by Damara Phillips
Damara is a DJ, designer and founder of Sistah SoulJahs Hub. Through her series, From Antigua to Awareness, she shares her family’s autism journey with honesty and intention, hoping to deepen understanding and spark much-needed conversations across the Caribbean.
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Part 1: How Did I Find Myself Here?
Hello, and thank you for taking the time to read this.
To be honest, this first piece has been months in the making. I originally wanted to release it during Autism Awareness Month in April, but if you are an autism parent, you already know that plans do not always go the way you expect them to. Still, I am here now, and I am grateful that you are here with me.
My name is Damara, though most people in Antigua and Barbuda know me as a DJ and the founder of Sistah SoulJahs Hub, a full-service media enterprise offering graphic design, web design and entertainment services.
I have been DJing for more than 20 years, but when I first started thinking seriously about having a baby, I was about 15 years into my career. After COVID, something in me shifted. I knew I wanted to start my family. I planned my pregnancy, and after trying for several months, I found out I was pregnant in April 2022.
The timing was something else because I was just about to fly to Spain to spend a couple of months with my best friend. I found out only a few days before I left. I remember sitting with the news and realising that everything I had prayed for and hoped for was finally happening. It felt surreal, like life was shifting beneath my feet in the most beautiful way.
My pregnancy was fairly typical. I experienced rough morning sickness during my first trimester, but after that, things settled into a steady rhythm. Matthew was due on November 26, but he arrived a little early on November 21, right here in Maryland.
His dad lives in the United States, so we decided it made the most sense for me to give birth here so he could be part of the process as much as possible. My job was more flexible than his, so it felt like the right decision. In retrospect, I am grateful we chose Maryland. The support system I have here today is something I could not have imagined back then, but that is a story for another article.
In the beginning, Matthew appeared to be a typically developing newborn. He smiled, laughed, babbled, made sounds and reached his early milestones. He walked at 11 months, waved and clapped. The only thing that stood out to me was that he did not always respond to his name. At the time, I brushed it off as him being a little stubborn or simply in his own world.
I spent the first two months of his life in Maryland before returning home to Antigua in January 2023. The plan was to split our time between Antigua and the United States so he could see his dad, attend his check-ups and maintain some balance. I was still working full-time, and I had literally worked up until the day I went into labour, so travelling back and forth for his appointments became part of our routine.
As he got older, however, things started to shift. Every time I completed the developmental questionnaires at his paediatrician’s office, I noticed he was moving further away from some of the expected milestones. By the time he was walking, he was also walking on his toes and flapping his arms frequently. He slowly stopped waving, stopped clapping and stopped babbling.
I could feel in my gut that something was different. I am a very intuitive person, and as a mother, that intuition felt even stronger. When I voiced my concerns, my family, friends and even his dad reassured me that some children simply talk later, that boys develop more slowly and that it was probably nothing to worry about.
Still, the silence bothered me. The loss of babbling bothered me. I did not ignore it, but I did not panic either. I kept watching.
In September 2024, I visited my uncle and his wife, who is a nurse. We are very close, and I shared my concerns with her. At first, she also encouraged me to give him a little more time. But after spending a few days with him, she began noticing some of the same things I had.
She encouraged me to ask his doctor for a referral for a speech evaluation. I had already been quietly researching autism, while trying not to diagnose him myself, but deep down, I knew something was different.
His paediatrician recommended an evaluation through Baltimore County Public Schools’ Infants and Toddlers Program for a possible speech delay. When we returned to Maryland after that trip, he was assessed by the programme’s team. They confirmed that he had a speech delay, which was also affecting other areas of his development.
I was not crushed. I had already felt it in my spirit. We enrolled in the programme and were assigned a special education teacher to support his development. That is where our journey truly began.
Trusting Your Gut and Why Early Support Matters
One thing I learned very early in this journey is that nobody knows your child the way you do. People will always have opinions. They will tell you to relax, to wait, to stop worrying and to give it time.
They often mean well, but they are not the ones living with your child every day. They are not the ones seeing the small changes, the subtle shifts or the things that do not sit right in your spirit.
As parents, especially in the Caribbean, we are often encouraged to brush things off. We hear that boys talk late. We hear that every child develops differently. We hear that we are overthinking. And while every child does develop at their own pace, there is a difference between comparing your child to others and noticing that something has genuinely changed.
That feeling in your chest, that quiet voice telling you to pay attention, is not always fear. Sometimes, it is intuition, and it deserves to be taken seriously.
Early intervention is one of the most valuable forms of support available to children experiencing developmental delays. It is not about labelling them or rushing towards a diagnosis. It is about giving them access to appropriate support while they are still growing, learning and developing.
The earlier a child receives support, the sooner families can begin identifying their needs, strengthening communication and building skills that support their development. Looking back, I am grateful that I listened to my instincts. I am grateful that I did not allow anyone to talk me out of what I felt deep down.
Early intervention did not change who Matthew is. It simply gave him access to the support he needed. It also gave me knowledge, direction and a stronger foundation from which to advocate for him.
If you are a parent reading this and something in your heart feels unsettled, pay attention to it. Ask questions. Seek answers. Follow up. Push when necessary. You are not being dramatic, and you are not imagining things. You are advocating for your child, and that is one of the most important roles you will ever have.
This part of the journey taught me that listening to your instincts matters. Seeking support early can help families better understand their child’s needs and begin building the right foundation for the road ahead.
