Tennesia Malcolm, Staff Reporter

Dr Polly Bowes-Howell, early-childhood specialist, has 'mothered' more than 50 children at some point in her life. - Ian Allen/Staff Photographer

Woburn Abbey. The name at the entrance to the property harks back to an old English manor with draughty walls and ineffective fireplaces. But the name belies the love and warmth inside.

There lives Dr Polly Bowes-Howell, a woman who has done the same, at sometime or another, to more than 50 children. Whether 'at-risk' or just needing a warm place to stay, Bowes-Howell has risen to the challenge of saving as many children as she can.

No greater pleasure

The early-childhood specialist, as she ushers us in, is also looking out for her 'army' of men - three of those who have benefited from her benevolence, who she unhesita-tingly invited to share in her moment of glory. But for 'Aunt Polly', there is no greater pleasure than witnessing the success of these children who might otherwise have been lost.

While we wait, we meet Abby-Gayle, the youngest of the 13 children who she has officially fostered. Abby-Gayle has just received excellent passes in the Grade Four Literacy Test and the doting mother encourages her to brag a little. What we also hear is that Abby is perhaps the last of Bowes-Howell's foster children, if her family has anything to say about it.

"They say I'm older now, so I need to slow down," she says.

But the vivacity with which this good Samaritan approaches life tells us she has lots left in the tank. And her community outreach is testament to that. Her curriculum vitae reads like a study in leadership and mentoring.

Bowes-Howell relates how it all began.

"When I went to St Joseph's Teachers' College, my first job was at Above Rocks and I found a student in the class who was just not making it and I brought the student home. That student (Cecile Palmer) is now the principal at Holy Family," Aunt Polly says of her first attempt at fostering.

From then on, "Every class I had, I took a child home. And that was how it started."

Tough love

More than 50 children later, the former principal admits that, in hindsight, her methods of correction were not always ideal. While she has had reason to employ corporal punishment, she says her travels and study in the United States gave her a different perspective on discipline.

"The United States opened my eyes to the learning needs of children. If the children's needs are not met - a good night's sleep, children are missing their parents, missing their home - when you pull up a child from somewhere, the adjustment is a problem," said Bowes-Howell, 64, who also has three biological daughters.

"You have to just shower them with love, make them feel that they are special to you."

This new-found awareness of special-needs students prompted her to expand that unit at Stony Hill Primary and Junior High during her tenure as principal.

As the young men arrive at her Mt Salus, St Andrew, home they remember fondly the physical prodding by Aunt Polly.

"Mother, child; child gives trouble, mother punishes you," is how 24-year-old Ricardo Gohagen describes it. He came to live with Bowes-Howell after years in a government-run boys' home.

Now, after learning to read and write at age 13, with his benefactor's encouragement, Gohagen proudly declares, "This is my home."

The family home is decorated with photos and trophies marking milestones in the matriarch's life and those of her children.

A transformed life

One such face peering out from the numerous photo frames is that of foster son Keron Grant, now a 22-year-old social marketing major at the Caribbean Institute of Media and Communication, who credits his achievements to Bowes-Howell's intervention.

"She took me from Homestead (Boys' Home). I was in high school at the time and wasn't doing so well, so she thought that if she took me in her own home, maybe she could nurture me, give me that which I needed to push me to success," Grant, a Christian, explains.

"It was very difficult for me coming into a principal's home; the standards that she expected me to have in terms of my attire, my speech."

It is the same for Gohagen. "I did not miss my biological family because I felt at home. I felt loved, cared for; I was not in need of anything. She didn't treat us like strangers, she didn't treat us like we were someone else's kids, she treated us like we were her own."

But Bowes-Howell is quick to point out that she hasn't done it alone. Widowed for 23 years, she says help from her siblings, and later her grown daughters, has sustained the mission of charity, a legacy from her own mother.

"My mother raised 12 of us and it was not this big house that you see here, it was a little two-bedroom house. And every Monday, Mama had another baby; Papa travelled on farm work and Mama would take a child off the street; we were fortunate in that we had a sense of family," Aunt Polly explains. "This is what our parents would have wanted us to do."

Footsteps followed

Bowes-Howell recalls that her parents did not do it because they were wealthy, as a bar and a shop and proceeds from the sale of The Gleaner were their only means of support in those early years.

Decades later, Bowes-Howell walks in her parents' benevolent footsteps. "The house is here, what do you do with it? Bring somebody in and hope that, in turn, they will do the same for others."

And already they have begun. Bowes-Howell heads a special education unit at the Jamaica Teachers' Association that tries to reach out to troubled youngsters before they become lost in the system. Her biological daughter, Christine, along with Keron and Ricardo, helps in communicating with these children who would otherwise be reluctant to share their concerns with authority figures. Keron and Ricardo, having had their own difficulties, are able to put them at ease and provide models of redemption.

Dr Bowes-Howell has a special hug for her granddaughter Alliana. Also with her are (from left) Keron Grant and Ricardo Gohagen, foster children; Damon Riley, mentee; and Abby-Gayle Service, another foster child. - Ian Allen/Staff Photographer

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