The Artist Entrepreneur

photo by Mike Chaves

To my mind to succeed as an artist, one must also be an entrepreneur. It's miserable if one ends up poor and unwell with the talent that Van Gogh possessed. That makes for good tragedy post-humously but not a happy life. Yet, it seems to me as though the dominant patterns in the brain which serves one out into society as an artist, inhibits the calculating business/sales/ administartive/ auditing mind that one needs to be successful. Therefore artists wait to be discovered and managed, which is very good when that happens and one finds really good managers, agents, etc. But many artists have enough skill and talent to be successful not necessarily to become celebrities but to make as good a living as any other profession. In a place like Canada it's great that there are grants and available in the absence of royal patronage. It would be nice to have patronage too:) Here's what I'm thinking: Many artists have figured things out in their community. They may know how to produce themselves and put on a show from concept to advertising and marketing. But they can only do this in their own neck of the woods where they have had to find the entrepreunerial edge. They may have an extensive list of people who have watched them grow who may come to see their work. Why don't such artists who may be wearing down their own audience with this overexposed act (within their own community), connect with others from different parts of the province and host, produce and market them in their home community in exchange for similar favours from the visiting artist. In essence an intercity network of co artists. Recently I watched the East York Choir in performance and they were wonderful in their communtiy. But after all this practice they perform once and that's it unless someone could host them elsewhere and run the business of it where they cannot. In lieu of agents and managers, how could this happen? In Africa we say "hand come, hand go". In Canada we say: "you scratch my back and I scratch yours". Imagine that there were associations formed in this manner, the mid level artist could potentially get really busy and the emerging artsist would know the value of working to establish themselves within their own community. Artist Entrepreneurs need to think this way to connect to a bigger world. We know that in our day Van Gogh would have fared better, wouldn't he?

On this note I hereby create my intercity network of Artist Entrepreneurs. You may register with me so long as you are a performing artist, don't live in Guelph and have succesfully put on shows seating at least 250 people :)

They put the SOUL in Spring

Hurray for Jenny Crober and the East York Choir for a powerful and soul stirring afternoon of song. Choral music is a force of nature, I find, and we were treated to Canadian composers, Tchaikovsky and a Bulgarian folk song. My personal favorites were Wood River, The Scout and Polegnala e Todora. The switch to Spirituals was powerful with "Ain't got time to die and De blin' man stood on de road and cried.
At the intermission I bid for perennials to plant in my upstart garden and then I kept my fingers crossed. Matlakala/Emily was an up beat joyous song to begin the African section. Indeed I loved all the songs but since I'm choosing favorites, I must say I love the rythm and tempo of Si njay njay njay, I love the gentleness and calm of Hamba Lulu. Vamudara makes me want to dance the "adowa" and O Sifuni Mungu and Siyahamba must be everybody's favorite. Ah, I might as well add on Hombe for its vocal complexity and Thula baba which i first heard in the show Umoja. There I loved them all.

"Onipa da wo ho so," written by my godfather, Dr. Ephraim Amu never ceases to call out my goosebumps one by one. He would have been so proud and so would my Dad who visited Canada only once in his lifetime. The little percussion section grew larger at Larry Graves suggestion. Suddenly not only did he want to drum but he wanted to sing, and involve the audience in the signature double clap of Kpanlogo. He even got me to dance the kpanlogo. How could I refuse? He and Fule had a blast, Larry on the kpanlogo and Fule on the djembe. My story The Magic Tree of the Sahel was well received and the afternoon came to an end.

The choir and Jenny received a standing ovation which I consider well deserved. At the end, we met so many people and received an abundance of compliments. I remember particularly, Brainerd Blyden-Taylor who directs the great Nathaniel Dett Chorale , Constantin and Mima who hail from Bulgaria. Mima is a member of the Trio Orpheus and Mariatou comes from Sierra Leone. I thought it would be a wonderful event and so it was. The Nathaniel Dett Chorale will be singing in Guelph in the fall. I wonder: what about the East York Choir? Maybe Guelph should have a taste of them too.

