By Camille Mc Millan Rambharat,
(Author, Advocate, Advisor)
As almost empty nesters, my husband and I enjoy watching a wide range of genres—documentaries, political intrigue, healthy living, faith, travel—you name it. Recently, we tuned into an episode featuring Chef Jamie Oliver, the renowned British chef and international culinary icon. We’ve always admired his ease and charisma in the kitchen, but this time, something far more profound stood out.
Jamie shared his personal journey—from discovering a love for cooking as a child to leaving school early because “traditional academics” didn’t work for him. Despite those early challenges, he went on to build a global culinary empire, with bestselling cookbooks, hit television shows, successful restaurants, and a powerful advocacy campaign to bring healthier food into school cafeterias. Yes. He also experienced huge failures!
From the outside, his life looks like a dream: successful, inspiring, and filled with accolades. But then Jamie revealed something deeply personal. When he was offered his first book deal—The Naked Chef— after his early TV success, he had to confront a long-hidden truth: he couldn’t read fluently or write. He admitted to having to learn those basic skills as an adult, well after laying the foundation of his career.
That moment of vulnerability stopped me in my tracks. It was a reminder that success doesn’t always follow a straight line. It doesn’t require perfection or waiting until everything is “in order.” It requires timing, courage, persistence, and the willingness to grow along the way.
Jamie’s story is not only inspiring—it’s necessary. Especially for young people who may feel discouraged because they learn differently or don’t thrive in traditional academic environments. Especially also for older people who feel excluded from a world that is rapidly changing. Imagine if Jamie had waited until he was confident in his reading and writing before pursuing his dreams. Worse yet: imagine if his challenges killed his dreams. The world may have missed out on one of the most influential culinary voices of our time.
It also made me reflect on how we treat learners who don’t fit the mould. Are our leaders, schools, counsellors, and parents truly equipped to support students who develop at different paces? Too often, the system is designed to move specific children through a narrow pipeline, overlooking those who need a different path or more time to succeed.
Sitting in meetings with Subject Matter Experts (SMEs), I’ve heard thoughtful conversations about the role of trades education in meeting learners where they are. On the other hand, I heard a Minister responsible for youth say skilled trades are for those not academically inclined. Really? There’s a growing call to integrate soft skills—like communication, resilience, and collaboration—into the trades curriculum. Are we encouraging more boys to see cooking not just as a domestic task, but as a creative, respected, and rewarding career?
These questions matter. Because just like Jamie, there are young people with untapped brilliance—waiting for someone—especially leaders and parents—to believe in them before they can believe in themselves. And like Jamie, they shouldn’t have to wait until they’re ‘perfect’ to begin. They just need the right opportunity and the right support.
Last week, I explored a phrase many Caribbean parents and educators often say: “You better learn a trade.” Once used as a warning to struggling students, it may actually hold the key to unlocking a future of empowerment, possibility, and purpose.
“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” — Eleanor Roosevel