The Signifyin' Woman (Charmaine Valere)

Good blog reads

Bakannal gets beyond abstract economic theory, and puts some practical everyday voices and numbers on the rising cost of living in Guyana.  And, Ruel Johnson responds to criticism of overt sexuality in his writing. 

Thoughts, questions...my personal struggle with a hyphenated identity

Believe me, I understand the strong negative reaction I received when I criticized the use of the term "Afro-Guyanese" to classify certain Guyanese.  I have had my own very emotional, lengthy struggle with identification terms.  And if you are a Guyanese who is content, comfortable with the identification term "Afro-Guyanese," then I applaud your contentment.  All I ask is that you respect my discontent with the term.  It is a prickly subject.  But, I trust that there are enough of us interested in this subject who can have a conversation that does not dissolve into ugly name-calling.

I don't know when Guyanese actually started using "Afro" as an identification term.  I do know when I lived there (from 1967-1986) it was not a term I was familiar with.   I also do know from amongst whom the term originated, and it was not in Guyana.  So to say "Afro-Guyanese" is a Guyanese thing at the very least needs explanation (for me anyway).  And then to throw on top of that statement the idea that to change from saying "Afro-Guyanese" to "African-Guyanese" would mean "follow-patterning" Americans...well, some of you see the comic-irony I'm sure.

This brings me to my first reason for rejecting the term. 

The popular use of the term “Afro-Something" most likely preceded the popularity of the hairstyle.  (Guyanese were rather late in using the term to identify people of African descent.  But I am not saying that the use of the term in Guyana or elsewhere was derived from the hairstyle.)  What happened as we have seen so often in the amazing evolution of words is that the word "Afro" became associated with the hairstyle and eventually overshadowed the hyphenated identification term.  As a result (as I said previously), these days most people of African descent prefer an identification (group name) that is more clearly associated with the continent, and not the hairstyle.  "Afro" can no longer be recognized as simply an abbreviation (hyphenated or else) of Africa or African.

 

I happen to agree with the sentiment that if you continue to change the name identification of your group based on the rather fickle evolution of the way we perceive words, then it would appear (to me) to be counter-productive to any positive goals the group may be seeking. 

 

But, even if some Guyanese think they are resisting such fickle-ness by holding on to the term "Afro," here's a question I'd like to have answered (it's long; bear with me): Where in Guyana would a person of African descent be required to identify him or herself as such?  In school?  In the workplace?  On television?  In the newspapers?  In the hospital?  On the sports field?  In a club?  In the rumshop?  In the funeral parlor?  In somebody's home?  At the police station?  At the hair salon?  At the corner lime?  When the bandits stick you up?  When you go to buy flour to make roti?  At the voting station?  Tell me where please?

 

Aaah, the voting station!  Guyana's historical and contemporary ethnic-based politics may be culpable here.  My puerile theory is that the 28 years of PNC rule in Guyana did much to cause some Guyanese of Indian descent to seek belonging elsewhere.  To claim belonging-ness to India rather than Guyana made perfect sense at a time when to be called Indian in Guyana was pejorative.  Now the tables of providence have been turned.  And I guess it makes sense for some Guyanese of African descent (who feel--and are--marginalized) to claim belonging-ness elsewhere.  It's sad though that they and some others who claim belonging-ness to Africa appear (either because they are unsure or greedy) to claim the entire continent. 

 

The term "African-Guyanese" says so much, and ultimely too little to be of real identification consequence.  Two recent commenters on this blog explored some of the complexities of a hyphenated identification in Guyana:

 

First Commenter:

The Guyanese people who insist on classifying themselves as Indo and Afro don't know how stupid they sound.  If they are trying to identify themselves with the country of their ancestors, the "Afro" Guyanese should find out whatever part of Africa they came from and put that country in front of Guyanese, or the "Indo" Guyanese should be called "Asian" Guyanese. You can't qualify some by a country and others by a continent; and what about those whose ancestors came from Pakistan, Portugal, China, etc.? What do they call the mixed races? The native Guyanese?. . . Plain ole "Guyanese" not good enough for you?

