Joyce M. Johnson was born in Jamaica West Indies where she spent her formative years and has lived in Canada for over 50 years where she attended high school and college. After graduating from college, her long successful career began at Dover Elevator where she worked in main frame computer as Operation and Programmer. Joyce studied creative writing at Seneca College, Toronto, Canada.
The years of living in Canada have awakened Joyce’s consciousness. She been led by inner and outward influences to engage in social dialoguing at the ‘community level’ as to write about and share her wealth of experiences developed in Canada. Shaped in part by her Jamaican past. Her first novel was called, In ‘Search Of Happiness’. The name has been change to ‘Henrietha’, It is sequel”, which is now completed after writing for many years. Also I have completed another sequel novel called, “Waiting For The World To Change”. Joyce says. “This is an exciting beginning to my writing career, because I do feel this is where my calling lies. “Henrietha – and Waiting For the Word was published but decided to pulled it and do some more editing on the novels.
Synopsis
These books are focused on the sexual abuse of young girls in the African American community and the lack of appropriate father figures. Henrietha and Joanna, who is a journalist, are old friends who meet up multiple times while Henrietha tells stories of her own childhood and adulthood victories and abuses, Henrietha recalls not just her own sufferings but also those of her child, Melinda-Sue and granddaughter Ruth. After Ruth’s biological father lands in jail, Melinda-Sue finds herself getting married to Jason, who then sexually abuses Ruth from the tender age of five years old, for seven years. Ruthie comes to live with her grandmother after being abused sexually by both her biological father and her stepfather who then kicked her out of the house. Henrietha and Joanna share their fair shares of challenges in life as they continue to catch up with each other after some time apart.
The stories shared in the book covered a wide range of themes. Those themes included gender, power, race, religion, love, guilt, stigma, and class. You can expect to imagine vivid pictures of the events they recalled; almost like you were there with them. Although their stories were engulfed in sadness, they added a twist of humor occasionally to lighten up the reader from the darkness of the tales.
Book BLURB
Ruthie often traveled on the subway with her best friend Jem from the church where they attend often. She told me that the pastor had brainwashed her. When the abused came to light to her pastor, he called her stepfather and setup a counsel session for him but not for Ruthie.
Often times, Ruthie traveled on the subway with her friend Jem, and they discussed their abuses as Jem was abused also. They share many interests in life. Ruthie said thoughts of jumping across the train tracks often crossed her mind. Jem talked her down at times. One night, she came home and had me cornered in my bedroom with her eyes blazing with fire as she sat me on the bed and yelled at me, “Why didn’t you come over to my house and save me from the abuse? I was waiting for someone to save me. I can still smell the scent of Jason on me. Night after night and Sunday after Sunday, when he came home from church, he had me as his sex slave. Grandma you said you felt in your mind something was not right, so why didn’t you come and kick the door down and find out what was going on?”
“But, my dear, I did call the Children’s Aid. I told them what you said, that you were sleeping in the closet at one time, and they came and visited. They called me and told me all was good in the home. There was nothing else I could have done.”
She left that night with her friend, and three days later, I heard from her that she is in British Colombia. They took the bus. She said if she hadn’t left the province, she would have jumped the subway track. As you know, Joanna, there is a finished rooftop on my building. Many times, whenever Ruthie comes home, she would go to the rooftop even before she goes to bed. She said she finds peace and comfort there. She felt like God was up there waiting to talk and comfort her.
Is domestic work really for black women? It seems that way. Whenever some white person or others meet you and talk about work, it seems they are waiting for you to say that this is the job you are doing.
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