Windrush Elders
Sybil Atkins
Sybil was born in Barbados on July 24, 1936, and spent her early years on the idyllic island surrounded by sun and sea. Her memories of childhood in Barbados are filled with warmth, both in the climate and from the sense of community that enveloped her. “The community looked after the children,” she recalls fondly, noting how everyone played a role in raising the younger generation. It was a time when respect for elders was paramount, if a child misbehaved, punishment could come from anyone in the community, and any complaints to a parent would only result in further consequences.
Sybil’s mother, a hard-working woman, provided for the family through various jobs, including cooking for a plantation and engaging in dressmaking and shop work. Though Sybil did not have the privilege of growing up close to her grandparents her grandmother lived in America. She shared a connection with her mother that was both loving and nurturing. They would often attend church together and share simple joys like bus rides, creating a strong bond between them.
In 1965, at the age of 27, Sybil made the life-changing decision to move to the United Kingdom. It was a decision spurred by the promise of better opportunities, but it came with its own set of challenges. Sybil arrived in London in October of that year, landing at Heathrow Airport, and was immediately struck by the stark difference between her homeland and the cold, grey environment of Britain. The weather was particularly hard to adjust to, a far cry from the consistent warmth of Barbados. “It was strange, because we had sunshine all the time,” Sybil explains, recalling the difficulty of acclimatising to the UK’s chill.
The transition wasn’t only about the weather. Sybil found that the sense of community she had known in Barbados was absent in Britain. “The West Indians stayed by themselves, and the others stayed by themselves,” she says, explaining the fragmented nature of social life in her new home. While the UK was not openly hostile, Sybil remembers instances of racial tension, particularly when people made comments like “Why don’t you go back to where you come from?” One incident on a bus stands out vividly. When a woman attempted to make a rude remark, Sybil stood her ground, responding with a sharp retort: “I’ve got somewhere to go back to. Where do you have to go?” This moment of defiance became a testament to her resilience in the face of prejudice.
Her early days in London were modest. Sybil and her husband lived in a single room, a sharp contrast to the spaciousness of their home in Barbados. Though they managed to find work, Sybil’s first job was with a television company. Life in the cramped quarters was difficult. “We had a room with everything in it,” she reflects. It was a far cry from the open spaces she had been used to, and the experience often left her feeling a sense of claustrophobia.
As a mother of three children, Sybil found raising her family in the UK to be a challenge. With no extended family to rely on, she and her husband had to manage everything themselves. “It was very hard because I didn’t have any family here,” she shares. Nevertheless, Sybil remained determined, navigating the complexities of life in a foreign land while maintaining a sense of cultural pride.
Now, as Sybil reflects on her life, she is proud of the path she has carved and the strength she has shown through times of adversity. Her children, now in their 50s and 60s, have flourished, a testament to her perseverance and dedication. The journey from Barbados to Britain, from warmth to cold, from tight quarters to independence, has shaped her into the resilient woman she is today.