Spring Soul- Toronto, Eastminster United Church

Tonight we practised with the East York Choir which will present Spring Soul tomorrow , Sunday May 27th at 3pm. They sound heavenly and when the bass and tenors sing Dr. Amu's Onipa, I get goosebumps all over me. I'll tell you about my favorite songs tomorrow when I have the program before me and can spell everything just right. Fule and Larry are playing percussion, mainly the Djembe and Kpanlogo drums, and the rhythms rock with the wonderful tunes and the amazing harmonies of the East York Choir. Jenny Crober directs them in a spirited manner and over the last few weeks of rehearsal we have seen them stretch and reach for perfection. Tomorrow I will perform a solo dance and a story at the concert. Toronto is waking up to Africa!

Guelph Contemporary Dance Festival

Jiwani is preparing for the GCDF Site Specific Series. To be honest that particular series is the best dance event of the entire festival because it takes place in the picturesque Exhibition park under a blue sky, with the tall trees and green grass as as our back drop and the audience as part of our act. This year four dances will be performed at different sections of the park and hopefully the sun will prevail.

We will be premiering a dance, Spirit Alive choreographed for the event and performed to original recorded music by Kwame Badoe and the live drumming of the Jiwani drummers. Spirit Alive is a prayer which symbolizes and celebrates robust life for Africa after the current tragedy of the HIV epidemic which seems to speak death and decimation for the continent of Africa. Yet we shall live, and robustly so! I have fashioned the dance after the Lamban dance of Guinea, the dance of the griots. Something about the jeliw speaks directley to me because deep down I resonate to the call of the griots . I am called to tell the stories of Africa.

On June 2nd and 3rd, watch out for Jiwani on the green grass of Exhibition park.

Women of Distinction 2007

On May 10th I dressed in red and joined the other 2007 Women of Distinction nominees at the River Run Centre. The air was filled with expectation, excitement and some nervous tension as the gems of Guelph community arrived and settled in at the Co-operators Hall. We greeted each other, complimented each other and did a mini tour of the stage and back stage, committing to memory the order of the events as they were expected to unfold. Then Bob Housser took the group photos, hundreds of them, making jokes while we blinked and blinked, our smiles pressed firmly on our faces.

Afterward we had dinner, exquisite offerings of vegetables in upended forks, growing in trays of grass. There was mango chutney, (correct me if I don't know what I'm talking about) sweet peppers, cauliflower and diverse vegetable dipping sauces. I sat with Elizabeth Cunningham, the very gracious Kathleen Schmalz and Judith Rosenberg. I sipped on sparkling Sprite, too excited to think of drinking wine.

At last we were called up to the parade of nominees. My category was first and my name by virtue of supreme alphabetical order, first. I heard my name, loud and strong and the next thing I knew I was stepping (gracefully, I hope) on my new pointy high heeled shoes - and I never wear thin stiletto heels. I made it and stood smiling at the darkened auditorium after I had coillected my nominee's plaque. This event is more gracious than the Oscars in this regard. Then when we had all gathered to thunderous applause we walked off stage and found our seats.

Then our category was announced and video clips of our interviews screened for all to see. Magic 106.1 and CJOY 1460 were the sponsors of the category Arts and Culture...."and the recipient is.... Adwoa Badoe!" I was delighted, thankful and in full respect of my fellow nominees. I shook their hands, hugged those close to me and went up to collect my award. Two minutes later I had given thanks to all of Guelph, the YWCA, my supporters, friends, family and God, the giver of talent and favour. Then I had photograph taken with my sponsor. Back in the auditorium, my excitement brimming over, I found myself sitting next to my friend Michelle Mohr. YES! It felt nice to win. The rest of the ceremony passed as the recipients were named for each category. Afterwards over dessert and coffee, I celebrated with good friends. Fule was there with my kids Wynne, Matthew and Stephanie. Anne Dance came with Binty and Kadi. Dorothy Odartey Wellington was there with Stephen Hennighan, Stephanie Nutting, Atsu Amegashie and Lucy Mutharia. Somehow I missed seeing Lila Engberg. The other women in my category were definitely most deserving and very gracious. I applaud, Catrina von Radecki, Janet Johnson, Kathleen Schmalz, Jessica Steinhauser and Patricia Patrick who won a lifetime achievement award. Jessica and I were wearing similar shoes. I'm yet to send her a photograph of our feet!

