night, I met Sundarii, a free-spirited woman, and our connection sparked an adventurous journey. We traveled through Europe, exploring Rome, Florence, Venice, and Milan, immersing ourselves in the culture, history, and food. The trip transformed me, opening my heart to new experiences and cultures. My growing curiosity for the world, along with the mentorship of people like Althea, shaped my path. Eventually, I settled in Portugal, continuing my adventures and deepening my love for life, learning, and discovery.

The author reflects on the profound impact of his lifelong friendships with Neil Brown, Fred Ferguson, and Ronald McLean. Together, these three men represent resilience, wisdom, and mutual growth. From Neil's transformation from an undercover detective to a senior project executive, to Fred’s compassionate mentorship and advocacy for health equity, and Ronald’s unwavering support through decades of shared experience, their bond exemplifies strength and perseverance. The friendships have navigated challenges, enriched by shared cultural ties, personal growth, and collective resilience. The piece concludes with advice on nurturing enduring, meaningful relationships that promote mutual support and well-being.

In life, true role models often come from humble, everyday backgrounds. For the author, four individuals—Kenneth Rodger, Cherry McLean, Althea Young, and Cipe Burtin—shaped his journey with their integrity, humility, and quiet wisdom. Kenneth taught the value of perseverance and care. Cherry showed the power of focused ambition. Althea expanded horizons through education and cultural openness. Cipe offered grace and a deeper understanding of life through travel and presence. Their examples, not their words, profoundly influenced the author’s growth, teaching that greatness is often found in the unseen, uncelebrated acts of daily living.

After my mother's health declined, I took on the responsibility of caring for her, feeling resentful and burdened by her presence in my home. Despite my emotional conflict, I eventually found forgiveness through a seminar in 1988 and began to understand that caregiving is not about perfection, but presence. My relationship with my mother, shaped by her long absence in my childhood, revealed how unspoken grief and resentment influenced my actions. In the end, I realized caregiving is elemental—showing up for someone, even imperfectly. This journey taught me about forgiveness, vulnerability, and the complexities of family and migration.