In 1996, the colleges and universities of America yielded thousands of graduates, 27% of them black, and of those, 12% were of Caribbean descent. These young Caribbean graduates are a unique entity. They represent a conglomerate of knowledge that could be utilized in America or in the Caribbean. Each year, a new group of Caribbean graduates faces an interesting dilemma: to build a life in the country that has educated them or to build a life in the country that holds their heritage, culture, and traditions. Should a young man from Jamaica who has come to the U.S. to become a doctor not go back to Jamaica at the end of his schooling armed with and American degree and better his own country? Should the young woman from Belize with a B.S. in biology from Cornell not return to Belize and put her knowledge to work for the betterment of her country?
"It was shocking to see the changes made," [Marleine Bastien] told The Times. "The U.S. does not have the capacity to detain all persons that make it to this country. This policy mainly targets Haitians." The U.S. Department of Justice released a statement which said, "Rumors of successful entry into the United States have fueled migration surges, and any perception of a relaxing U.S. immigration policy could cause future migrations at sea ... "Miami Immigration and Naturalization Services Chief of Staff John Shewairy said the revisions have been designed to deter large numbers of Haitians from migrating to the U.S. He told The Times that detention of the asylum-seekers who arrived by boat on Oct. 29 is an effort to thwart "smuggling" of migrants from Haiti.
Dominicans fete late, and even after three nights of nonstop music there must be upwards of 4,000 people waiting to hear the last band. As Haiti's most famous kompa group - Tabou Combo - takes the stage, exhaustion is dispelled by their relaxed "C'est Tambou", an invitation to a dancing-at-dawn session which continues long after the sun has climbed into the sky. The Haitians in the press box break into spontaneous dance, some straying on-stage; couples slip into each others' arms, moving in effortless elegance, and Dominica's minister of tourism, Norris Prevost, inquires whether this is not the best party I've ever seen. Haiti's Magnum Band with St. Lucian Luther Francois on sax blasted away the wee-hours fatigue with flowing funk and konpa over vodou rhythms and soaring lyrical soukous guitar. It was nearly 7:30 a.m. when Guadeloupe's Taxi Creole ended a tight, driving set which drew on zouk, salsa, merengue, beguine, reggae, jazz and funk.
Watching Caryl Phillips' excellent The Final Passage was a difficult process. Not just because it was a brilliant exploration of the last 30 years or so, showing the achievements and limitations of the Windrush generation, but, more importantly, because it exposed how we have been starved of intelligent, well-made Black programmes which offer us the possibility of serious reflection on our condition in this country. Phillips achieves a wonderful thing in his drama - he converts all our individual stories of moving to Britain and setting up home into a mass celebration of common history. The Final Passage thus becomes a template of sorts of the recent beginnings of Black Britain. Whether we are from an African or Caribbean background, there were scenes and emotions which we all recognised from our own histories. Control Many people didn't like The Final Passage because they felt that it yet again reinforced the negative view of Black men. But they need to be reminded that this is a work of fiction, not reality. And Caryl Phillips' main achievement in the series is to give us, in [Michael], the first truly great tragic-heroic Black character on British television. The lessons of his life should resonate in our time - a sort of angled mirror. He will remain a constant reminder of the need to bury the `colonial creation' - the Black man who is only able to manifest himself through his dreams rather than through the reality of day-to-day action.
Mayor [Rudolph Giuliani] proclaimed Monday, August 4, "Jamaica Independence Day" in the city. He presented Jamaica's consul general to New York - Fay Baxter-Collins - and Jamaica's permanent representative to the United Nations - Ambassador Patricia Durrant - with a written proclamation of "Jamaica Independence Day".
"I wanted to write a play that celebrated the journey of our parents," explains [Kwame Kwei-Armah]. "A lot of the previous plays tell us the old, grey story about `No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish,' but that isn't very entertaining. "Growing up, I had a big nose but when Afrocentricty came in the '80s suddenly I had an African nose," recalls Kwame. "[Chris Monks] is White and together we have a play that is accessible to all communities," says Kwame. "It's not just about Black issues, it deals with universal themes like love, feeling inadequate and beauty."
Friday, Oct. 29 was Kweyol Day, a celebration of island identity and culture. While the official language of the Commonwealth of Dominica is English, 80 percent of the population speak Kweyol, a legacy of early French settlement. Kweyol language and folk culture, after being sidelined, dismissed or denigrated during the British colonial period, has played an important role in forging the identity of independent Dominica since 1978. People's irritation with a late start was quickly dissolved. After the Stars, the Vodou rhythms of Haiti's seminal roots music band Boukman Eksperyans reverberated through Festival City. Named after the Vodou priest who presided over the ceremony that ignited Haiti's slave rebellion, Boukman Eksperyans has been at the forefront of taking the Vodou beat into the arena of world music. Tabou Combo, the most famous and long-lived Haitian Konpa band, seemed reluctant to leave the stage, but from 5 a.m., Festival City was overrun by WCK, [Dominica]'s marathon bouyon band, with whom I was still chipping at breakfast time. Not even a large pot of extra-strong Dominican coffee could revive me, and I retired battered and rambling in Kweyol, to recover in Trinidad.
The reception to the idea was favorable. In 1994, further discussions were held with Mexico, Columbia and Venezuela and with Argentina and Chile. The response was positive and to further support the idea, the ambassadors of the Latin American countries who were accredited to Jamaica, and Spain's ambassador, formed the Group of Latin America and the Caribbean as a forum for exchanging ideas and considering financial participation by their governments. In 1994, the Latin American-Caribbean Centre was created to facilitate economic, trade, research and cultural ties between the Caribbean and Latin America. The center's fundamental objective is to build strong commercial, cultural and academic ties between the Caribbean and Latin American regions and among the Caribbean countries. According to Ms. Insanally, "Economic development is one of the principal objectives of LACC. Expanding trade, investment, and tourism between the Caribbean and Latin American countries will generate income and employment, as well as stimulate technological modernization and international competitiveness. Academic and cultural development are important ends in themselves, and they also stimulate business relationships, and vice versa."
Needless to say, it would take more than this short column to list all her accomplishments and all the legislative activities she had been involved in. Suffice it to say, however, she fought very hard, not only for her constituencies, but also for what was right. And this is the point that requires a reflective pause for the Haitian community. The Haitian community, along with some non-Haitian observers, has always felt that it has been discriminated against by U.S. immigration policies. Back in the 1980's and the early 1990's, there were many Haitian activists who took to the streets and to the airwaves to decry these discriminatory policies. However, none of the Haitian activists were elected officials. Certainly, the efforts of these activists were very important and sometimes fruitful in the context of exposing the inequality of these policies to the larger American public.
"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."