Since May 10th I have received flowers from well wishers and as a post script, Liz Sandals, MPP has sent a certificate of congratulations! I just received the statements my nominators and supporters wrote on my behalf and I am blown away.

Still blown away,
Adwoa

To Ghana and Back

Since my last blog, I have been to GHANA where my daughter and I spent a wonderful two weeks meeting family and seeing the sights in Accra and Cape Coast. My best times were meeting my old school mates from SMS, UST and finding them all well and doing awesomely. Notably I enjoyed the company of Slim, Alex, Ray, Charles, Josie and Davina and then there was my ex-room mate Darius. I saw the next thing at Alliance Francaise with Pete. Her name is Dobet Gnahore and she moves like a cat. She is a singer-songwriter, multi instrumentalist and dancer with a mean band and a meaner show. Her CD is Na Afriki and I own one. Move over Angelique!

Ghana at 50, there wasn't much left over to see, but Panyin outdoored her baby and on AL's behalf Snof claimed God-mother status for us all. It was so good to see the AL group, Akos and Tibs, Zid and Arnold, Zipporah, Elliot and Naana; Tawiah, Kosei, Naa Abena and the old girls of Wey Gey Hey. There was Kate and Bea and Rosemond whom I hadn't seen for all of twenty years! And then there was Robert! Wow! In two weeks I had seen all these and others including old Achimotans and Aliki.

At La Palm the kids swam while Ako and I sat under an umbrella which did nothing to curb the heat of the sun. Pete came and then Miki and Tawiah and their kids. We ate Banku and Tilapia, plantains and jolof. The malt was not cool enough but it was good to sit and relax.


Bojo beach was a new place to me and the sand was white and clean. The waves washed against our feet, singing praises to the sky. The sky was so wide, so vast, so full of freedom and I sang hymns and waded as far as my knees. I soaked my capris as far as my thighs. We played old school rhythm and rhyme hand-games while Stephanie and Essie pretended to swim. K. quarrelled with London boy and my nephew, Papa Fule brought his girlf friend to say hi. All too soon the afternoon was over with frantic calls from home, warning us of a tropical storm. We rode the canoe back to the main land and kesewa and I went adventuring at Kokrobite. We didn't find Nii Tettey Tetteh's Kusun, but we found the compound of Nii Tettey Addy. We didn't meet the great drummer though. Lost opportunity!

Cape Coast was quite the trip and I learned many life lessons in a day. We did the Cape Coast Castle tour and saw the museum exhibits. Then at Hans Botel we ate, while crocodiles swam lazily by and lizards skittered on concrete floors. I saw a hornbill, in bright primary plumage and songbirds flitting from tree to tree.

Ghana was the same and Ghana had changed. The Akosombo dam has declined in might and load shedding means hydro power outages on a regulated schedule. Everyone speaks of the declining rains but hardly anyone remembers that nearer the source of the Volta River, the Burkinabes have dammed the same river leaving only a trickle arriving in Ghana. Inspite of this inconvenience, life continues and people live as fully as they can. Generators come alive when the hydro-power goes off, giving expensive and enivironmentally unsavoury power to those who can afford it. All others contend with early nights in hot steamy Accra, pulsing with the hopes of millions of people in three piece designer suits and ties, riding four by fours or wearing second-hand oburoni w'awu tee shirts, with faded letters telling of another world- Molson Canadian... what animal is that?

