From the age of 10, working alongside his father, he developed a lifelong relationship with the soil. Today, as both a chaplain and master gardener, he blends cultivation with community service.

That work became his Grow, Eat, Save programme, which he has led for the past decade through the Department of Health.

He launched it in response to rising food costs, increased reliance on imports, and the loss of traditional knowledge.

“If people learn to grow more of what they eat,” he said, “they can eat healthier, spend less and strengthen food security.”

In Bermuda, where hurricanes are part of life, that also means learning to protect crops and rebuild after storms.

As a storm approaches, Dr Santucci keeps the focus simple.

“The first thing I always tell people is to harvest what they can. Don’t leave mature crops to be destroyed by wind and rain.”

Preparation then turns to securing the space.

“Secure everything, pots, tools and anything loose, because the wind will take what is not anchored.”

Taller plants should be “supported or gently tied down,” while weak branches are pruned ahead of time. The aim is survival.

“You are not trying to perfect the garden; you are trying to help it survive.”

That includes protecting the soil. Mulch where possible and ensure drainage is working properly, since “too much standing water can be just as damaging as the wind.”

Delicate crops can be covered where possible, but simple steps make a difference.

“In Bermuda’s climate, gardeners must work with salt air, strong sun, humidity and frequent storms,” he said.

“Some crops are better suited than others,” Dr Santucci noted, adding that “the plants that hold up best tend to be resilient, deep-rooted, and adaptable”.

He pointed to root crops like sweet potatoes, cassava, and yams; hardy greens such as callaloo, kale, Swiss chard, and okra; fruit trees including banana, papaya, guava, mango, and loquat; along with herbs and salt-tolerant plants like rosemary, thyme, sea grape and aloe.

“Success is not just about what is planted, but how it is grown within our environment,” Dr Santucci said.

He highlights low, wind-resistant planting, mixed crops, raised beds, compost-rich soil and “succession planting” to sustain harvests. After the storm passes, patience takes over.

“The first thing I always tell people is to be safe, don’t rush into the garden until you know it is clear of hazards.”

Then comes observation.

“Not everything that looks damaged is lost” he reminded us.

“Start by clearing what is dangerous or blocking the space,” Dr Santucci said, advising gardeners “not to be too quick to remove everything,” as some plants “just need support, a little pruning and time to recover.”

He recommended re-staking fallen plants, covering exposed roots, rinsing off salt where needed and restoring soil with compost and mulch after heavy rain.

Recovery takes time.

“Don’t try to rebuild the whole garden in one day. You start with what survives, then rebuild step by step.”

And in Dr Santucci’s advice, we hear more than just advice related to the garden.

Hurricanes expose how fragile human systems are, but they also reveal the importance of resilience, community support and faith in rebuilding.

“The garden is never truly destroyed; it is only waiting to be restored.”

Those words inspire the heart and the gardening hands, in that the work after a hurricane is not simply recovery, but part of a natural rhythm, not an ending, but a new beginning.

Protect your outdoors

RG Hurricane top tips

• Think about your neighbours. Even if you’re not worried about the bulky items in your garden, they might be. In a storm, they can become dangerous projectiles, and the storm gods don’t discriminate whose garden they end up in, or whose windows they smash through.
• Prioritise dealing with your large pieces of outdoor furniture. If you leave it too late, you’ll be that guy dragging the patio table across the lawn in the pouring rain as the hurricane hurtles towards Bermuda. Don’t be that guy.
• If you’ve got a shed – use it! Load it with as much as your outdoor stuff as you can. It doesn’t matter how unwieldy it gets inside that shed for the next couple of days. But make sure your generator or barbecue equipment isn’t packed shoved away in the back corner. You might be needing them tomorrow!
• If you haven’t got a shed – use your home! The trampoline and barbecue might become annoying up obstacles in your living room, but that’s a step up from leaving them to the whim of the storm. Don’t be tempted to use the BBQ in the house though.
• Final bit of advice on the shed: tie it down with strong rope and sturdy fasteners. Nobody wants somebody else’s shed flying through their garden in the middle of a storm.

The post Sowing resilience appeared first on RG Magazines.

PHC Majorettes and Drum Corps was founded in 2002 by director Tawana Lee and her mother, Bettyann Nolan, after the closure of Warwick United Majorettes, who had been in existence since 1970.

Their aim was precise. Keep the majorette and drum corps tradition active, and build a programme rooted in community, connected to Pembroke Hamilton Club, and shaped by family leadership and hard work.

The organisation took shape during a period when many Bermudian families were looking for stability and positive options for youth. There were broader social concerns, including anxiety about crime, limited policing resources, and uncertainty in the education system. PHCMDC was built as more than a parade group. Fundraising was part of the foundation, so cost would not be the reason a young person sat out. Priorities were access, discipline and a place to develop talent outside the usual pathways.

The early years were organised and demanding. Tawana and her mother set the structure and built a well-supported leadership model. Rehearsals became the weekly anchor, with additional practices on Saturdays as major events approached.

Growth and success

PHCMDC’s first Bermuda Day Parade in May 2003 brought an unexpected surge. Membership grew to about 180 in the first year, and sections were set up to support different ages and skill levels, including Precious Pom Poms, Junior Cutie Majorettes, Senior Diva Majorettes, Fabulous Flags, and the Dynamic Drum Corps.

Like many Black community organisations building programmes with limited resources, PHCMDC had to solve practical problems as it grew. The demolition of the club hall and bar made it harder to coordinate rehearsals. Temporary spaces were utilised, including Spice Valley Middle School and the Bermuda Industrial Union Hall. The Drum Corps faced limitations due to noise and storage needs, which led to creative arrangements at Tawana’s home and full-group outdoor practices.

