There are chapters of life that take shape outside the margins of our grandest plans, often under the pressure of deadlines and the anxious hope that somehow, things will resolve themselves. For me one such chapter unfolded sometime in 2002 during my time as a student at the School of Building and Land Management (SBLM), where I was pursuing a course in Land Economy and Valuation Surveying (LEVS), at the University of Technology (UTech), Jamaica – a story that began in panic and ended in unexpected camaraderie.
It was the height of assignment season, and as any seasoned student will tell you, technical drawing assignments have a peculiar way of stacking up until you’re buried under there exacting lines and precise angles. My friend Rickman Edwards and I had let a mountain of them pile up, and the due date was thundering towards us with all the subtlety of a freight train. We had circled a particular day on the calendar; a day that would see us finally conquer the assignments and hand them in on time.
As the sun rose on our chosen day, we arrived on campus, determined and perhaps a little bleary-eyed. Our spirits, however, were trampled almost immediately. The classroom with the precious drawing tables we needed was not available; it was already in use; the door closed to our ambitions.
Refusing to surrender, we wandered the campus, weighing our options. I can’t recall whose “brilliant” idea it was, but soon we found ourselves sneaking over to the imposing Caribbean School of Architecture building, hearts pounding with the guilty thrill of trespass and the desperation of looming deadlines. We slipped inside a classroom and got to work, each stroke of the pencil a small rebellion against time.
But fate, in the guise of a self-appointed gatekeeper wasn’t about to let us off easily. A student—bigger, louder, and clearly protective of his domain strode in and announced with all the subtlety of a thunderclap, that we had no business being there. The word stung, but it was the tone that sent us packing. With heads bowed and hands fumbling for our scattered instruments and drawing sheets we prepared to make a shame-faced retreat.
Just as we gathered our courage to leave, another voice cut through the tension. Unlike the first, this voice was calm and firm; a quiet authority that commanded attention. The newcomer, whose face I can still picture in the radiant light of the classroom, told us to continue drawing. He turned to the oppressor and, in no uncertain terms, reminded him of the virtue of consideration. “Let them finish,” he said and to our amazement, the room fell silent except for the scratch of our pencils. Those next few hours were a gift: we completed our assignments, and for the first time that day hope returned.
Days later, while weaving through the campus crowd, I ran into Sonji, a friend from the Business Administration Department who is a member of the United Church in Jamaica and the Cayman Islands (UCJCI). She mentioned that Andre, a guy who attended a branch of the United Church in Jamaica and the Cayman Islands; the same denomination we belonged to is a student in the Architectural Department. As it turned out, this was none other than our advocate, the very student who’d come to our defense when we were being ushered out.
I sought Andre out, eager to express my gratitude and to share our common bond in the UCJCI. He told me he was a member of the Greendale United Church congregation, and we quickly became acquaintances. From then on, whenever our paths crossed on campus, we exchanged greetings; a simple hi and bye, yet one that reminded me how accidental encounters can chart new directions in life.
Looking back, I realize that our desperate attempt to find a drawing table was more than a scramble to avoid submitting late assignments; it was a detour that led to meaningful connection. Proverbs 16:9 states; A man’s heart plans his ways, But the Lord directs his steps.
In the tangle of nerves and near—misadventures, I discovered the power of kindness in unexpected places as well as the benefits of embracing challenges. Andre’s intervention not only saved our grades but also set me on a path towards friendships and networks that have influenced my life’s projection ever since. This encounter is still sending ripples almost three decades later and is even felt globally.
If there’s a lesson in this story, it’s that life’s most formative moments rarely arrive wrapped in certainty. Sometimes, when your back is against the wall and the world feels less than welcoming, all it takes is one person to show you grace and a closed door to steer you towards a better one.
What was your campus life like?
Have you ever had any similar encounters?
But fate, in the guise of a self-appointed gatekeeper wasn’t about to let us off easily. A student—bigger, louder, and clearly protective of his domain strode in and announced with all the subtlety of a thunderclap, that we had no business being there.
