Me and V: a personal introduction to gay tolerance

One Caribbean Nation.

By William Skinner

Me and V: a personal introduction to gay tolerance

I must have been around nine or ten years old. V was a well-known gay citizen, who lived in my beloved hometown of Britton’s Hill, in the parish of St. Michael, Barbados.

My earliest recollection of V was his apparent penchant for dressing in white. I seldom saw him in a long pants, and he walked with an amazing rhythm. Even at that early age, I realized that he was very effeminate. He always seemed busy  out and about in the Brittons Hill area and it was obvious that everybody knew him, and his notoriety was island wide. I also noticed that he was always exceptionally clean.

Later, I would learn that he was also known as a popular pudding and souse vendor, who carried on his trade in the vicinity of Nelson Street, in the city. He was well loved and respected in Britton’s Hill; along with that respect came good-natured heckling.

One day, around midafternoon, about three of my childhood friends and I were “looking for trouble” or the devil was gaining control of our idle hands and minds.

V was walking along the road when we decided to heckle him and one of us  called him, a she-she. This act took place about a minute’s walk from my home that was located at Seamans Village. V simply crossed the street and went straight to the house and called out my mother.

The conversation between them went something like this:

V: “Ms. Skinner, your son, the “red wun”, would not let me walk the road in peace. You know me from the time I was a little girl, and you need to speak to him. I do not want you to beat him, just tell him to stop.”

Ms. Skinner: “Yes. I know you from small and your mother and I are good friends. I am going to speak to William, but I am not going to lash him because you have asked me not to.”

I then realized that what we did was not funny at all. My friends also looked embarrassed at their actions. My mother told me to go in the house and promised V that she will talk to me. She then advised my friends to “go home” and to stop interfering with people. She informed them that I would not be coming back out that day.

She and V had a little chat. I distinctly heard her telling him to “remember to” his mother for her and he was asking her about the children overseas.

My mother came back in the house and in her usually calm voice told me: William, you are wrong. You all had no right troubling V, you will soon learn that everybody have their own ways. V does not trouble you and you should not trouble him. When you see him next time,  speak to him the same way, I have taught you to address everybody else. I knew that she was right, but I had one question to ask her: Why did he say that she knew him from the time he was a little girl?

She told me that is his way and it had nothing to do with me. She also asked me if I would have liked people to trouble me if I were a little girl. I was told not to trouble people who do not trouble me. And she told me that if V complains to her again; I would get lashes.

I felt ashamed of my actions and from that day on, I never disrespected V again. I addressed him correctly and he always smiled. He once told me that when he sees my mother again, he would tell her that I do not bother him anymore.

Many years later, I would give V a lift , once I was going his way. He told me that he was glad that I stayed out of trouble and not to “follow bad company”. His mannerisms were no longer funny to me. But I must confess that to this very day  I remember and genuinely admired the rhythm of his walk. One day I passed him selling his pudding and souse in Nelson Street. He was too busy and did not see me. I saw the white cloth he used to cover his product. And I remembered that white was his favorite color.

I always remember V and his tight pants, his poise, and his diligence. Everything about him fitted perfectly and blended with his lifestyle and personality. At the ripe old age of ten, I learnt from a seventh standard girl and a beautiful gay man, that gay people have rights, and all people must be respected. At the beginning of the sixties, I heard a gay man say to my mother that she knew him from the time he was a little girl.

I have been a defender of gay people from the age of ten. Thank you mummy. Thank you, V.

William Skinner is a Caribbean Social Commentator.