By 2005, the group’s standards were being recognised. PHCMDC won Best Uniform in the Dance Groups category at the Bermuda Day Parade, remembered for its pink and lime green costumes. PHCMDC also became the first Bermudian majorette and drum corps to perform aboard the Carnival Cruise Line Fascination. The group travelled to Orlando for Disney World’s musical parade and workshops and performed at venues including Wet ‘n Wild and Universal Studios.

Travel was never just a trip. It became part of the training. PHCMDC marched in the Washington, DC Independence Day Parade, completing the route in intense heat without breaks, an experience leaders continue to reference when teaching endurance, focus and commitment.

At home, PHCMDC has remained a steady presence in Bermudian cultural life. The group has performed at the Annual Gombey Festival, the Bermuda Agriculture Exhibition and the Bermuda Day, Labour Day and Christmas parades. They have brought performances to senior residences, churches, school fairs, sports events and community celebrations.

Each term, preparation becomes visible in the Cedar Hill neighbourhood through practice marches, which effectively provides a mini parade for elders and residents who may not be able to attend the real thing. The relationship with the community stays grounded in real contact.

Over time, PHCMDC has adjusted to changes in what draws young people, without abandoning its core identity. Traditional majorettes and the drum corps remain central, while additional sections have created more entry points, including Ribbon Dancers, Hoop Twirlers, flag dancers and pom pom groups. The approach is practical. Build confidence, develop performance habits and allow members to find where they fit while staying connected to the broader team.

Sustaining the programme has also depended on relationships and community support. PHCMDC has maintained a relationship with Enstar Bermuda, with support tied to equipment needs and leadership development, and has worked with drum teacher Nick Wadson, offering music theory and practical drum lessons.

Tawana Lee’s leadership is central to the culture. She describes her role as wider than directing routines. It includes mentoring, solving problems, building confidence and setting expectations that young people can carry beyond performance.

That impact shows up in the stories of members who have moved into wider opportunities. Divine Turner began as a Precious Pom Pom girl, carried that foundation into cheerleading and performance in the United States, and is now a professional dancer for the Atlanta Hawks. Aden Peets joined the Drum Corps young, earned the PHC Scholarship, pursued music production, and now teaches music in Bermuda while working with the Department of Culture.

PHCMDC has also invested in continuity through its Future Leaders Programme, where mentees spend a year learning under an established leader.

Familiar challenges

Funding has not been consistent, visibility has often been tied too narrowly to Bermuda Day, and membership declined as dance groups expanded and traditional majorette culture became less common. PHCMDC responded with outreach and education, including school presentations and Heritage Month engagements, introducing young people to a tradition many had never seen up close. A 2022 collaboration and fundraising campaign with Cassine provided timely support and helped strengthen the organisation’s ability to keep operating.

Some moments capture what PHCMDC represents. Tawana highlights performances at White Hill Field before the club’s demolition and at the Shelly Bay Extravaganza in 2010, when the group surprised audiences by having majorettes transition into drummers and present an original drum composition. In June 2025, she returned to Shelly Bay Field and performed on drums alongside her three sons. For many in the crowd, it was more than a performance. It was a statement about family, tradition and the way Black community organisations pass culture forward through participation.

As PHCMDC looks toward its 25th anniversary in 2027, Tawana’s vision includes building a full instrumental band. She is inviting woodwind players, percussionists, singers, and anyone committed to music and tradition to be part of that milestone. She also wants to keep strengthening the Future Leaders Programme.

PHCMDC’s story sits within a larger Bermudian legacy. Black community organisations have long carried culture, created structure for young people, and built spaces where talent can be trained and protected. PHC Majorettes and Drum Corps is part of that legacy because it has kept showing up, term after term, building discipline, building confidence and maintaining a tradition visible in public life.

• Bermuda is proud of all our Majorette groups. If you would like your group to feature in RG Mags, email [email protected]

The post Tradition, discipline, opportunity appeared first on RG Magazines.

Less trimming. Fewer perfectly edged hedges. A little more space left to grow, to flower, to exist without constant intervention.

It may not be the norm yet. But it is a direction worth moving towards.

Back to the 80s, when you would run through the grass and pick dandelions, Bermudianas and the wild lilies that would sprout after the rain, when you could pick stinging nettles for your mother to boil for tea.

Somewhere along the way, that changed.

Lawns became tighter. Edges sharper. Spaces are more controlled. The use of pesticides on sidewalks became commonplace, with no regard for runoff into the ocean. And in that shift, much of what once supported Bermuda’s natural life quietly disappeared.

Although much has been lost, and some things may never fully return, there is space for recovery.

Reversing that shift starts with how we choose to care for the spaces around us.

According to Heather Bottelli of the Bermuda Audubon Society, restoring that balance does not require a complete overhaul. It starts with small, intentional changes at home, one person at a time, one home at a time.

“Biodiversity isn’t just a word,” she explained. “It’s something we can act on.”

She said Bermuda’s native and endemic plants developed over hundreds of thousands of years, carried by wind, ocean currents and migrating birds, and that these plants continue to support both resident and migratory species today by providing food sources such as berries, nectar and insects.

Ms Bottelli emphasised that Bermuda plays an important role as a mid-Atlantic refuge for migratory birds, particularly as global bird populations face increasing pressure due to habitat loss.

In practical terms, that means rethinking what a garden is meant to do. It is not only about how it looks. It is about what it supports.

The idea of a “well-manicured lawn” was not always the norm.