Celebration!

Tonight my Afroculture dance classes will celebrate the end of the winter session and the beginning of spring. What a lovely day at 18 degrees. Off with the coats, bring on the big smiles, robust laughter and the sound of cheerful greetings along the corridors and stair well of the GYMC. Two classes will meet to celebrate rhythm, body and movement while the awesome drummers of Jiwani sweat and play. I wish you were coming. Since you're not, I will tell you all about it after tonight.

Adwoa

Seeds in the Ground

A full day of workshops at June Avenue P.S yesterday was very satisfactory. Fule and Kathleen made up the rest of the team. It took a bit of planning between the principal, Maureen and I but it was well delivered and I do believe the students were inspired to a new love of storytelling which should also impact their creative writing. There was dance and hand-drumming too and a spirit of celebration to welcome the Spring. Spring is here at last. I particularly enjoyed the teachers' workshop and felt the strength of community so tangibly. I think I should offer more workshops to teachers as a group. Perhaps I should follow up on how the teachers use storytelling in the classroom after this workshop.

Today, I went out without a leather jacket and tonight will only drop as low as 1 degree. Yippee!Jiwani practiced our two dances for the United for Africa show on March 29th. Jiwani is looking sizzling hot and I couldn't be more pleased. We'll pick up stronger on the singing in April. The season has changed and if you haven't got seeds in the ground, then hurry up! Those who have ears, let them hear!

Dreams and Manuscripts

Yes, I've been working on two manuscripts. They are not your usual manuscripts, these I think I may self-publish. I have this desire for a small publishing outfit and then I think....too much to do in too little time. What shall I do?
I've been writing on my favorite themes of storytelling and African History, looking to develop material to support my presentations. The year is moving on swiftly and there is much to do.
My mind wanders, yet I return to my writing and little by little the job gets done. Today I received an email to join in a community conversation on the theme Greater Guelph. What do you know? I was already thinking of something to engage Guelph, something as fascinating as The Guelph Festival of African Arts. I was thinking of this as we travelled between Guelph and places beyond Stratford and Clinton, Ontario. Fule was driving and we were listening to Habib Koite's soothing kora music undergirded subtly by a bass guitar rhythm. I dreamed.
I am still working on two manuscripts, waiting to hear about three other manuscripts out there with publishers. I am working on a proposal and planning performances and a trip to Ghana. I am avoiding my email because my mind has turned introspective. It was a good day. Much was done in dreams wherein I visualized great endings in technicolour.

Like Chocolate

How do we relate to media? How do I relate to media? In September 2006, the beautiful collection of photographs and ruminations of writers, "Reading Writers Reading", by Danielle Scahub brought my likeness to print. Then "My Wedding Dress," edited by Susan Whelehan and Anne Carter brought my memoir and likeness once more on to the printed page. Then there I was for brief seconds on CP24, at the launch of "My Wedding Dress , in resplendent bubu, perhaps something I would have dressed in if I was now going to be married. Then I had this invitation to be interviewed by Shelagh Rogers on CBC, 'Sounds Like Canada', a request which failed twice due to traffic, weather and travel. Recently I was once again in the Guelph Mercury, this time on the front page at the revealing of the nominations for the Woman of Distinction Award YMCA/YWCA Guelph. My thought is: Occassional press is to be enjoyed like chocolate. So I have enjoyed it and say thanks to God for uplifting my work in the public view.

