written by Scarlet Ibis James
When I learned that my short story, “Adeline’s Sacrifice,” had won first place in the Humans of the World Fall Short Story Contest, joy rose quickly and fully. I immediately emailed Amanda and Teresa, fellow writers who had kept nudging me.
“Send it. This story deserves daylight,” Amanda and Teresa said.
“Scarlet, congratulations! You’re an amazing writer. Keep it up—so many more stories to tell and prizes waiting for you!” Teresa said.
“Massive congrats! You know I loved that story,” Amanda added.
Is it any wonder I love this writer community?
The win came after rejection. Earlier this year, I submitted a story about a young, enslaved Caribbean mother who brews an ancestral potion to free her newborn’s spirit and send him across the ocean to warn their people. I was not on the list of finalists. Then they announced the winner—and it was not me. That “no” stung.
I developed the story during a Fellowship of the Griots writing workshop, a welcoming space where Black and Brown writers grow through thoughtful prompts, shared approaches to craft, and accountability to one another. The fellowship’s prompts about folklore and vampires awakened memories of my recent trip to Ghana, where I learned about young women taken by enslavers.
From the slave girls’ point of view, Elmina Castle, Ghana (2025)
Why Ghana, you ask? My husband and I take turns planning our anniversary trips, and this year it was my turn. We had already traveled through the U.K., the Caribbean, North America, and Central America. I felt a calling to Africa. I wanted to visit places “from whence I came.” Years earlier, AncestryDNA found that my roots trace primarily to Nigeria and Ghana. We decided to begin with Ghana.
We didn’t go to collect experiences or check boxes. We went to listen, to learn, and to sit with our history. Being there felt less like a vacation and more like a homecoming.
Another anniversary trip shaped the story in a different way. A few years ago, we traveled to Antigua and visited Devil’s Bridge, a watery cemetery where enslaved people leapt to their deaths, believing their souls would return to Africa. That place overwhelmed me.
It was a stark reminder of the Caribbean’s brutal history. At Devil’s Bridge, I could almost feel those who once stood at the edge 300 years ago—having survived the Middle Passage and choosing death over enslavement. I imagined our ancestors and spirits showing them a final path toward freedom. I gingerly stepped over the rocks, my husband murmuring, “Careful.”
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I will never forget these journeys. Adeline took shape at the intersection of lived experience, memory, and ancestral recollection.
Yet Adeline’s Sacrifice initially fell on eyes that couldn’t see its value. Rejection is part of being a creator. I had to accept that there are many talented writers and that, despite one loss, my story was still worthy.
So I wiped the tears and submitted it to another publication aligned with my offering. It felt like flinging my soul into the waves.
And Adeline found her way.
In correspondence from Humans of the World (HOW), the team wrote:
Dear Scarlet Ibis James,
Congratulations—we are excited to publish your story, “Adeline’s Sacrifice.”
Joy rose slowly, surely, strong.
I grew up in San Juan, Trinidad and Tobago, wrapped in the rhythm of people who tell stories without calling it storytelling—my aunties around kitchen tables, children in schoolyards building drama from thin air. When I moved to Brooklyn in my 20s, the pace of life no longer allowed the wandering imagination it required. I wrote in pieces and dreamed in pieces. “Soon” stretched into years.
This win felt like a tender affirmation of my author’s path.
A few years ago, I began writing again, slowly—one paragraph here, one scene there. Then the stories knocked harder. That led to Scarlet Yearnings, a collection holding the longings and shadows of women like me who carry multihyphenate identities. No agents showed interest, in part because debut short-story collections by Caribbean American women rarely receive priority. I chose to self-publish the collection. When readers do find the stories, their responses have been affirming and generous.
I feel both exposed and held.
Recognition from the literary world feels larger than me as a singular griot. Winning this contest felt like a moment for Caribbean women writers who build worlds from our histories, travels, humor, heartbreak, and stubborn hope. It affirmed that independent publishing is not a limitation but a deliberate and bona fide path—one where our stories can travel widely and be honored for their craft and heart.
The win also pushed me to reflect on what it means to carry the Caribbean into every story. Trinidad shaped my cadence, my understanding of character, and my sense of family. Even in Harlem, that foundation moves with me—in dialogue, in how I explore love and loss, and in how I keep community central to everything.
Spaces like the Fellowship of the Griots matter because they make room for storytelling like this. They remind diaspora writers that we don’t have to trim ourselves to fit narrow expectations. We can write boldly with our heritage intact.
This win folds into a larger journey. Alongside Adeline’s Sacrifice, I have built a growing body of work, including Scarlet Yearnings, Scarlet Birthright, Love in the Dark, and upcoming collections. Each project moves me closer to the writer I am becoming, each carrying the fingerprints of the islands that raised me.
If there is anything I hope readers and fellow writers take away, it is this: The story you are hesitating to share might open a door.
I celebrate with gratitude—for those who encouraged me, for platforms uplifting writers of color, and for every Caribbean dreamer finding their way back to their voice. Keep writing. Keep submitting. Keep believing in stories only you can tell.
Your voice matters. Your viewpoint matters. The Caribbean has shaped unforgettable storytellers, and those of us writing now are part of that lineage.
You can read the winning story here.
Stay connected with me at www.scarletibisjames.com.