 

Second commenter:

I never refer to myself as Afro-Guyanese. It is downright derogatory and demeaning indeed. I don't understand why they just can't be satisfied with saying "Guyanese". They think that they are classifying us by our race, but since when does the term "Afro" signify one's race? They even go so far as to shorten it sometimes to say "she/he is an "Afro"! Of course, they (and I am really not too sure who I am referring to as "they" ) are doing a copycat of the Americans long, abandoned usage of the word. People can't seem to refer to each other anymore without mentioning their race, by whatever is their preferred descriptive word. For whatever it is worth, whenever I am forced to refer to someone's race, I use the words Indian, Black, Chinese, etc. That also does not seem appropriate, because everyone else is described in relation to their geographic origin, but we are described by our colour. In that regard, therefore, it may be more appropriate to say African, but somehow that does not seem to sit well with me either. Frankly, when I think of myself, the most important thing to me is my gender and not so much race. One can debate these issues "until thy kingdom come."

My first post on this blog was on my discontent with the term "Afro-Guyanese."  But I have lived long enough outside of Guyana to accept several versions of a hyphenated identity, so I realize that my wish to be identified without (or beyond) ethnicity even in Guyana, may be just that: wishful thinking.

I continue to hope that is not the case.  What about you?

 

 

   

Interesting article on copyright law in Guyana

As much as I kid around about infringing on copyright laws here on this blog, I am happy they exist.  Here's an article in today's Stabroek News about copyright law in Guyana that made my jaw drop.

John Agard's love poems

 

I liked the first collection so much, I decided to add another collection of John Agard's poems to my reading list.  It is titled Lovelines for a Goat-born Lady.  At a cursory look, I see that some of the poems are mildly teasing and tender, and others are wickedly erotic.  (Something tells me I'm gonna really like this stuff.)

Yes, I know it's a holiday weekend and you'd rather be out in somebody's backyard (not your own, you too lazy to fire up your grill) eating up deh barbeque, drinking, and chillin'.  And the only reason yuh stop by to read this blog is because yuh think I gon respond to Living Guyana again.  Nah.  We done fight (fuh now any way).

So while you're here, tek a lil read of two of the poems from Agard's Lovelines.  It might put yuh in the mood fuh something later.  That's if yuh don't stuff yuself too much.  Sex on a full belly is just too gassy to be enjoyable.  So read, get mildly in the zone, and remember to eat lightly.    

Mirrors

Switching from dress to dress

you face the truth of mirrors

with your woman’s dreams

and fragile human need

to stun the staring world

 

but when the face of mirrors

tells you that they lie

and the world’s fault-finding eye

does not see your private hurt

you will turn to find in me

a human mirror

for the hidden self

that others fail to hold or see

 

 

Other Mouth

 

The mouth the world sees

the mouth you eat with

the mouth you speak with

the mouth you use to voice a poem

the mouth you use to rejoice in song

the mouth you use to be simply social

the mouth basking in its own smile

the mouth that yawns and answers the phone

the mouth exposed to the four corners

 

But what about the other mouth?

The mouth the world does not see

the mouth you throb with

the mouth you tide with

the mouth you use to earth a cock

the mouth you use to birth a child

the mouth basking in its own wetness

the mouth that flames without fire

the mouth at which the four directions become one

 

"LIVING GUYANA" COULD BE SO MUCH MORE EFFECTIVE

The Living Guyana people had this to say in response to my comment on their use of the term "Afro-Guyanese" :

We're finding immense difficulty understanding why Charmaine Valere finds the term 'Afro' as 'derogatory and ignorant'. We use 'Afro' in the same way we use 'Indo', they are both shortened versions of African and Indian respectively. Perhaps Charmaine wishes for us to write out 'Indian Guyanese' and 'African Guyanese', if that is the case she can kiss our black/coolie/dougla/putagee/buck/chinee bamsee.