Spirit Alive

Today I began to choreograph Spirit Alive for the Guelph Contemporary Dance Festival working with a Lamban theme and other influences. Kwame and I have already had one meeting on the original music he is writing for me and I composed some chants as well today. I worked with Mary who dances with Jiwani. It' s great to work with Mary.
Jenny Crober and her family dropped in from Elora and I worked with her on Dr. E. Amu's composition of 1928, "Onipa da wo ho so," literally "Man rest on your self", translated "Man discipline yourself" or perhaps, "Be still". I helped her with translation and pronunciation. Twi which the Akans speak is a tonal language.
Dr Ephraim Amu was my godfather and a unique man if there ever was one. He was a man of simplicity and yet not simple; a man of humility, discipline and strength of character and altogether purposeful, who lived his life with utter conviction. His music continues to inspire Ghanaians to higher living. Today brought back memories of his voice, his conversations and his uprightness. I remembered how much he loved fried yam and pepper dip. I also remembered his unofficial national anthem, "Yen ara Asase ni," played at the close of TV broadcasting each day in Ghana!

Finding a New Direction

I am looking for a new direction for my blog, hoping I will find something which will keep me motivated to write and you waiting to read what I have to offer next. This week has been exciting. Tuesday 6th March was the 50th anniversary of Ghana's Independence. All eyes on Ghana ,with reporters from old colonial master-country, writing about the excitement and exuberance of Ghanaians while citizens continue to drink dirty water. As if we were not exploited and underdeveloped when we were colonoized for 50 years plus. Yes, we know our problems but there is a day to celebrate and hope!
Thursday was the International Day for Women and in Guelph the YWCA hosted its luncheon to announce nominees for the Woman of Distinction Awards in Guelph. What an afternoon of women,(in black mainly), speeches, photographers, good food and optimism. I am nominated for the category arts and culture alongside dance artists Janet Johnson and Catrina von Radecki and other accomplished women. Well wishes to women in general and congratulations to all the Women of Distinction. The week was busy with workshops and performances and now I look forward to resting.

The Royal on Gordon

After church we rushed to The Royal on Gordon, a plush retirement home on Gordon Street south of Guelph. We spent the afternoon recreating African storytelling, with the seniors who live there. It was a fun afternoon with engaging seniors who sang story chants with me as I told about Ananse the spider, Ijapa the tortoise and the amazing Talking Tree of the Sahel. One gentleman was born in Angola and later spent years in Kano Nigeria. One lady greeted me in Hausa which she learned in Jos. Never underestimate people, so many are so well travelled and knowledgeable. Black History month is straddling March which is a good thing because we wish for more sunshine to hurry the spring in.

End of Black History Month

February ends today but Black History and culture continues through the months if we take time to celebrate. This month we have given presentations, performances and workshops at many schools and continue to receive invitations. We were very happy to be a part of Oakville's celebration of Black history and also happy to contribute to the Waterloo celebration where my girls performed. In Guelph, a Museum exhibit of Black History with emphasis on inventors will be showcased at the university on March the 29th. Also this month Wordsworth Books of Waterloo hosted Larry Hill and Afua Cooper, an event I missed because I was giving presentations elsewhere. I have since bought a signed copy of Lawrence Hill's book, "The Book of Negroes which I hope to review later. March 6th is the 50th 'Golden' Anniversary of Ghana's Independence and all roads lead to Ghana!
Happy continuation of black history...bring in the sunshine!

Adwoa Badoe

Oakville Children's Choir

I'm back after months of absence. February is Black History Month and everything is happening at the same time. Yesterday, Fule and I were featured special guests of the Oakville Children's Choir at a choral celebration: "Great Day!" The children from Cherub choir through Intermediate, Senior and Chamber choirs amazed us with a selection of spirituals, traditonal African songs, and jazzy North American Black music. It was a treat worthy to return me to blogging and a great way to celebrate Black History Month. The Caribbean Association of Oakville mounted a great dispaly of events and personalities of history. Fulé supported the singing with drumming and I told stories: Ananse and the Pot of Wisdom and Ndiyindoda, a tribute to Mandela. Glenda Crawford is the dynamic founder and music director of the choir.

