June 04 2012
I don’t expect you to remember, but around this time last year I took a trip to Oakland, California and it changed my world! I met so many other brown queermos and bathed in the sun and drank nettle tea from the garden every day. It was such a beautiful and eye-opening trip for me.
Well I can’t believe it, but it has been almost two weeks since I left Toronto for my rip to Treasure Beach, Jamaica. A couple of years back I remember reading or hearing about a literature festival that happened in Jamaica every year that had days of amazing writers from the Caribbean and I swore that when I could, I would go
Fast forward and this year fom May 25-27 I had the honor and the pleasure of attending the 10th annual Calabash International Writer’s Festival in Treasure Beach, St. Elizabeth, Jamaica. I was thrilled to be present for readings by: Kerry Young, Carolyn Cooper, Marcia Douglas, Alicia McKenzie, Maaza Mengiste, Victor Lavalle, Anis Mojgani and more. In addition to the scheduled performers and authors there 2 hours of open mic on the Saturday and Sunday and let me tell you, I was floored. There is such strong talent coming out of Jamaican poetry right now that I could feel the excitement flowing through my veins to my heart and becoming inspiration.
During one of the open mics I had the opportunity to read and I took it, reading a very personal piece entitled Mad Black. I wrote it a little while ago while going through some nervous times and dealing with the Medical Industrial Complex while being a queer black woman on social assistance. Not fun. Anyhow, it was what I had on hand and while it may not have been my first choice I went along with it and was glad I did. The reception (based on applause, haha) was mixed and I felt a wave of shame and embarrassment for reading something so vulnerable. I was comforted and reassured by my traveling companion and then later by a man who approached me to talk about the subject matter and to tell me he thought it was a brave move I had made. Blessings.
The festival was just one part of my trip as I stayed in the rural town both before and after it. We stayed at a little villa and beach cottage called Cacona. It was one of a string of well-priced and hospitable cottage/bed and breakfast types lining the beach. I can’t place what it was that made me choose it for our destination but I did and am glad I did so. It is a smaller, out of the way place so was empty except for us for the first few days. In that time we got to know our outstanding host Alicia and her not-quite-two year old son Dream. It was beautiful. Just sitting on the patio or out in the red dirt surrounded by mewing, too skinny kittens and this small family felt so right. Between Dream and all of the festival babies (and their mothers), my womb was throbbing throughout the entire trip and now I can still feel yearning of motherhood creeping around my consciousness. Le sigh.
Something else that really has stuck with me is the sense of national pride that I experienced there. This year marks the 50th anniversary of Jamaica’s independence from Britain and the LOVE that people have for the well being of their people and their country is pretty rad. I mean, I just have no lived experience of people caring so much and fighting so hard for, say, Canada. Being “Canadian” means not a lot to me because of my position as both a descendant of slaves and a settler on Native land. Tres Complique. Coming here to Canada was a difficult and important goal for my family. It involved saving and spending what little money they had as well as the wrenching separation of mothers from children for as long as ten years at a time. It is a hard place to be resting in these days: not quite here (canada) not quite there (jamaica).
I’ve returned from my trip feeling grounded in my own strength and invested in learning and living more of my Jamaican roots. I learned so much about history, activism, the environment and all of it just grabbed a hold of me and won’t let go. The nation has swept me up in its pride and capacity for social change. The more I learn about my own anscestral heritage and its complex geography of connections, the more I want to learn about Jamaican histories.
There’ll be more on this as my memories settle and my ideas formulate. I’m sure of it. xo
Fold a Fitted Sheet 