Lawns were born out of 17th century British aristocratic culture. Wealthy landowners kept large areas of land just for grass to show they did not need to use it to grow food. It was wealth visibility without sustainability.

In Bermuda, in years gone by, communities lived close to the water, relying on fishing and the land for sustenance. Yet they were abruptly moved to make way for hotels and golf courses that supported the exponential growth of the tourism industry. Well-manicured landscapes and golf courses replaced working land.

Planting native and endemic species is one of the most effective ways to begin restoring function to the spaces around us, while confronting issues of access and equity in how land is owned and used.

Planting native, endemic and compatible species is one of the most effective ways to attract wildlife, particularly butterflies, bees and birds.

“Milkweed and lantana provide nectar for butterflies,” Ms Bottelli said, “while Darrell’s Fleabane, an endemic plant, supports bees.” She added that hummingbirds are drawn to red, tubular flowers such as salvia and honeysuckle during their migration.

Even plants that are often pulled out or cut back too quickly have value. “Thistles, dandelions, and goldenrod provide important food sources for birds,” Ms Bottelli noted.

She said birdbaths can make a difference, as long has they’re kept clean and positioned away from predators. Small ponds can further support wildlife by creating habitats for insects, which in turn become food for birds.

Ms Bottelli added: “Lizards and tree frogs help control insect populations, feeding on ants and mosquitoes. Ladybugs reduce aphids and thrips, although their numbers appear to be declining, likely due to pesticide use. Wasps serve as both pollinators and natural pest control. Even spiders play a role by managing unwanted insects.

“Each species contributes to balance and removing one element can have wider effects.”

The post From manicured to meaningful appeared first on RG Magazines.

If you want a Bermuda garden that feels like Bermuda, going endemic is not a trend, it is a decision.

It decides whether your Sunday afternoon is spent battling plants that thrive on takeover or building a garden around species that evolved for this limestone, this salt air, this wind, and the wildlife that depends on them.

For gardeners, the first hurdle is misunderstanding.

Myles Darrell, head of national heritage at Bermuda National Trust, said: “One of the most common misconceptions is that Bermuda’s native and endemic plants grow slowly or struggle to establish.

“In reality, many of them grow very quickly when planted in the right conditions.”

He points to the Bermuda cedar as proof.

Another misconception is that native plants are less attractive than imported ornamentals. “That simply isn’t the case.”

Mr Darrell loves the coastal sophora for its bright yellow flowers and its ability to thrive in windy coastal conditions where many imported plants fail.

The practical argument is straightforward: landscapes built around native and endemic plants can be established quickly, require less maintenance, and stay resilient in Bermuda’s climate.

If you have ever wondered what restoration looks like beyond a before-and-after photo, Mr Darrell describes it as a living shift you can feel.

When a site begins to recover, it is the small signals that matter. Native plants returning. Birds and insects are using the space again. Sunlight reaches the forest floor, where invasive vines once smothered everything.

“Walking through a restored landscape genuinely makes me a little giddy,” Mr Darrell said. He imagines what the space could look like 10 or 20 years from now, “if the work continues.” It is a hope with dirt under its nails.

The Rebecca Middleton Nature Reserve in Paget shows what “continue” looks like in real time.

When restoration began, the reserve was heavily dominated by invasives, particularly balloon vine. Anyone who has fought balloon vine knows it does not politely share. It races, climbs and chokes. With consistent work and community support, Mr Darrell says the transformation has been remarkable.

Today, more than 60 per cent of the reserve is dominated by native and endemic species. Trails are accessible again. Biodiversity has increased. Just as important, the community uses the space.

“When people begin to take pride in a restored landscape, that’s when conservation truly succeeds.”

This is why invasives are not just a gardening nuisance. Mr Darrell calls them “one of the most serious environmental threats Bermuda faces”.

They displace ecosystems that evolved here naturally, turning diverse habitats into dense monocultures that support far less wildlife. They change the land’s look and function. They even affect our coastlines. Casuarina, he notes, often falls during storms and can take sections of coastline with it. When invasive plants replace healthy native ecosystems, our natural resilience weakens, at the exact moment climate impacts are growing.

If you want the perfect Bermuda garden specifically for your home space and you are not sure where to start, visit a nature reserve with a notebook, pay attention to what thrives without constant intervention, and build from there.

And if you want to go beyond your fence line, reach out to organisations doing this work, including the Bermuda National Trust, and join in on restoration efforts or education programmes already underway.

The post Get your hands dirty and go endemic appeared first on RG Magazines.

A thin tent has been set up, hardly enough to veil anyone from the burning sun, already piercing through the white pavement in the early part of the afternoon. The microphones are in place. The press has already arrived and is getting into position before the programme begins. Today, several new affordable homes are being opened at Harmony Hall.

I take one extra look to ensure that I have all my equipment, careful not to rush, as I already feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I pause for a moment, steady myself, and look up.

The first face that I see, standing in front of the newly completed homes, is Dimitrius Richardson.

He is young, focused and clearly in his element. Not there to run the event, but there because the work being announced is tied to the work that he is part of. He stands nearby, attentive in a way that tells you he understands what this moment means beyond the cameras. This is not just a photo opportunity. It is work completed. A programme moving from plans on paper to real homes, now standing, and people in dire circumstances are now one step closer to having a comfortable roof over their heads.

Mr Richardson looks at me with quiet confidence, comfortable in his work and calm in the middle of the bustle. Watching him, I find myself curious. Not only about his place within the Government’s affordable housing work, but about the path that brought him here so early.

Building a skillset

This curiosity later led me to speak with Mr Richardson, who currently serves as a project manager intern at the Bermudian Housing Corporation while studying for a Bachelor of Arts with honours in architecture at Kingston University, London.

