Seven Years on Adventist Street

With prejudicial eyes we sometimes look at a landscape and make judgments about the place. I am sure that many people look at Adventist Street and surmise that this strip of land is like any other in Trinidad. Surely they will question whether such a place could have given birth to anything good. Adventist Street, what does it really connote? Yes, it is an actual street in Sangre Grande, Trinidad. Is Adventist Street just a physical landscape? Is it just a strip of land covered over with pitch? For seven years I lived on Adventist Street. For seven years I trod the asphalt on this street and navigated my way through its uneven, potholed surface. For seven years I experienced the community noise on this street. For seven years I was hammered, chiseled, honed, and fashioned to think; to discern the voices that sought to impress their philosophies upon my fertile mind. For seven years I witnessed the movement of the characters on this stage, Adventist Street. I had to winnow away the chaff to find the right path to follow. I am a product of Adventist Street. I am part of Adventist Street and Adventist Street is part of me. Every neighbor and institution had an integral role to play in my development. Reflecting on the past, I can now visualize how everyone with whom I came into contact became part of my experience, whether I liked them or not. Locked away in some corner of my cranium are the forms, the eyes, gestures, facial expressions, and nuances of the people on Adventist Street. The privilege is mine to resurrect some of these individuals, to invoke the personalities that played such an integral role in my cultural development. Without the collective impact of the people who resided on Adventist Street I would not be what I am today. Someone said that it takes a village to raise a child. Adventist Street was not simply a street; it was a lesson book. I decided to write this brief text to illustrate to the world that despite the worst of social, psychological, and