Page 30 - Daphne Hart - 89 and Feeling Fine

I started school at eight years old—that was the age kids
started school back then. No kindergarten. You would

go straight to A class. But despite my stuttering, I was

very intelligent. And my brother hated me even more
for that. I was able to skip B and C classes and caught

up with him in First Class. Then I skipped Second and
Third and went straight to Fourth. He would tease me

by making fun of the way I spoke because I was born in
Kingston and had a different accent. Although he

tolerated me, he made my life miserable.

Then one day, out of the blue, an older boy showed up—
who I was told was my older brother. Now I had two of

them to deal with. My stuttering became so much worse.

In those days, nobody told children anything. They were

only to be seen and not heard. But once, during a heated

quarrel, I heard my dad say, “She is not even mine.” In
his country’s way of speaking: "She a no fi mi

pickney."

Oh. So that was the problem.

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