“My academic training and professional responsibilities work hand in hand,” he says, “allowing me to apply architectural theory to real-world housing and infrastructure projects in Bermuda.”

His entry into this work began with the summer seasons, which turned into something steadier. He traces it back to the Ministry of Public Works summer programme, where he was introduced to Bermuda’s construction industry by working alongside the Engineering and Estates Departments. He did not stay in one corner of the Department, however.

“I intentionally immersed myself across multiple disciplines to gain professional direction and consistent exposure to how Bermuda’s infrastructure operates,” he explains.

“Each summer built on the last, allowing me to apply new techniques, strengthen my understanding of the construction processes, and form professional relationships across government ministries.”

That continuity, combined with the effort he put in each summer, led to his current role at the Bermudian Housing Corporation.

“On a day-to-day basis, my role includes scheduled site visits, developing and reviewing design portfolios, managing design iterations and overseeing construction contracts and ongoing works,” Mr Richardson says.

“I also coordinate contractor activities, order materials, liaise with fellow project managers and provide weekly progress updates.”

It is a hands-on role, with little room for delay or missed details.

Meeting needs

For Mr Richardson, the current affordable housing initiative matters because it responds to Bermuda’s housing crisis.

“The current Government’s affordable housing initiative represents a meaningful opportunity to respond to Bermuda’s housing challenges in a practical and forward-thinking way,” he says.

“It introduces construction approaches that allow for faster delivery while maintaining quality and dignity in housing design.”

He sees speed as part of meeting demand, without lowering standards.

“By utilising simple, robust fabrication methods, the initiative enables purpose-built homes to be delivered efficiently and, where necessary, relocated to suit community needs,” he adds, noting that it encourages new ways of thinking about how Bermuda builds.

The work has also shaped how he approaches design.

“Working on this initiative has reinforced a personal responsibility for designing for communities,” he says.

“It has encouraged me to approach my work with urgency, accountability and confidence in proposing solutions that genuinely address community needs.”

He believes Bermuda’s culture and standards should be visible in what is built.

“It has also challenged me to design in a way that reflects Bermuda’s culture, individuality, and standards, without limiting innovation,” he says. “What we create today sets the benchmark for tomorrow.”

When the conversation turns to young men in Bermuda and the lore of drugs and gang violence, Mr Richardson is clear that the concerns are real, but the stereotype is incomplete.

“Many young Bermudian men are excelling, breaking barriers and contributing positively both locally and globally,” he says.

He points to opportunity and choice.

“Opportunities for mentorship and growth exist in abundance,” he says. “However, young people must actively step into them and choose to rise above their environments and negative choices.”

He also reflects on his own learning curve.

“I addressed this by seeking guidance from Bermudian mentors, tutors and industry professionals,” he says. “They encouraged me to focus on process and execution.”

Moving to London, he adds, gave him “a fresh start” and helped him develop “structured workflows and practical design methods”.

He puts it plainly. “I learned that ideas only gain value through action.”

His message to young Bermudians is direct. “Bermuda belongs to you, and your opportunity is often closer than you think,” he says. “Use who you are, your background and perspective as an asset rather than a limitation.”

Thinking back to Harmony Hall, where the sun was beaming down upon my head that day, my focus was on the tent, the microphones, the speeches, and the cameras. But the day was so much more than that. It was about celebrating the newly constructed houses standing behind it all. Homes completed. Real space. Real relief.

And in the middle of it, a young Bermudian professional, supporting the process responsibly, working alongside his team and learning from others so that Bermudians in vulnerable circumstances could have a place to call home. The future is bright for Bermuda in construction and we as readers look towards

The post Rising star in construction appeared first on RG Magazines.

For many of us, if not most, our 40s and 50s are when we finally come into ourselves, love ourselves more deeply, and honour our own unique beauty without apology.

In our 30s, stretch marks were something to hide, a flaw. Nowadays, they are tiger stripes, because you are “that hunter”.

The mistakes you made in your earlier years, you are learning to forgive yourself for, not as denial, but as growth, learning and acceptance.

Lisa Wingood understands this from the inside. A mother of two, a certified yoga teacher, and an organisational development advisor at Bermuda Hospitals Board, she speaks about the second half of life not as a descent, but as a widening.

“I’m a creative and compassionate person who values connection, wellness and authentic expression,” she said.

“I find peace in nature, especially the ocean, and joy in being a mother to my two beautiful daughters. I’m passionate about creativity in all forms, whether through art, facilitation, travel, food, or simply bringing colour and intention into everyday life.”

Ms Wingood’s work is shaped by a devotion to transition, to the sacred in-between.

“I’ve always loved supporting people through life’s changes, whether it’s through yoga, meditation, mindfulness, or simply bringing people together to connect and have fun,” she said.

“For me, it’s about creating spaces where people feel safe enough to grow both inwardly and outwardly.”

Cultural freedom

Safe enough. Those two words hold a whole world for women. Safety is not only physical. It is emotional. It is cultural. It is the freedom to be complex without being punished for it. The freedom to soften without being dismissed. The freedom to be powerful without being stereotyped. For women moving through spaces where race and gender shape how they are perceived, safety is often the missing ingredient, the thing that allows a woman to put down her armour long enough to breathe.

When the conversation turned to the idea that women should slow down as they age, Ms Wingood flipped the script with calm certainty.

“I’ve actually experienced the opposite; the second half of my life has been an acceleration,” she said. “I became a yoga instructor in my late 50s, which felt both brave and liberating.”

