ALEC & SUSAN

From Sangre Grande to Survival

Growing up in Trinidad and Tobago was a roller coaster of highs and lows. After my father left, poverty wasn't just a circumstance, but a daily challenge we forced ourselves to endure. Telling my mom I was leaving to build a better life and to support her and my siblings—was incredibly hard for h

er to take. It was equally difficult for me to leave the only family I knew to venture to a foreign country on my own.

It took months of intense work and fundraising to finally get my visa approved. But while I celebrated that success, I am now facing a new hurdle: securing the money for my ticket to the United Sates. It took another six months to scrape the funds together. When the day of travel finally arrived, I felt a heavy sadness mixed with overwhelming excitement. My uncle agreed to house me for one year, but the clock was ticking—after that, I was on my own.

I was absolutely determined to succeed, keeping my eyes on my goals and refusing to let anyone stand in my way. Stepping out into the cold, flurried air of JFK Airport in New York City, I was immediately struck by the scene. It was a wonderful sight, and despite my lack of a warm coat, I felt cozy knowing my uncle had me covered. The bright, bustling lights of the city were exhilarating.

The drive to my uncle's Brooklyn apartment took about an hour. He lived on the fifth floor, and thank goodness there was an elevator. After I dropped my luggage, he laid out the house rules: I was sleeping on the sofa, and if he had a female companion over, I had to wait in the hallway until she left. This is going to be a long year, I thought.

"I am 22-year-old Susan Thomas from Trindad and Tobago. I live in the bustling town of Sangre Grande, famously known as 'Sandy Grande.' Situated in the Northeast, it is a convenient thirty-five-minute drive away from Port-of-Spain, the capital city." I am a hardworking and dedicated individual who takes pride in going the extra mile. I am currently seeking a nanny position where I can apply my skills and become a reliable part of a family, and establish my independence.

"I woke up to a magical sight: the world outside my window was covered in white. Having never seen snow before, I was eager to experience it. I opened the window, only to be hit by a rush of cold air. The snow was incredibly cold, melting immediately upon contact with my skin. With my uncle likely at work, I took the opportunity to surprise him by cleaning the apartment and preparing a hot meal."

I waited for my uncle to get home so we could have dinner together, but I was surprised to find him with a woman. He gave me a cold look—a clear signal that I needed to leave. I left immediately, abandoning my jacket in the process. The hallway was freezing, and I waited three hours for her to leave before I could slip back inside. Seeking warmth, I ran a hot shower, but when I finally went to the kitchen for my dinner, I found only dirty dishes. I sighed.

After cleaning the kitchen. I prepared for bed, resigned to another night sleeping on an empty stomach. It will be better tomorrow. I whispered, trying to hold onto hope before the darkness took over. The next day, I ventured out, but the dressing snow forced me to stop quickly. I managed to reach the corner store, only to leave disappointed. I was desperately looking for a connection—someone to ask about a job. After a week of trying, I finally mustered the courage to speak to the guy behind the counter. He needed help, but the pay was meager. He didn't even get to finish his sentence before I accepted.

Over the next few months, time blurred as I spent more time in the hallway. I finally mustered the courage to tell my boss I was searching for a nanny position.

"I have a friend who is currently in search of a live-in nanny with weekends free."

Despite my initial hesitation regarding the job requirements, I quickly agreed to the arrangements, mentioning that "I could still work on weekends."

Two days after my interview, which was bolstered by a strong character reference from my current boss, I officially started my new position. That first Monday was a whirlwind of nerves and excitement. While the first week seemed to crawl by, I quickly bonded with the family. Their eight-month-old, Jack, was a joy to care for; with my extensive experience with infants, the transition felt natural and easy.

With only three months left before I had to leave my uncle's apartment, I was at a complete loss. I didn't know where I would store my things or where I would stay on weekends. My anxiety must have been obvious because one weekend, while I was working, my boss, Jacob, pulled me aside.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "You haven't been yourself lately."

After I told him I was facing homelessness, he immediately promised to help. I was flooded with relief to know I wasn't alone.

Over the past two months, I felt completely welcomed by the family, treating me as one of their own while I enjoyed my job and watched baby Jack take his first steps. However, returning home this weekend, Jacob tempered my spirits by suggesting,

"I need you to keep an open mind about a new housing lead."

"Can you explain?"

"It is a room for rent in a shared house."

"Do I have to share the bathroom with others?"

"Yes. Only with the people on the same floor and also the kitchen."

I was speechless. Who lives like this with strangers? I thought. But with my options limited, I remembered that beggars cannot be choosers.

"When can I see the place?" I asked him.

"Tomorrow," he answered.

When I finally stepped inside, I was pleasantly surprised. The place was spotless and well-maintained. The land-lady, Mrs. Johnson, mentioned that it was an all-girls building, which instantly set me at ease. The room was spacious and fully furnished—a bed, a dresser with a mirror, a nightstand, and a closet. I didn't hesitate; I told her I would take it immediately.

After handing Mrs. Johnson the deposit and signing the lease, the reality of it all began to sink in. I was officially on my own. The thrill of such a 'grown-up' milestone felt almost like a dream. I didn't waste a second; I went straight home, threw my life into a few bags, and left my uncle's place behind. I even picked up a new cell phone to mark the fresh start. When I finally broke the news to my uncle that night, telling him I was already gone, his stunned expression made the whole journey worth it.

He looked visibly upset.

"I didn't think you would be able to find your way this quickly," he said.

"Well, I was extremely determined to make it on my own. Thank you for allowing me to stay here. Here is my cell phone number, so now you have a way to reach me."

"You have a cell phone?" He reached over and took the paper out of my hand.

"Yes, I thought it was time."

I handed him the key to his place. He took it, and I turned on my heel, leaving without looking back.

Walking away gave me a profound sense of liberation I had never felt before. While I'll still be working for Jacob in the neighborhood on weekends, I won't be making any effort to see my uncle. I have been sending money to my mom every two weeks, and she told me in her letter yesterday how much this sacrifice has helped the family. I told her I would do anything for them, and I was thrilled to let her know about the positive changes in my life.

With a spring in my step all weekend, I worked with a smile, confident that everything was falling into place. It was one of those rare moments where I couldn't be happier. When Jacob asked,

"What was behind this mood?"

I admitted that "Adulthood is actually going well—I'm finally doing exactly what I set out to do."