The celebration officially started with a combination press conference and job fair at FIU's Biscayne Campus. Co-sponsored by Miami-Dade County and the South Florida Workforce, the FIU event featured a luncheon hosted by Emiline Alexis of the County Mayor's office. The job fair was held in honor of Haitian Labor Day and was held in the lobby and patio of FIU's Wolfe Center. Sunday was an especially busy day with a book reading at the Mapou Bookstore in Little Haiti, a complimentary buffet featuring foods (and music) from all nine of Haiti's Departments (provinces), and an infectious and intoxicating display of Haitian drumming and vocal performances called "Zaka" in the Design Destrict.
Biographer Delia Jarrett-Macauley stumbled across Marson's name while doing research for another book. The book has been well-received throughout Britain. Copies have sold out during every one of Jarrett-Macauley's book-signings and scheduled talks. "I saw this clipping that said, `Una Marson, the well-known BBC producer is now on holiday in Jamaica.' And I said: `What! You mean we had a black woman producer at the BBC as early as 1945 and we don't know about it.' I decided her story must be known," she said. Marson joined the BBC in 1936 and made an immediate impact, rising rapidly through the ranks. In 1942 she became the West Indies producer and created the Caribbean Voices programme, which won exposure and respectability for Caribbean writers and poets.
Here in Florida, Caribbean people may not celebrate with Junkonoos, but with their cousins the Mocko Jumbies. All over South Florida the Kwuya or stilt dance has become quite popular and includes the participation of children as well. This ritual dance is especially popular among Trinidadians. A newly-formed parang group, the Punto Finale, is testimony to the enduring appeal of Caribbean Christmas celebrations even when one is miles away from home. Led y Ruby Limare, with Dr. Dawn Batson as one of the 12 members, this group has been serenading South Floridians with lively Spanish-style Christmas music that has been part of the season's celebrations in Trinidad for centuries. Kwanzaa, which means first fruits of harvest, is a celebration that many Caribbean people can relate to because of its Afro-Centric base and its focus on family life, self-reliance, and culture. Although Kwanzaa begins the day after Christmas, its celebrations embraces this age-old tradition of Christmas day.
The genesis of these carnivals carries the intent of resisting on some level, by Caribbean migrants, the otherwise alienating conditions of life in migration, to "carnivalise" these landscapes with some of the joy and space commensurate with Caribbean carnival. Indeed, Caribbean intellectual contributions have had successful impact on the development of U.S., European and African thought. Still, the Caribbean in most imaginings, and in particular to those who do not know it well, is the place of "sun and fun," a vacation land devoid of serious engagement with the world. Caribbean carnival then is the climax of all those "sun and fun" constructions. Yet, there is a history and politics to carnival - a "carnival of resistance" beyond the outer face of "carnival of tourism" - that demands exposure.
They continued to avoid the racially-motivated behavior of many in the Cuban population in South Florida. In fact, the Caribbean (black?) organizers of the carnival care so little that they were happily prepared to give away the carnival's culture-driven economic and social enterprise to the Cuban community, even if the Cubans didn't really want anything to do with it, like Jewish Miami Beach and WASP downtown didn't. Does this mean that the huge economic infusion that was offered to other communities for acceptance is going to be realized by the people in Opa-Locka? Because, suddenly, it's as if some people belatedly became a little blacker; after all, they're home, they claim, to Opa-Locka. Yeah, right. The carnival organizers have some cojones, if not much sense of appropriateness. They outdid themselves in their fantasizing (but then, that's carnival). They opted for Hialeah and tried to hitch their wagon to Mayor Penelas' new coattail. Somebody needed to remind them of some of the politics involved. Seems Mayor Alex and Mayor [Raul Martinez] `don't tek tea', as we say in the Caribbean. Probably something to do with Alex backing the candidate who ran against Raul. Next stop, Hialeah City Hall. The rest, they say, is history.
The fall season is always a kickoff for months of celebrations. From Rosh Hashanah to Columbus Day to Veteran's Day and of course Thanksgiving fall becomes a season of celebrations. And Caribbean folk in their usual creative manner fit their traditions and celebrations right into the thick of things. "Ethnic Brides is all about acknowledging the rich heritage of our African and cosmopolitan background, of mixing traditional with contemporary to make one's wedding memorable, exciting and rich in heritage," says Jacqui Scott, who hosted the event. Especially thought provoking was the poem "Dat bumpy Head Gal", inspired by her real-life experience where she was criticized by some members of the Jamaican public for wearing her "chiney bump" hairstyle on television.
Last Wednesday, the Haitian American Cultural Society and the Consul General of Haiti recognized non-Haitians of merit in a very special way: with honorary Haitian citizenship. Among the honorees, most notable were Miami-Dade Mayor Alex Penelas, Miami-Dade Commissioner Barbara Carey-Shuler, and Congresswoman Carrie Meek. For Meek, the recognition has added historical significance.
"Nothing can bring back those days," Mrs [Letitia Rose] declared. "Everything has changed. Nowadays, I don't bother to do a lot of shopping because it is not as enjoyable." "The party was usually held in a big park," she recalled. "There would be lots of food and music playing until late into the night. While the big people danced we used to have our little secret boyfriends and a group of us would to go off and play hide and seek. "As children in Jamaica, we used to organise parties and collect gifts for needy children in the community," said [Iris Gordon], who helped set up the Jamaica Heart Foundation. "Making children happy is what I enjoy most about this time of the year."
Occasionally, a rare talent emerges, such as Lauryn Hill or Maxwell, whereas previously the talent came in hordes. Look at the way Lauryn Hill has gone back to Bob Marley and Stevie Wonder for inspiration and technique. She's still a rap artist but here is a woman who has learnt her trade. It's a question of feeling basically unsafe around a generation that has no respect for its elders.
This means that we must find ways of re-making and continuing the Caribbean traditions that our forefathers brought with them when they got off the Windrush. For me, there are three important lessons. The first is what I call the anatomy of Black existence; put simply, the understanding of the key factors that shape one's life. Second, the ability to take no nonsense, particularly from White people and, thirdly, a sense of humour. This cry is not just for schools to do more Black history. They are actually saying that they have no road map, no narrative structure of their existence in this world as Black people. They are disconnected from the strength and depth of those folks who travelled on the Windrush. It's as if they were orphans connected to no meaningful history or narrative other than the White structures around them. These people were spiritual, not in the religious sense with denominations and heavy moralising, but in the way they used the Judeo-Christian tradition in trying to understand the Black story. The most powerful and popular way in which this was expressed was through Rastafarianism. The second Windrush value is the power to get vex and fight racism. One thing I can say for certain in 1998 is that a disproportionately high number of Black males will die in police custody under suspicious circumstances. My parents told me after the Notting Hill riots in the '50s, White people realised `you don't mess with a West Indian'. Schools, the police and politicians must not be allowed to take us for granted.