Or perhaps she is suggesting that 'Afro' is equal to 'negro' or 'nigger'? Come on Charmaine, explain yourself so we can either understand or expose and slam your rass.

And I say...

When you're in the habit of borrowing terms to accomplish (dubious) goals (such as categorizing the people in your country, as in this case), then you should at least keep abreast with the important changes that go along with the terms you borrow.  The hyphenated term "Afro-somebody of African descent living outside of Africa is no longer used by the people who first coined it.  These days (hello enlightenment!) they, and most other people of African descent around the world prefer an identification term that reflects more than a hairstyle.

Why must Guyana borrow and remain stuck with terms that the rest of the civilized world has shunned? 

And yes, names are an integral part of the development of any group's identity and upliftment.  Living Guyana's insistence on characterizing the antagonistic relationship between people of Indian and African descent in Guyana as hopeless is not uplifting in any way.  Maybe by telling it crudely and crassly they think they're providing some much-needed national service to their (supposedly) less-educated readers.  Haha! 

If Living Guyana spent some time figuring out and writing about the real reasons behind ethnic animosities in Guyana instead of sprouting borrowed, racist, idiotic theories about slavery (are these people for real?), they'll see that the 28 years of PNC rule may not be the whole story.  It can't hurt to dig into the way people really see each other's differences.  Living Guyana has a legitimate space to start a serious discourse on ethnic issues in Guyana.  Maybe they should spend some time doing that rather than trying to slam my rass.

In the tradition of "Empire Writing Back to the Centre": John Agard's Half-caste and Other Poems

John Agard's two poems I featured here, and wrote observations on here, fit in the tradition of (pardon the lil book-learning) post-colonial literature--Empire Writing Back to the Centre (as Salman Rushdie termed it).

"Half-caste" pokes fun at the term, and in poking fun, the speaker exposes the less than substantive use of the term in describing a person of mixed race.  In the poem, the speaker reclaims his wholeness by writing back, reverting the language that sought to make him half.  He does so in written form, as well as in spoken form. (Rethabile Masilo found a smoother recording of Half-caste that's worth a listen.  He has a recent picture of John Agard you may enjoy there as well.)

As in "Half-caste," the speaker in "Checking out me history" seeks to reclaim a part of him that was denied or hidden.  He writes back at those who taught him to disregard his own history and throughout the poem gives tribute to the "Empire's" true heroes.  

Through his use of language, he raises those heroes, and others omitted from the history he was taught--Toussaint, Nanny, Mary Seacole, Carib people, Arawak people--above the ones he was taught to admire, and he does so by using language that rises off the page itself.   

The narratives he tells of the Empire's heroes--Toussaint, Nanny, and Seacole--tell their stories of triumph and also give them personalities in a language that is anti-Standard / colloquial, and Standard.  It is the language of a defiant, once-Empire: Toussaint "lick back"; Nanny de maroon was a "see-far," "fire-woman"; Mary Secole said "no" to the British, and "brave the Russian snow."

Agard's poems are exemplary pieces on reclaiming and reveling in a language of one's own.  I will read and re-read this collection and continue to enjoy it for a very long time.  Then, I will pass it on to my sons for their enjoyment (hopefully).

Final note:  Agard's use of empowering language seems effortless, but that effortlessness may have come at the end of a long struggle.  Some evidence of the once-Empire's awkward continuing struggle with the language of identity is in this Living Guyana post.  In the post, the writer categorizes two supposedly antagonistic (towards each other) major groups of Guyanese people as "Indo" and "Afro."  Although I can, I don't think it's my place to argue against the use of  "Indo."  But, "Indo-Guyanese" is certainly not as demeaning as the term "Afro-Guyanese."  I continue to voice my disapproval of the term "Afro" to categorize a group of people of varying hues and hairstyles.  It is derogatory and ignorant.  Maybe when we learn to respect difference and empower ourselves with language... Yeah, I dare to be optimistic.

