"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."
I don't believe this is because cricket is an inferior game. But, in the eyes of the punters, football rules. This is true, not only in Britain but also in the Caribbean. I was therefore surprised that Channel 4 felt it could cash in on the enthusiasm shown for the Reggae Boyz by putting on a concert at Lords. West Indies tours to Britain in the '60s, '70s and '80s served a much wider purpose that went beyond hearing leather on willow. For those of us oppressed in the context of slavery and colonialism, the black body was something to be despised. It was particularly important for the Windrush generation and during the '50s and '60s, when the factory and the street were open season for racists.
Many have blamed the Windies' decline on the MTV generation, who are more interested in American basketball than cricket. And cricketers, although still idolised in the Caribbean, would never earn the amounts of Michael Jordan or Shaquille O'Neal. In this sense, James placed cricket on the same level as Western literature. "We live in one world," he wrote in a 1969 essay, "and we have to find out what is taking place in the world. And I, a man of the Caribbean, have found that it is in the study of Western literature, Western philosophy and Western history that I have found out the things that I have found out, even about the underdeveloped countries." Throughout his life James viewed cricket as a means of helping unite a disparate set of islands, of establishing a Caribbean as opposed to an island mentality. He had little difficulty in understanding why Norman Tebbit should make cricket the basis of his loyalty test - or why most black people would fail it.
The irony of the black man with his top off - such as almost any black music star you care to mention - is that it doesn't say to me: "Look at this wonderful black man with his six-pack." We were never wanted for our minds, which was why it was illegal to teach slaves to read. We were flesh, a commodity, labour. As today's black man shows off his pride and joy, the modern billboard becomes the equivalent of yesteryear's slave stocks. The tragedy with the flesh doesn't end there. Too many of us are impressed by a black fascism which fails to question the oppressive power structures of idealised family structures or the obsession with genes, blood and national pride.
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.
"It is a play about two people who love each other," explains Greta Mendez, the play's Trinidadian-born director. "The external elements of racism have affected their relationship. "As the battle is raging in Trinidad, [Elvira] and [Rohan] are raging. They are having their own coup and trying to work it out." "I call it the battlefield of heart and soul" "The divide-and-rule syndrome is still happening and the play is saying, `Let us look at that'." * Coups and Calypsos runs until February 28 at the Oval House, 52-54 Kennington Oval, London SE11 at 7.45 pm each night. Tickets from £5.50; box office: 0171-5827680.
Prophet and loss: A [Bob Marley] documentary forms the centrepiece of a Channel 4 special series on the Caribbean The music continues on August 7 with Top Ten: Caribbean, a celebration of Latino, reggae, ragga, hip-hop and everything in between with the 10 most successful Caribbean chart acts in pop history. Representing the lighter side of Caribbean life is rising star Richard Blackwood in a one-off Caribbean special of his entertainment series, The Richard Blackwood Show.
Yet [Dennis Morris]'s `funny' speech not only attracted [Bob Marley] but helped to open a door into the exciting world of photography that would soon spiral him towards success. Now people will be able to get an eyeful of Morris's talent in Growing up Black, an exhibition in London depicting his life as a '70s teenager. "My black friends couldn't understand why I wanted to associate with a white punk band," Morris says.
"The Black church is the success story of the arrival of the Empire Windrush. Therefore the church should not be an appendix to the celebrations but at the heart of it." So says Angela Sarkis, chief executive of the Church Urban Fund and vice-president of the African Caribbean Evangelical Alliance (ACEA). Pauline Graham, the coordinator of the churches' Windrush celebration, is encouraging congregations, is encouraging congregations to write in for a Windrush Information Pack. * For further information, contact Ms Graham at ACEA, Whitefield House, 186 Kennington Park Road, London SE11 4BT, or telephone 0171-735 7373.