Like many women, midlife is when their own lives are just beginning. The world may expect you to quiet down, to become smaller and more “settled,” but midlife often brings the opposite: clarity, courage and the self-granted permission to live on your own terms. This is the time when the curtain on the stage of life is lifting for ‘Act Two’ to begin. You already know the lines. You’re stronger and wiser. As you tiptoe onto the stage of life, you approach it, not timidly as you did as a teen but deliberately, knowingly taking up space with your presence and announcing to the world that “I am here”.

Ms Wingood listed what that acceleration has looked like: improv classes, kayaking, jewellery making, jumping off bridges and creating her own essential oil body butters.

Exploring new things

But what makes her perspective land is her refusal of the cultural script that tells women to shrink.

“I don’t see aging as a time to shrink, I see it as a time to expand,” she said. “Slowing down, to me, isn’t about numbers; it’s about spirit. As long as there’s life in the body, there’s something new to explore.”

That is not just a motivational line. It is a spiritual orientation. It is the insistence that aliveness is not owned by youth, and that womanhood is not a countdown clock. For women who have spent years being the backbone of families and communities, expansion can mean finally choosing pleasure without guilt, choosing rest without apology, choosing joy without needing to justify it.

Midlife is a time when we can return to the self that existed before the world’s demands became so loud. A season where you stop measuring your worth by how much you carry, and start asking what, and who, carries you.

Still, expansion requires rhythm, not relentless motion.

“To avoid burnout, I intentionally take a pause to be still and reflective in between my activities,” Ms Wingood said.

“Rest and rejuvenation are essential. It’s often in those quiet pauses that creativity sparks and life surges forward again. I’ve learned how to lean into the ebb and flow of life!”

That shift matters for all women. It matters especially for Black women and women of colour, whose womanhood is too often framed through endurance rather than joy. When you are raised to be “strong” as a default, slowing down is not always restful. 

During this time, many women discover that spirituality becomes less about performance and more about alignment. Less about proving, more about being.

Ms Wingood described the mindset shifts she sees as most powerful: “Creating balance, embracing change, being at one with yourself, and staying curious while relying on your internal wisdom.”

She also grounds that wisdom in daily practice, naming breath, nourishment and prayer as forms of self-respect.

Her approach is not about chasing perfection. It is about coming back to yourself. Again, and again. In her own teaching, she believes leadership starts with how you show up.

Community matters, too, because not every woman has been taught how to be held.

“Women who have trusted, supportive circles can step more courageously into the next phase of life,” Ms Wingood said.

“Sisterhood matters, it fosters community, collaboration and connection but it begins with cultivating trust, respect and love for each other.”

In the end, her message is not about denying the realities of aging. It is about refusing to let those realities define the limits of a woman’s life. The second half is a sacred season, not because everything is easy, but because you finally understand what matters. You learn to rest without guilt. You learn to move without apology. You learn to choose yourself, again and again, with clarity, with spirit, and always, with love.

The post Expanding, not shrinking appeared first on RG Magazines.

Today, he is a senior at the University of Guelph in Canada, completing an honours degree in economics.

Next year, he plans to take another step abroad with a master’s programme at the University of Bristol.

It is a confident plan, but his route to this point was never predictable.

Mr Kessell, 23, grew up in Bermuda and spent his high school years in a small homeschool community. Depending on the year, the group had about 15 to 20 students. Their days were structured but compact, typically running from morning until about 1pm. Lessons were built around workbooks or online programmes, followed by independent learning and whatever else the afternoon had in store.

For young Heston, that rhythm mattered. It created space for him to flourish. 

Homeschooling was not framed as an experiment in being different. It was a practical decision rooted in care and realism.

“My mom just wanted me to have the best education possible,” he said. “Private school wasn’t an option for us, so she tried to explore all the alternatives.”

A couple of his friends were already in the homeschool group and spoke highly of it

 “We decided to try it and just recognised that if it didn’t seem like a good fit, then we could always make a change,” he said

It worked. Even so, Mr Kessell does not romanticise it.

“There were probably some social aspects of a traditional school experience that I missed,” he said.

“The homeschool group was much smaller than any other school, so naturally I was around a smaller pool of people every day.”

But he does not describe those years as isolating.

Exploring interests

“Despite that, I made great friends both at the homeschool group and at other schools.”

The biggest gain was having agency over his own learning path. “I was always naturally curious and motivated to learn on my own,” he said.

“The extra time outside of school let me explore my own interests in topics like computer programming, which ultimately became very useful later on.”

When he switched to Bermuda College, the adjustment was not the shock people might expect.

“I think homeschool somewhat prepared me for Bermuda College, as they both require a lot of independent learning,” he said. 

While he was there, he found a pathway into Bermuda’s international business world.

“I stumbled into the ILS Bermuda College Initiative and got my first exposure to Bermuda’s international business sector,” Mr Kessell said.

“It was through that programme that I learned about all the opportunities to work in re/insurance or professional services and set my sights on trying to enter that world.”

He also realised that finishing my degree overseas was a real option.

From there, he started making choices with transfer in mind. “Academically, I tried to choose courses at Bermuda College that I knew would transfer into an overseas program,” he said.

“Since I didn’t go to a normal high school and didn’t have standardised exams like GCSEs, I was also relying solely on my Bermuda College transcript to apply to universities.”

He also credits the college’s practical guidance in walking him through their articulation agreements with other schools.

Scholarships made the move possible, and he did not leave that to chance.

“Initially, I worried that my non-traditional educational background might put me at a disadvantage in scholarship applications,” he said.

“So, I focused on distinguishing myself in other ways, mainly by showing consistent initiative and engagement with the insurance industry, which was offering the scholarships.

