The Island (Looking Forward)

Cotton Clouds Nose DiveGreen Candy Real Meal

Most Memorable Mommy Moments

At 13mths, i took my daughter to the doctor for a check-up because most of her new-born hair had fallen out and the new growth was slow. As we sat in the waiting area with other moms and babies, i tried my best to keep JJ entertained. She giggled and clapped and stood in the stroller to survey the room and the other babies. Finally, she settled down and focused on playing with her socks. Then, out of the blue, she looked the-lady-beside-me straight in the eyes and said, "A, apple; A, apple." Hey, I knew that i was back-up teacher at home, but i hadn't started the alphabet yet!

So the lady said, "Oh, my goodness, how old is she!"

"Thirteen months," i said, equally amazed, and all smiles.

"You must spend a lot of time teaching her at home," she said, curiously.

"Of course," i said, "but she usually initiates it and then i act as back-up."

"Wow," she said, still impressed. I smiled happily.

So i didn't lie about teaching JJ to say A, apple, but i got the pleasure of having her amaze someone else. I capitalized on that moment, and, did i teach her the rest of the alphabet? You bet! At 17mths she burst into my room one morning, sang the alphabet and blew me away.


***
At 15mths, a friend of mine came over to my place to do some paperwork. He has a daughter as well who is 4mths older than JJ. He said that he had been teaching his daughter from the time she was in her mother's womb. I thought, oh my; but i hesitantly told him that i didn't believe in that. I didn't read to JJ when she was in the womb and she's gonna be just fine, i told him (but a part of me wondered if he could be right. That starting from the womb was the best thing you could ever do for your child's education).

"Sunshine, now 19mths, is learning to say B A N A N A and i'm going to start teaching her to count soon!" he said, with all the pleasure of being a proud father, "plus, there are a few words we have been teaching her since she was born, and we are now waiting for the time when she will say them from memory."

"That's great!" i said, with all the sincere emotions of being a proud mother.

Then i thought to myself, JJ counts to 13 unassisted, and she already knows how to say B A N A N A and other things, so maybe she's going to be alright! (actually, she started counting to 5 before she turned 12mths!)


***
At 20mths JJ melted my heart with her spelling, albeit only two words, unassisted: C A T and D A D.


***
Now, at 22mths she is learning to read via phonics. Also, she speaks with verbs and in full sentences, but the little sucker cries for everything and cannot say when she wants to poo poo!

Brick and Lace: Love is Wicked

One of the hottest reggae videos that i’ve seen in a while. I’ve never heard of Brick and Lace but this song is wicked! Number 1 on the Top 10 Caribbean Music Videos chart and number 3 on the Top 10 Reggae Singles chart. I stumbled upon this and other relevant stuff in the West Indian Entertainment & Life Magazine (which is FREE monthly, btw, at ethnic food stores etc.). The magazine has tons of info on “Music, Culture, Art, People, Life” that practically covers the Black Atlantic! Found it just in the nick of time, the magazine i mean, as I was desperately searching for stuff, ANYTHING, on "black history."

Busy Signal: Nah Guh Jail Again

Hmmm, the message is clear. Thank you. Number 4 on the Top 10 Reggae Singles chart...

Valentine's Night

Lovers lock lips
Beneath the starlight
Between armed wintry bliss
Burning bright in stolen firelight
with
Splintered rose-buds, caravan kisses.
Chicled desires sounding strange, consent
Liquid love melting stern caresses.
The Night praises, a hidden moment
Leaping fences--
It's the time for love, love, loving!

Checkered rainbow cross backs and faces
as
Lovers bend and bow to nonstop tempo
Come closer, hear the mellow secrets stolen?
The Night, Time for love.

Message for my Daughter

Like so many things in life, i did not choose activism, it was thrust upon me. My activism starts in my home, with my daughter, the future of this country. A few realizations, eye-openers some may say, have prompted my meditation and subsequent decision to write a message for my daughter (and any other children of colour whose parents may be reading). As soon as she is able to understand, which is probably not too far from now, i will tell her the following:

Message for my as-yet- matured daughter, living in Canada.

You are black.
You are female.
You are not the norm.
The norm is white, male, heterosexual, Christian, Eurocentric.
Before you come into this world, you are already created, positioned and defined in multiple ways through language.
Before you encounter the outside-world, your experiences are already constituted by discursive practices (in media, law, medicine, education) which see you as other, strange and tolerable.
As you venture into the world, you must always ask questions, always interrogate, always work to complicate and dislodge hegemonic truths that work to subordinate and silence you.
Always surround yourself with people who are honest and supportive; at times it will be difficult to tell the difference.
Be prepared to work twice as hard for everything and never, ever, surrender for less than your goals.
You will need a thick skin when you enter academia because people (faculty and students) will want to eat you raw.
Be brave, be strong, and remember that your ancestors have survived the journey across the Atlantic and your mother has survived another such journey.
This is not a guide for survival, only a map that points to the gaps, cracks, potholes and shows you the many detours and dead ends that shape the city.
Remember, you are black, female and beautiful, but you are not the norm.

Art and Xperience

"I can only speak for myself. But what i write and how i write is done in order to save my own life. And i mean that literally. For me literature [and poetry] is a way of knowing that i am not hallucinating, that whatever i feel / know is." -- Barbara Christian, "The Race for Theory"




On that note, i will venture to say: i look for my truths in literature, in poetry, in music, in dance, in photographs, in gestures; in other words, in silences and spoken words, in those forms we call "fiction". I've stopped searching history books and official records. I now look around me. I write what i see through my own lense, and from my own perspective. I read.

That Body

Censor the body and you censor breath and speech at the same time. Write yourself. Your body must be heard.
-- Helene Cixous, "The Laugh of the Medusa."


that body,
that, that, that
that body
that bla
black, black body,
that berry black body
must be heard.

silvery black, shackled block
slippery sloped black body
shepherded back, shipwrecked sugar
Sir Sligo
knew
sir sli
shepherded back 'gainst the shadow
of whiteness, mythical
needing entry.

that body
that, that, that
that body
that bla
black, black, body
that berry black body
must be heard

silent, slow, spoken,
wow!
Sir Sligo
knew
sex, sexy survival
served black, back 'gainst stone
smile, lean, strike a pose
yo' earned it!
yea,

tha', tha', tha'
tha', tha' black body,--
yea,
it must be heard.