EXTREME STORYTELLING

Last Sunday, Dan Yashinsky and I told stories at our event at the GYMC and Bamidele gave us Yoruba traditional songs to the talking drum and some hi-life too.Actually the whole weekend was extreme.

On Friday evening, 24th November, we were at the Guelph Contemporary Dance Festival Extravaganza and silent auction. It was a very pleasant evening where Guelph's artsy dance crowd gathered for a sneak peek of the 2007 festival artists and to dance salsa to Mambo Nation's latin groove. Afroculture donated a baby djembe, the Griot's Journey DVD and the children's book 'My African Dance Class' to the GCDF for auctioning. The music was good and the dancing fun. I met Jay Shute, percussionist on my way out but it was Judi who convinced me to come back again after running my last errand of the night. I was glad I did.

Saturday afternoon, 25th November we were signing books at the Bookshelf for Children's Book Week: Jean Little, Jo Ellen Bogart, Kathy Stinson, Renna Bruce and I, sitting side by side, eating nuts, chatting and signing. Then at 5 o'clock Fule and I supported Bamidele's Artists for Development fundraiser.

The next day was D-day which I had been planning for about a month: Extreme Storytelling! Was it going to be possible to get Guelphites out on a Sunday night for adult storytelling? The prize was Dan Yashinsky: master storyteller, founder of the Toronto festival of storytelling, co-founder of the Toronto School of Storytellers, and the 1001 nights of storytelling. Dan is a great guy, he tells fabulous stories and is able to take his listeners into the magic web he weaves by his telling. He is also a good teacher and very generous to fellow storytellers, giving great advice and opportunities to help develop the craft. I think everyone should hear him in Canada. It was an honour to bring him over.

The night went well. Although we did not fill the hall it was a tidy audience of supportive listeners. There were a few storytellers there, Ann Estill and Brad Woods to name two of them. There were also a few kids who interacted very well and often supplied answers to Dan's dilemmas and riddles. Then ofcourse there was Prince Bamidele Bajowa with his talking drums and mini bata ensemble. The night passed well with stories of extreme risk and risky undertakings. You should have heard the stories. I told my stories from the Soninke people of West Africa, Angola and Ghana. Dan told a Jewish tale, a Russian story and a true story told him by a bus driver in the States. This is the story of my extreme weekend!

One minute poetry and six word story

Here is some word fun which we shared at my birthday party. ENJOY!!

POETRY in a minute,
ready, set, go
time's up, pens down
here is what you wrote... at Adwoa's birthday party!



We laughed
We were merry
It rained, it snowed
We still laughed
We stayed merry

The night was dark
The stars did not come out
We still laughed, we were merry

God's people
laughter in our hearts
Merriment in our souls
We laughed, we stayed merry

Sally


Words
words on a page, meanings beyond time,
words on a page, metaphors, nouns, verbs
words that fill my heart and yours
words that I give to you

Efua


My Mom pulled out a stick
Her hands moved very quick
My bum soon was sore
This seemed against every law

Asua


He came around at midnight
Stamping, kicking and yelling
Oh what noise that stops kites
Flying at heights compelling

Yvonne


Brewhaha
Cheechili bum bum
I went to town
lookin' for fun fun fun

Mary


Poetry Smoetry
Haiku Faiku
Rhyme Time
Done
Greg


Fire will burn you
No I will burn fire
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Ashes to Hope
Hope to Faith
Faith to Faith

Fule


Ratio,
Stars,
Number
Sausage
A childs dictation list?
Is it?
Or is it the mumbo jumbo
Of my psychosis

Dorothy


I wish I was still still
As I was at conception
At my beginning
Unfettered, free

Kwame


Joy is
friends gathered
around a birthday cake
candles smoking....

Adwoa


STORIES in six words or less.....

Atsu: What a great evening! Thanks Adwoa.

Fule: Why me?

Greg: This tattoo has a long story!

Greg: Roots, branches, capillaries....