“Once I knew the path I wanted, I fully committed to becoming an ideal scholarship candidate. Any free time I had outside of college or work, I used to attend networking events or study to complete insurance designations, like the associate of reinsurance.”

He also built relationships deliberately.

“Whenever I met someone, I made a point of following up with a short thank-you note and a LinkedIn connection request,” he said.

“A mentor’s advice also led me to start working towards professional designations, which really helped mark my dedication to the industry.

“By the time I applied for scholarships, I had managed to finish two professional courses that I could add to my resume.”

He does not tell the story as a solo effort.

“I’ve been helped by a lot of people along the way, and I wouldn’t have made it half as far without their advice and guidance,” he said. “I try to show that gratitude and to stay intentional about building and maintaining relationships.”

Economics – which became a passion at Bermuda College – has remained the centre of the story at university.

“I had an incredible economics lecturer, Craig Simmons, whose lectures helped transform my interest into something deeper,” he said.

“My conversations with Craig showed me that economics is a field uniquely good at developing paradigms and mental models for evaluating scenarios and making optimal decisions.”

Paying thanks

Mr Kessell reflected on the support of his family and community, particularly Bermuda College, the ILS Bermuda College Initiative, and Bermuda Foundation for Insurance Studies.

He added: “I’d also like to thank Ernst and Young, the Association of Bermuda International Companies, and L&F Indemnity Limited for their generosity and support through scholarships. Without their support, I wouldn’t be in university today.”

Mr Kessell’s education journey may seem unique in our little island of Bermuda. But perhaps it should not be. Perhaps other students who struggled in the traditional classroom, or those labelled “problem students,” might have had a better chance of succeeding if they had been offered the same kind of option.

There is a moment in a child’s life when they first pick up a crayon with chubby fingers, gripping it in a balled-up fist. Whatever they create, their parents love it. That same child, years later, is scolded for “colouring outside the lines”.

Maybe that is the wrong lesson.

Maybe not all of us were meant to produce strait-laced work that fits neatly into a familiar picture, the yellow sun in the corner, the red cottage in the middle, the green grass underneath. Maybe, like Mr Kessell, the freedom to draw outside the lines is exactly what supports one’s journey on the path to success, not just through school, but into a life that finally fits.

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He is preparing to begin doctoral study in earth sciences at the University of Oxford, where he will work with Dr Erin Saupe in paleobiology, exploring how deep time can inform modern conservation.

For Mr Da Silva, that global opportunity does not pull him away from Bermuda. It sharpens his focus on it.

“Warwick is, in my opinion, the greatest parish,” he said. “There’s so much life and nature around us.”

His family home was surrounded by forests and hills.

“My brother and I romped through them on weekends and in the summer.”

His connection to Bermuda is also cultural and deeply familial.

Boxing Day is when “the entire Da Silva clan descends upon one unfortunate person’s house for a big Portuguese family celebration”.

As a child, he “used to fear these days for cleaning required,” but now, “they’re one of my favourite times of the year.”

Some memories still make him grin.

On his birthday at Warwick Academy, he walked outside and found “three tiny hens on the front porch” and he “didn’t leave them for a few hours”.

After that, chickens became part of home life. “I loved taking care of them, collecting eggs and lying down with them in the sun below the palm trees,” he said.

Mr Da Silva’s interests have always stretched beyond the strictly scientific.

“One of my favourite things to do, and what informs my scientific career, is my love of storytelling,” he said. “I love performing and acting, especially in musicals, writing and building worlds out of nothing.”

It is not hard to see how that imagination translates into research. The ability to hold a story together is also the ability to see patterns, ask better questions, and keep going when the answers are not obvious.

Compelling journey of education

That mix of wonder and discipline carries through his education.

He studied at Warwick Academy from primary through secondary school, focusing on sciences and geography during IGCSE and IB, before four years at Dartmouth College shaped by field programmes in the American West for geology and in Costa Rica for ecological research.

His research life has been anything but small. Over the summer, Mr Da Silva spent a month in the Gobi Desert of Mongolia, drilling rock cores and excavating dinosaurs.

Much of his work now involves analysing those cores for their magnetic elements, building a record of rock formations and time.

Then, when his day’s tasks end, Bermuda comes back into view.

“I haven’t left my Bermudian research behind,” he said. “After I’ve finished my Mongolian tasks, I spend my nights in the Dartmouth soil laboratories, looking at Bermudian soil geochemistry and surveying snail species and populations. I’m in constant contact with Bermudian conservationists about my findings.”

Vital research

His Bermudian work centres on micro snails and the environmental conditions that allow them to survive. They are so small that most people never notice them, yet their decline can signal broader stress on habitats and the balance of ecosystems.

“My thesis demonstrated that soil type, rather than forest tree species, was the main reason why snails inhabited certain parts of the island,” he said.

“This disproves previous hypotheses that invasive trees led to the snails’ downfall. I think the true culprit is more complex.”

That conclusion is practical. It shifts conservation away from assumptions and toward targeted protection based on what is happening in Bermuda’s ground conditions. It also demonstrates one of the clearest ways Bermuda’s environment can benefit from Mr Da Silva’s skills and knowledge.

Bermuda needs conservation decisions grounded in Bermuda-based evidence. Mr Da Silva’s research adds that precision by identifying where threatened species persist, what conditions make those habitats viable, and how quickly invasive species are spreading. On an island with limited land and constant pressure on open space, that level of detail supports better prioritisation, stronger management plans, and faster responses when new information emerges.

His surveys underline the urgency.

“Our micro snails are in a dire situation,” he said.