 

Some observations on John Agard's "Checking Out Me History"

Dem tell me

Dem tell me

Wha dem want to tell me

 

Rhythmic in its repetition.  The short lines call attention immediately to “Dem” in an accusatory tone.

 

Bandage up me eye with me own history

Blind me to me own identity

 

The accusatory tone gets specific and more intense with the longer rhythmic lines.  The speaker accuses “Dem” of telling him things that caused him to be blind to his own history, his own sense of self.  “Bandage up me eye with me own history” suggests insult to injury in the sense that the accused caused the blindness, then used the listener’s “own history” to cover up the blind eye.  In all, the accusation is of a deliberate, cruel attempt to mislead.

 

Dem tell me bout 1066 and all dat

dem tell me bout Dick Whittington and he cat

But Toussaint L’Ouverture

no dem never tell me bout dat

 

The speaker cites British history alongside British folktale or fairy tale possibly in an attempt to say (for him) one was not distinguishable from the other.  And the emphatic, double negatives—“no” and “never”—in the last line change the sing-song rhythm of the two previous lines.

 

Toussaint

a slave

with vision

lick back

Napoleon

battalion

and first Black

Republic born

Toussaint de thorn

to the French

Toussaint de beacon

of de Haitian Revolution

 

The story of Toussaint sounds like a chant almost.  And the chant suggests more than one voice—it is oratory, and plural.

 

Dem tell me bout de man who discover de balloon

and de cow who jump over de moon

Dem tell me bout de dish run away with de spoon

but dem never tell me bout Nanny de maroon

 

Once again the seemingly derogatory pairing of history and nursery rhyme / fairy tale.

 

Nanny

See-far woman

of mountain dream

fire-woman struggle

hopeful stream

to freedom river

 

Like the lines telling Toussaint’s story, these lines have a plural, oratory sound.  But the story is told in fragments, and ends with the un-rhythmic line “to freedom river.”  The story is not linear and complete (in reference to the way it sounds) like the story of Toussaint told above.  This adds an additional quality to the storyteller.  It also befits the story of a “see-far” woman, a visionary woman?  The fragmentation creates a mystery, a puzzle, and asks you the listener to see in another dimension, and to recognize an unconventional heroine—not a fairy tale, but a more believable tale of a woman with supernatural powers perhaps.  This may suggest a specific addressee as well.

 

Dem tell me bout Lord Nelson and Waterloo

but dem never tell me bout Shaka de great Zulu

Dem tell me bout Columbus and 1942

but what happen to de Caribs and the Arawaks too

 

The speaker, in a possible effort to give the accusation wider appeal, points out the exclusion of an integral part of the people of much of the Caribbean and the Americas from the historical narrative he was told.

 

Dem tell me bout Florence Nightingale and she lamp

and how Robin Hood used to camp

Dem tell me bout ole King Cole was a merry ole soul

but dem never tell me bout Mary Seacole

 

From Jamaica

she travel far

to the Crimean War

she volunteer to go

and even when de British said no

she still brave the Russian snow

a healing star

among the wounded

a yellow sunrise

to the dying

 

The hard-hitting (sounding) “go,” “no,” and “snow,” grab the reader’s attention to the speaker’s crescendo moment in the poem.  It is a noticeably loud moment particularly because the woman’s defiance is immediately followed by the speaker’s concluding defiance.

 

Dem tell me

Dem tell me wha dem want to tell me

But now I checking out me own history

I carving out me identity

 

And then the resolution.  The speaker tells us the reason for the address—that he has reclaimed his power, that he can see for himself now.  The poem ends on a triumphant note in that sense.  The triumph is anti-climactic of course (although complete in a poetic sense) since we are long aware before the end that he has checked out his own history. 

