HEARTICALLY YOURS

The Jesuit motto “give me the child until he is age seven and I will show you the man” is insightful in ways that Anguilla may have long recognised but has not always acted on. Perhaps it is that same philosophy of the Catholic Church that says a child cannot be morally responsible for his or her actions that has led to the thinking of age seven as the age of reason.

Like Mr. Petty, I too seem unable to forget certain aspects of Carnival 2006 in Anguilla. However, unlike Mr. Petty, I will not tell you where I saw him last doing what. I will leave that entirely up to your imagination.

(Joseph Hill/Culture 1949 - 2006) “Hold not Thy peace, oh God of my salvation
Because the mouth of the wicked and the deceitful is open - Eh-eh...Come with I...
Rastaman throw one big stone, And it bring a bad feeling to all wicked men
Natty man throw one stone, And it bring a bad feeling to all wicked men

There have been moments in recent years when I’ve thought that, like the title of Lorna Goodison’s poem, I’m Becoming My Mother. However, after the recently held thanksgiving celebration of my mother’s life and love as she approaches her 80th birthday, I am simply giving thanks for having been born to the perfect woman.

NOH LICKLE TWANG! (NOT EVEN A LITTLE ACCENT)

This poem bemoans the fact that a recent repatriate Jamaican has returned from the United States without a trace of having been--not even a little “twang”! This, to say the least, is a highly unusual occurrence and all the more unforgivable.

As I have done on the occasion of the holy days in my community of faith, today I share some food for thought from Ras Tafari Makonnen, titled Haile Selassie I, whose Earthday was commemorated by the global community on Sunday 23rd July.

I can see him now, tall, dark and handsome in his Custom’s Officer uniform. This was in Nevis sometime during the early sixties and though I was a little girl at the time, I remember him as a dashing figure whose visits to our household always brought fun and laughter. Our family moved to St. Kitts first to the rural community of Old Road and then to Basseterre in an area known as Wades Garden.

No one knows what tomorrow will bring but whether you or I arise and witness the glory of another sunrise, rest assured, the sun will rise. This was the kind of sentiment with which I left the Youth Leaders Retreat held last week end at the Anguilla Great House. Before I even get to the young people, I must pause to give thanks, halos, kudos and other words of commendation to the Management and Staff of the Anguilla Great House for the high quality service that made for a successful retreat and a memorable week-end.

By now you must have heard how Bankie Banx and the Roots and Herbs rocked the early night crowd at the recently concluded St. Kitts Music Festival. In between rocking myself, I was scanning the entire venue checking audience response and was really pleased to note patrons of all ages dancing and singing along while comments from a couple of youngsters included “versatile” and “boy, dem ku really play”.

It was with a chill that I received the news on Sunday morning that a police vehicle had been burnt near my residential area in The Valley. What chilled me was that I learned about it while sharing my fears with a former police officer about the mistakes the authorities in Anguilla were making in their effort to tackle the so-called drug problem in Anguilla.

It amazes me that my most inconsequential writings are often the ones that seem to generate the most interest so I must thank all of you who called and offered interpretations to my dream of last week. Today I want us to seriously reflect on the nightmare that Anguilla has become for some of our young people and for their victims who may also be the perpetrators of the violence experienced in their lives. Then we need to engage with all of them in sharing the vision and realizing the dream for the Anguilla that we all want.

I ‘ve got dreams
Dreams, bad dreams
Dreams, rough dreams
To remember
Don’t make me suffer
Dreams, bad dreams
Dreams, rough dreams
To remember
(Ottis Redding, 1941-1968)

The Love the Rock Anguilla Day community reggae concert is over and here I am more tired than ever, more broke than ever and vowing that I will never do it again. However, yesterday someone sucked me into discussion about Love the Rock next year.

These watchwords of CARIFESTA IX define the calibre of Festival, patrons can expect in Trinidad and Tobago from September 22 to October 1, 2006. The thrust of CARIFESTA IX is toward the promotion of cultural industries for the development of the creative economy.

Last week I visited the W.I.S.E. programme in operation at the old Cottage Hospital building. The acronym stands for Workshop Initiative for Support in Education and I commend fully those who made the decision to begin the programme in September 2004.

A strange thing happened in my backyard last week. I was hanging out clothes on a line attached to a loblolly tree when I heard a yard fowl and her chicks making a commotion out under the tree. I could see the mother hen looking frantic but I could not see her chicks. As I drew near I realized what had happened and shouted to my partner Ras Iration I for help.

There is this curious tension within the Rastafari Movement which indicates a lack of appreciation of the difference between politics and supporting particular political parties. The very concept of a Movement implies broad political purpose but I and I have never fully trusted the institutions, agencies and representatives of the established system of parliamentary democracy.

The concept of children who are vulnerable and at risk is hardly ever manifested in one single area of living. For example a child who is being sexually molested is also at risk of contracting HIV and part of the response to that kind of violation may be drug abuse and violence.

It was a truly imperial gathering of Rastafari women and they came from near and far to Issemble at Spelman College in Atlanta, Georgia for the 4th Annual Empress Menen Earthlight celebration. The Conference followed the pattern established during the first one held at Howard University in seeking some engagement with students of the host institution.

Wow! What a weekend! What an explosion of Anguillian and Caribbean creative expression! As the fog of sleepless nights clears and the afterpain of feet dancing all night for two nights in a row subsides, there remains that head full, belly full, heart full feeling of love, and pride at what was definitely the best Moonsplash ever. Yeah, I know I may have said that last year but that’s only because last year came before this year. The news of Bankie Banx’s reunion with his Roots and Herbs after 30 years was met with high expectations but what we at Moonsplash 2006, was a touch of the sublime.