“The majority of our endemic and native species are confined to small snail refuges across the island.”

He added: “Invasive micro snail species are colonising the island at speed.”

The evidence has already helped move Bermuda from uncertainty to action.

“This evidence helped demonstrate that endemic micro snails do in fact exist and in which environments they occur,” he explained, “leading the Department of Conservation to quickly move to lay down protections, as they couldn’t confirm this information beforehand.”

He is also involved in work focused on Vertigo micro snails.

“The conservation plan for Vertigo micro snails is just getting started!” he said. Their presence has been highlighted to the government and the Parks Planning Commission, and Mr Da Silva noted that a zipline slated for development in their Southlands refuge was grounded, with development halted in that area. “Soon, we’ll be securing Vertigo under the Protected Species Act,” he said.

After that, the work becomes long-term stewardship through a conservation management plan “to detail how their habitat will be preserved and sustained”.

He has also spoken about continuing Bermuda’s partnership with Chester Zoo and exploring breeding programs aimed at reintroducing these snails to other parts of the island.

Mr Da Silva is careful to frame the work as collective. “This project couldn’t have succeeded at all without the support of BZS, BAMZ and Dartmouth collaborators being willing to step in.”

As Oxford approaches, his ambition sounds less like escape and more like duty.

“When I was younger and only cared about dinosaurs, I figured I’d catch the first plane to Mongolia and stay far, far away from the island,” he said. “That’s not the case anymore.”

There is plenty in Noah Da Silva’s story to admire, Rhodes, Oxford, Mongolia. But the most inspiring part is the direction of his attention. It keeps returning to Bermuda, to the places where the stakes are real and the margins are small. He is building knowledge that can protect habitat, strengthen planning decisions, and give endangered species a better chance.

The post Warwick roots, Oxford reach appeared first on RG Magazines.

For Dr Sabrina Famous and Dr Ayesha Peets Talbot, it is not just a medical practice – it is a decade-long commitment to helping women find answers.

Ocean Rock specialises in root cause solutions and holistic treatment plans, and the doctors’ days are shaped as much by conversation as by clinical work.

Yet even with a decade of practice ownership under their belts and the results they see in their clients every day, there is still an age-old question that follows many women in medicine: do some people still see this profession as a man’s job?

In 2026, Dr Famous and Dr Peets Talbot say that perception has not disappeared. It has simply become more subtle, showing up in who is in the room, who is assumed to be the leader, and how women doctors are spoken to before their expertise is even considered.

For both doctors, the first major hurdle was getting accepted into medical school. They describe the pathway as demanding and competitive, with no room for drifting.

“When we first entered medicine, the main hurdle was getting accepted into a medical school,” Dr Famous said.

“It continues to be a competitive field of study; therefore, you have to be exceptional and be very focused in your high school and undergraduate studies.”

Pathways shaped by race and gender

Their routes into medicine were different, but the stakes were the same. Dr Famous remembers the intensity when she studied in Trinidad, her mother’s home country.

“The training in Trinidad was very rigorous and competitive,” she said. “We both felt the pressure to do our very best no matter what.”

Dr Peets Talbot was trained in the United States and recalls how early she understood that race and gender would shape the experience.

“From the minute I interviewed for medical school, I knew my race and gender were going to be a driving force for which I would attend,” she said.

She describes being caught between two systems, both shaped by race in different ways.

“At that time, the majority of White medical schools were looking for a certain number of Black students to fill their minority quotas, and the historically Black medical schools were looking for the best minority students to continue to have a competitive rating as a school,” she said.

Years of training and experience do not eliminate stereotypes. They simply shift the form they take.

“The biggest stereotype we run into these days is looking young for our specialty and expertise,” Dr Famous said.

She recalls a moment at a corporate event that still makes her laugh. “One of the attendees said, ‘Geesh, you look so young, but you are old enough to be my mama!’”

Dr Peets Talbot knows the experience well. “I remember being constantly questioned about my age when I first started seeing patients on my own,” she said. “It is less of an issue now thanks to a little grey hair.”

They tend to respond with humour, and both say it is more of a compliment than an insult these days. But the broader pressure is the constant juggle of professional leadership alongside family life.

“The main challenge we find is juggling a medical practice and being a mother to small children,” Dr Peets Talbot said.

“Since we started Ocean Rock Wellness ten years ago, we have had five kids collectively.”

Asked whether the old idea still shows up in Bermuda, their answer is blunt.

“And those people are right,” Dr Famous said. “It is a man’s profession.”

Dr Peets Talbot agrees, pointing to what they see upon entering professional spaces.

“We have been to many classrooms, meetings and conferences and found ourselves to be amongst a sea of men,” she said.

“Yes, women are there, and sometimes are presenting and leading the conference, but the majority of the attendees tend to be males.”

They believe Bermuda reflects this too, in part because of the realities women doctors often carry outside the clinic.

“To some degree, we can see this in Bermuda,” Dr Famous said. “I believe that this is related to many of the women doctors in Bermuda juggling motherhood as well.”

Dr Peets Talbot added: “It is hard to position yourself as a leader in the medical community in Bermuda and juggling homework and bedtime routines.”

Staying power

Both doctors speak openly about applying their training to their own health, and about outcomes that surprised even them. Dr Famous recalls a time when she had very poor eyesight and was heavily dependent on her glasses but today does not wear glasses at all. Dr Peets Talbot remembers being told she would need glasses at 40 after laser-assisted eye surgery. Now in her 46th year, she notes her 20/20 vision is still going strong.

“We truly like to practise what we preach,” Dr Famous said. “The advice we give our clients is the advice we use in our everyday lives.”

