In Antigua, she completed her secondary education under the British system due to Antigua's status as a British colony until 1967.
She went on to study photography at the New York School for Social Research after leaving the family for which she worked, and also attended Franconia College in New Hampshire for a year.
I came to page 99, the last paragraph of Sandy's essay titled "A Lovely Sort of Lower Purpose." I read, then re-read, then re-read again these words: "A plan will claim the empty acres Ö The place's possibilities, which at the moment are approximately infinite, will be reduced to merely a few." I stopped. That night, and every day since, Sandy's words have been a presence in my mind - a tension, a reminder, a push to lay myself bare.
He inspired me to continually seek out that site we have taken to call the Third River - the sort of out-of-the-way, unlikely American place that one only really sees when one is paying special attention.
Jamaica Kincaid was born in 1949 as Elaine Potter Richardson on the island of Antigua.
She lived with her stepfather, a carpenter, and her mother until 1965 when she was sent to Westchester, New York to work as an au pair.
Other readers see it as an example of the artful playfulness that characterizes his best work.Her first writing experience involved a series of articles for magazines, offered her a job.Kincaid later married Shawn's son, Allen, a composer and Bennington College professor, and they have two children.* by Ian Frazier Personally, I love Crazy Horse because even the most basic outline of his life shows how great he was; because he remained himself from the moment of his birth to the moment he died; because he knew exactly where he wanted to live, and never left; because he may have surrendered, but he was never defeated in battle; because, although he was killed, even the Army admitted he was never captured; because he was so free that he didn't know what a jail looked like; because at the most desperate moment of his life he only cut Little Big Man on the hand; because, unlike many people all over the world, when he met white men he was not diminished by the encounter; because his dislike of the oncoming civilization was prophetic; because the idea of becoming a farmer apparently never crossed his mind; because he didn't end up in the Dry Tortugas; because he never met the President; because he never rode on a train, slept in a boardinghouse, ate at a table; because he never wore a medal or a top hat or any other thing that white men gave him; because he made sure that his wife was safe before going to where he expected to die; because although Indian agents, among themselves, sometimes referred to Red Cloud as "red" and Spotted Tail as "spot," they never used a diminutive for him; because, deprived of freedom, power, occupation, culture, trapped in a situation where bravery was invisible, he was still brave; because he fought in self-defense, and took no one with him when he died; because, like the rings of Saturn, the carbon atom, and the underwater reef, he belonged to a category of phenomena which our technology had not then advanced far enough to photograph; because no photograph or painting or even sketch of him exists; because he is not the Indian on the nickel, the tobacco pouch, or the apple crate. -The Houston Chronicle Nonfiction writer and humorist Ian Frazier combines first-person narrative to capture contemporary life and travel narratives that explore American history and geography especially the American West.I do two different kinds of writing, although I don't divide them in my mind.