By Claude Mills, Staff Reporter
Christine the higgler in 1985. - Contributed
Christine Hewitt doesn't want to be anyone's hero. She is a
walking contradiction, a product of a 'colourful' if tragic childhood. Arrogant and proud, this former 'higgler' has no qualms about showing her 'feet of clay'.
She is always fabulously attired, in her words, she "dresses to intimidate", yet at the flicker of an eyelash, she will hurl a stream of polysyllabic swear words with such angry panache that even the most foul-mouthed 'rumhead' would blush and hurry to take notes.
Her message is clear: 'I shall not be moved.'
HEWITT NEVER quite got the hang of life at the high-brow English colonial holdover of Westwood High School for 'good girls from respectable families'. She consistently failed etiquette and deportment at the Stewart Town, Trelawny, school.
She was suspended three times, put in a week-long isolation in sick bay where she was given Bible tracts to read, and eventually expelled from boarding. She was not allowed to graduate because of her off-the-wall behaviour.
"They thought I was a virago," she explained.
Driven by her demons and her father's cruelty, Hewitt was constantly in trouble at home and school. She recalled a particularly explosive incident on the last day of school when, in front of a large crowd of teachers, parents and students, she threw a few rocks into her father's windshield after he broke a red and black thermos she had won in a track event and planned to present to her mother. "My father threw away my suitcase, and drove off and left me, and I decided I wasn't going home."
She spent an agonising 14 days at the school with only the caretaker, a teacher, and two dogs. "Well yu know hungry did a go kill me, and dem did ah feed the Alsatian dogs, Beau and Bijoux, better than dem ah feed me, so what I would do was laywait them (the dogs) in the evenings and hijack dem food.
"Mi just pawn a big stick, and claat one ah dem inna him head, and dem run way and mi tek way dem food. Mi eat some in the morning and leave the rest till evening. I decided I must not die," she said, laughing.
Her father returned two weeks later, and took her home. She spent an angry summer filled with alcoholic tirades, mattress and shoe fires (set by her father) and terror-filled nights. She stewed away at the futility of her life.
By the time she returned to school in September, "mi totally mad, mi neva care anymore, anybody do me anything, mi plan fi do them some violent tings. I was out of control but they never asked what was happening in my home," she said.
She even duked it out with the ancillary staff over their insistence on serving pork, which she had eliminated from her diet. Verbal clashes quickly turned into 'food skirmishes'.
"Mi seh oonu go nyam it, and if dem argue, three dumpling and a piece of pork coulda all reach dem," she said.
Despite her problems, she was active in school, representing Westwood in drama, netball, and long distance track events.
EXPELLED FROM BOARDING
Still, drama was never far away. She recalled snapping one night after a bunch of girls decided to report her for stealing a 'needle and thread' which she had squirreled away to 'sew up mi one bloomers'.
"I was too proud to steal. I merely wanted the thread to sew up my one bloomers. But then one of the girls lifted up my skirt over my head, and I did have to stab her up with a scissors."
She was expelled from boarding two months before the GCE/CXC exams in 1979. She did well, scoring a one in CXC English at general proficiency level. However, she was never allowed to graduate despite good passes in exams because "my conduct was below the pale of the establishment".
"That was the first time I knew that pale wasn't something mama pee-pee inna," she added, laughing.
To this date, she has not received a school-leaving certificate, but relishes her years at Westwood High, especially her interaction with former principal Etta Whiteman.
"She taught me English Language and Literature, my favourite subjects. I loved Ms. Whiteman the best. Even when she punished me, I never once felt that she didn't like me."
Interestingly, Hewitt's younger sister, Dacia, was a model student who distinguished herself at the institution. Another sister, Winsome, according to Hewitt gave trouble on and off and didn't graduate either.
"Winsome suffered from the terrible
legacy she inherited from me."
Hewitt's ultimate revenge is having her 13-year-old daughter, Tricia, attend Westwood -- the institution she had terrorised only two decades ago.
"It is the revenge of my ancestors again," she said. "I have never been called to the school for an infraction of rules, but the teachers say she (Tricia) is precocious and self-assured. I wonder where she gets that from?" A big smile spreads across her lips.
CHRISTINE AND FASHION
"I am a trend-setter."
"I dress to intimidate, especially if I am going into a hostile meeting," quips Christine Hewitt, a firm believer in power dressing.
"When things get difficult, mi look inna mi wardrobe and go back to Africa for the groundation to find the counteraction for the English colonialism and oppression, and mi draw fi it, something fi kick dem inna dem throat and pap it."
Her affinity for African dressing began during the period when she wore locks and practised Rastafarianism between 1992 and 1999. However, at the height of her spiritual struggles one night she lopped off her locks after midnight. "I felt like an impostor," she explained.
Since then she has dyed her hair blonde, and covers her head with unique wraps, and uses bold African weaves as a 'lethal weapon' and to drive home the point: "I will not bow to you."
"Whatever I can wear well is the essence of my fashion. I am a trend-setter. Forty-five per cent of the women who watch 'Man Talk' tune in to see what I will wear, and 10 per cent do it so they can call their friends to ridicule me and say 'yu see wha di dutty gal have on'.
Whatever they say Hewitt reckons she's still ahead. She makes hats for herself as well as other personalities such as Caymanas Track Limited CEO Rose Campbell, psychologist Dr. Grace Corrish and even singer Patti Labelle.