Ten years in, they do not measure success by visibility alone. They measure it by staying power and by the change they see in others.

“Longevity,” Dr Peets Talbot said. “We are proud to still be here and relevant.”

Both doctors are aware of evidence, particularly in the US, showing Black women are more likely to be misdiagnosed, have their pain dismissed, or receive lower quality care. Their response is rooted in how they listen and how they build trust.

“As Black women ourselves, we understand this issue 100 per cent and we do not want to minimise the struggle that Black women have,” Dr Famous said.

“With the type of medicine we do, everyone that walks through the door is misdiagnosed,” Dr Peets Talbot said.

“Generally, until they meet and talk to us, they feel that they have never been given a clear answer to their medical symptoms or problems.”

For young Bermudian women considering medicine, it is not a fantasy. 

“Firstly, be sure that medicine aligns with your true purpose,” Dr Peets Talbot said. “If you are clear on that, the path will be tough, but you will love it.”

The post Two doctors, one mission appeared first on RG Magazines.

At the centre of that origin story are two men whose vision reached beyond the touchline. Edward DeJean, the school’s principal, and Braxton Burgess, a physical education teacher, believed sport could sharpen the mind as much as it strengthened the body.

Their all-boys team became one of the best in Bermuda, before progressing to practice matches against local men’s football teams, and then entering the Bermuda Football Union. A school team had been transformed into the beginnings of a football club with staying power.

This was not just about sport. It was community building in a society where exclusion and inequity were normalised, and where Black Bermudians had to create structures of support so their people could advance.

Much of what defined that era has shifted, but the need for Black led networks of mentorship, opportunity, and mutual aid has not disappeared. It remains part of how families, clubs and community organisations help young people navigate barriers and build futures.

Like many community stories in Bermuda, the club’s early years were shaped by movement and sacrifice. After the high school team years, many players went abroad to continue their studies. The team itself paused. But the connection did not break. Four years later, after completing their education, many of the original players came back together, bringing with them a renewed commitment to each other and to the idea that had first taken hold at Howard Academy.

Mutual support
They formed a group called The Mutual Associates. Members paid dues into the organisation with the objective of purchasing shares in Black businesses. That detail matters because it speaks to how Black organisations and Black enterprise have long supported each other in Bermuda. From that pool of contributions, they decided to use some of the money to restart Devonshire Colts and enter the second division of the Bermuda Football Union. They were rebuilding a club and strengthening a community at the same time.

From the beginning, Colts have never been limited to one sport. The same founding philosophy of combining sport with learning has carried through, and the club has seen success in both netball and bowling. Football has remained the heartbeat, but the broader message has always been present. Sport can open doors, but it also teaches you what to do once you’re inside.

That sense of purpose is exactly how the current president, Zuri Darrell, describes Devonshire Colts today.

“Devonshire Colts has been a staple in the Devonshire and Bermuda community by providing a safe place for young black men to grow in sport,” he said, “but also fostering educational opportunities and mentorship for all those parts of the DC family.”

Family affair

For Mr Darrell, the club’s longevity is not accidental. He points to a culture that has endured across decades, even as the sport and society around it have changed.

“The family atmosphere at DC has been key to its longevity and success,” he said.

That family identity is not just a feeling. It is how people relate to the club across generations. “It is everything at DC,” Mr Darrell said. “The family legacies and multi-generational participation cannot be emphasised enough. If you’re a Colt, you’re family. Family sticks together and is the bedrock of our existence.”

He hears it all the time from players and families.

“Many players say, ‘my daddy, or my uncle played for the Colts, this is my club’ or ‘the Colts is my family, family always supports each other’.”

The Colts have also evolved with changing times.

“We provide a sustainable youth programme that mentors young men and women, and we educate coaches and former players on the laws of the game to be able to give back. The DC family has always supported its members in their educational and vocational pursuits through scholarships.”

He also points to growth in girls’ programmes, including DC Diamonds netball and girls’ football at Under 7 and Under 9.

Mr Darrell notes that the Colts also support young people beyond sport, including helping in special situations, such as when youth members head off to college.

“We instil discipline by engaging in community projects and showing our young members that you must be well-rounded to succeed in life beyond football,” he said.

As I write this article and learn more about the history of Devonshire Colts, it is more than just another freelance project.

It brings back the legacy of my late uncle, Vic Ball (1949-2023), and the stories I grew up hearing about his time playing football.

Mr Darrell remembers Mr Ball as a leader who served the club as a player, coach, president and friend.
He shared one story. During a period of internal conflict, when a small group attempted to pull the club away from its founding principles and values, Mr Ball stepped in and steadied the club.

For me, it is a reminder of my Uncle Vic, as he always was: someone who looked out for people and had integrity in everything he did for his family, his work, and his community.

For my family, that continuity is not a metaphor. It runs from Uncle Vic to my youngest son. My youngest son, Rainn Ball-Burgess, plays for Devonshire Colts Under 11s, coached by Mr Darrell. In that small detail, you get a glimpse of the club’s larger story: the names and faces have changed throughout the decades, but the club’s purpose has held.

The club was evicted from its Frog Lane Field base when the North Field of the National Sports Centre was built, but its programmes continue through rented facilities and community partners.

As young players show up for a game on a Saturday morning, if you are keen, you may still see it: the past and the present meeting on one field.

Devonshire Colts Football Club remains a steady place where young people are seen, guided, and held to something bigger than themselves, a club that has spent decades teaching Bermuda’s young people how to show up on and off the field and take ownership not just in a club, but as active community participants.  

The post Devonshire Colts: A story of legacy and sport appeared first on RG Magazines.