Pulling up to English ports, the first wave of Caribbean men disembarked in sharp pinstripe suits and stiff-rimmed fedoras. So, too, did scores of women with hot combed hair, silk shirts and coats to brave chilly temperatures they’d never encountered on those sunny isles. ‘WELCOME HOME,’ reads the Evening Standard headline marking the arrival of the first 800 passengers on the HMT Empire Windrush who had come in search of a new opportunities in postwar Britain.
When we speak of the Windrush Generation, the term can understandably evoke sadness, anger or shame. It’s often used as shorthand for the thousands of Caribbean workers who came by boats and planes to fill Britain’s postwar labour shortages between 1948 and 1971, providing the backbone for the newly formed NHS and transport systems, but there’s new weight to it.