Mary: Gridlock, exhaustion, door, lightswitch, SURPRISE PARTY

Kwame: Yesterday I asked Dorothy to dance.

Kwame: If only you believe in me.

Kwame: You always interrupt whenever I.....

Dorothy: She danced and danced, dropped dead...

Dorothy: She opened it and said wow.

Sally: Adwoa's jollof rice disappeared in minutes.

Sally: The dance steps told who dunnit.

Dorothy: Footsteps, gun shot, aaaaah!!!!!

Adwoa:"Move over". She falls. He walks.

Adwoa: I drum, Fule dances, they freak.

Violence against Women and Inequality of the Sexes

UN figures show that in the world, 1 in 3 women are brutalized or forced to have sexual relations. In the developed world, violence against women presents usually as domemstic abuse but in parts of the world where wars are raging, and in the aftermath of such civil unrest, there is often widespread abuse and raping of women at large. This is the situation in Congo as was shown on a TV documentary recently, where in the villages women endure recurring gang rape by out-of-control soldiers and rebels, with no protection or recourse from their governments.

In many places in Africa we have a lot to do to curb violence against women, and to legally and socially grant women equal standing and respect in society. Traditionally, such rights have not usually been accorded women. Neither have these same rights been given women anywhere in the world without a fight. If it is a fair statement to say that African men usually adore their mothers, then it is fair to say that they are as an overgeneralization somewhat unable to extend that same respect toward their wives. This basic discrepancy between sexes must be addressed from a legal, social, religious and spiritual point of view. This basic human right must be taught in schools. Women should not be considered fortunate when they find succesful and equal relationships, this is the way it must be.

Whatever religion one practices, God did not create inferiority in one sex versus the other, only different strengths. We cannot reiterate this often enough, if we are to possess a better world. Civil rights belong to all. Here's another of my poems on the topic.


Recovery

Should the showers fall tonight
We will lie out in the rain
Let lightning tear up the middle skies
Into shards and shreds of dignity and hope
Like the bloodied flesh in which we lie
Tainted by the sons we bore
May thunder echo against valley walls
Summon the panic that beat in our chests,
And mothers hear what the sons have done
By the stories we tell under the light of the moon
The other night not too long ago
When womb was slain by tens and billions
The rebel army retreated at dawn
At the blast of a whistle
To hide vampire teeth from the light of day
At dusk be not deceived!


Should the showers fall tonight
May they wash away our yesterdays
And sweep them with the current,
Out of sight, out of mind
To join the waterways of the deep
And mingle with the salt of the sea
Where we stand knee deep in turmoil
With the ocean all around
May healing return to us again
With the surge and sway of synchronized waves
Sent by the wind from the far side of the shore
Mix in powders of bark and herbs
And the roots of drifting green seaweed
Add to this the healer’s words
The songs of the mighty archangels

Should the showers fall tonight
We must hear the refrain of earthly choirs
Sister to sister, sing my song
Stand with us by the unbroken wall
I let drop my tears in a river of hope
reaching out to your store of strength

Queen Nanny on Young Street

I could have sworn that I met the unyielding spirit of Queen Nanny just yesterday. I was telling stories to seniors in Toronto, working them up to have a good time singing with me while I told them trickster stories. And I was succeeding until I asked this lady if she might tell me her name to use in my song. So far I 'd had 100 percent success until I stopped in front of this lady and politely said, "Ma'am would you tell me your name please?" "You wouldn't be able to say it." she replied. "OK," I said moving on.

The other ladies on her table said her name aloud. Since I was able to pronounce it, I used it anyway. She did not protest. That was good, I thought. Things went well for the hour. Only a few had dozed off and most of my audience seemed truly entertained. Some of them came up to say thanks as I packed my stuff to leave. Then Queen Nanny came up. She who had studiously refrained from looking directly at me throughout the performance( she had been knitting) , now came toward me. I didn't hear what she said because her voice was small and she had a peculiar Caribbean accent that I wasn't used to. She looked at me with a marked frown and severe lips so I knew she wasn't saying, "great show!"