 

 

[I'll post my conclusions tomorrow] 

 

Update: conclusions here

A call for stories on / about "Scouta" (Wordsworth McAndrew)

[The following is a message from Roy Brummell, longtime friend and colleague of the late Wordsworth McAndrew.]

I'm collecting stories from people who have known Scouta, with the aim of publishing the stories. Your stories may be based on one or two specific adventures with the Scouta or be summations of all the years that you've known him. By publishing the stories, I'll be playing my little part to help prevent "Maan dead graass grow a' he do'."

Sincerely,

Roy Brummell

[For further information on the above project, please e-mail Mr. Brummell: r[dot]brummell[at]worldnet[dot]att[dot]net.

Comment from Balwant Bhagwandin

It's always an honor to hear from the writers whose works I feature here on this blog.  Their comments (negative or positive) reassure me that there are real persons behind the art and sentiments I deem so worthy of my reading time and yours.  The following is a comment from Guyanese poet, Balwant Bhagwandin, whose soul-wrenching collection of poems titled I Hear Guyana Cry I have featured on this blog (see sidebar labelled "signifyin' Guyanese writers").

Hello Friend,

It is a mighty comfort to know that others have heard my cries for my homeland. With each hour, each day since these poems were written, the cries have become more desperate and despairing with no sight of relief. Much thanks for your kind comments, reviews and dissemination of my poems.

Thanks also for the great job you are doing.

Sincerely,

Balwant Bhagwandin.

What do you look for in a poem?

Like anything else I read critically, when I read a poem I try to figure out what's being said, and how it's being said.  Essentially, I examine the form and content of the text.  I like to keep things as simple as possible for the small, but over-taxed portion of my brain, which I use for "literary" analysis. 

To illustrate how I read and analyze a poem, for those of you who may be interested, I'm going to use another of John Agard's poems in Half-caste and Other Poems.  This one is titled "Checking Out Me History."  If I ramble and stray as I go along, that's okay.  If I am inconclusive, that's okay too.  It's all part of my method.  I''ll hopefully get back on track when I try to sum things up in the end.  If I don't, feel free to comment and tell me about it.  The poem is reprinted below.  Read it and enjoy it before I cut it up.

But first things first...

[To the honourable poet Mr. John Agard:  Please sir, do not sue me for infringing on copy rights.  I promise I am doing this all out of love.  Besides, I ain't got two pennies to rub together, so yuh ain't gon get nuttin anyway.  Best regards, c.d.valere.]

Checking Out Me History

Dem tell me

Dem tell me

Wha dem want to tell me

 

Bandage up me eye with me own history

Blind me to me own identity

 

Dem tell me bout 1066 and all dat

dem tell me bout Dick Whittington and he cat

But Toussaint L’Ouverture

no dem never tell me bout dat

 

Toussaint

a slave

with vision

lick back

Napoleon

battalion

and first Black

Republic born

Toussaint de thorn

to the French

Toussaint de beacon

of de Haitian Revolution

 

Dem tell me bout de man who discover de balloon

and de cow who jump over de moon

Dem tell me bout de dish run away with de spoon

but dem never tell me bout Nanny de maroon

 

Nanny

See-far woman

of mountain dream

fire-woman struggle

hopeful stream

to freedom river

 

Dem tell me bout Lord Nelson and Waterloo

but dem never tell me bout Shaka de great Zulu

Dem tell me bout Columbus and 1942

but what happen to de Caribs and de Arawaks too

 

Dem tell me bout Florence Nightingale and she lamp

and how Robin Hood used to camp

Dem tell me bout ole King Cole was a merry ole soul

but dem never tell me bout Mary Seacole

 

From Jamaica

she travel far

to the Crimean War

she volunteer to go

and even when de British said no

she still brave the Russian snow

a healing star

among the wounded

a yellow sunrise

to the dying

 

Dem tell me

Dem tell me wha dem want to tell me

But now I checking out me own history

I carving out me identity