Usually people from the islands love to hear trickster stories, particularly Anansi stories.
"Pardon me," I said.
"You didn't shake your hips like you were supposed to. I know those things!" She declared with bold accusing eyes.
"Oh, I thought I was telling stories," I said.
But she had turned her walker the other way and was already walking off.

Right then I thought of Queen Nanny, the heroic queen-mother of Jamaican maroons, captured and enslaved off the west coast of Africa with her brothers, (most likely Akans, and perhaps Ashanti) who led her people courageously in their struggle for freedom and independence on a strange land. How had she done it? She must have been a very compelling and charismatic person, forthright and perhaps intimidating such as this woman who had not smiled throughout my presentation but had none-the-less sat through it all.

Did my Africanness - my accent, clothing, stories and songs irritate Queen Nanny, who had been betrayed by other Africans so many years ago? Who is to know? I am a writer and a storyteller; I imagine , I speculate, I make connections, I weave plots.
Is it irritating for people of Caribbean descent when they are mistakened for Africans and vice-versa? Is it irritating for African Americans and African Canadians when they are mistakened for Africans or Caribbean people. Is there some kind of attitude; racism or some kind of 'ism' between different black groups in diaspora? Certainly in Africa there is still much tribalism among closely associated groups and such feelings are often encouraged and manipulated by a few who stand to gain political power.

Here's a poem by Adwoa Badoe: The Ships

It is this interruption which by itself
Has brought us sorrow upon sorrow…
We had wanted our seers to describe the heavens to us
Dresssed up in geometric metaphors, red, white and gold
Constructed in riddles, pictionary,
In-scratched on the rock faces of Gambaga scarp
We pleaded with our prophets to foretell our future lives
Staring in the furnaces of soothsaying blacksmiths
Reading the scattering of fine grey ash
When the smoke was spent and the fire long dead
We yearned for our artists to paint us black
Asymmetrically posed against the myriad forms of nature
Giving sight and color to the wind and the rain
And the cloying smells pervading the unknowable forest
Our desire was for our griots to mold our legends and heroes
From the distant fragmented past to a future among the stars
But this was not to be
Once the ships sailed in to shore

Like a chasm in our souls is the sea which entered life
The emptiness we must embrace if at all we would proceed....
(One foot after another
Chained to these memories
Dangling from iron hooks in the sky)....
To heal the keloid scars of otherness
Which having torn blood asunder
Continues still to direct dissensions
Which long ago robbed Wagadugu
Of her brilliance among the planets!
All this came to be when the ships sailed in to shore
Then they sailed away
Taking you awayfrom us
Leaving us in-te-rrup-ted for five hundred years,
till...“hello there, have we met?
I ‘m sure I know your face from a memorable place”

African Dance is Alive and Well in Guelph

What do teenage girls, young adult and adult women have in common at the Guelph Youth Music Centre? They are all doing African dance. My classes are full of strong exuberant females who are just happy to be moving to the rhythm of live drums, trying out fun, exotic and yet natural movement which the body was designed for. They are dancing with ease and liberty; exercising, shaking off the stresses of work, school and home and forgetting their responsibilities as they focus on the lesson. They realign body, soul and mind through the complex polyrhythms which vibrate through their bodies from the drums. It is heady business, euphoric and exhilarating, ending in sweat and release. In my classes are three mother and daughter students and a fourth mother daughter duo of which mom is a drummer. Something about the community of dance and the circle of women. To my mind it is most important for women to play and dance and flaunt themselves for fun and joy. It is part of being a woman. That is why every year I take pleasure in our full dress recital which we perform for family, friends and general public. If it is a long time since you danced, and really moved your feet and legs and hips and spine, then perhaps you should consider trying an African dance class to connect your self to the rhythm of old woman earth.