Womanish Words

Hey Patriarchy, Get Out of Our Uteruses

2012-01-08T12:42:00.000-08:00

This morning I signed a petition demanding justice for the 346,219 Peruvian women forcibly sterilized by the Fujimori regime in a supposed birth control programme supported by the United States and the United Nations, carried out in that country throughout the 1990s. The Care2 petition states that “aggressive and forceful tactics used by medical staff and police made it clear this was not a programme that allowed women to choose whether or not they were sterilized.” The awfulness of this is stunning, but really it is old hat to the Patriarchy which knows well that Invading, colonizing and controling the wombs (and bodies) of women is the first step toward absolute domination. I went over to Global Voices On Line to find out more about former Peru President Alberto Fujimori (where did we get our information before this place?) and an article written by Isabel Guerra the ex-president is serving a 25 year prison sentence, having been convicted of crimes against humanity in his own country, (this has never happened anywhere before) including attempted murder, murder and aggravated kidnapping . He was never made to face charges for what amounts to the rape and permanent injury of these many thousands of women who were forcibly sterilized. In their names, Fujimori should serve out his sentence.

Save the Indians: Don't Buy Sugar, Soy From Brazil

2012-01-07T12:20:00.000-08:00

Today my thoughts are filled with a grieving solidarity with the Guarani-Kaiowa Indians of Brazil. Global Voices Online coverage of indigenous rights is reporting they are being gunned down on the Amambai indigenous reserve, after years of seeing their ancestral lands stolen and destroyed by agri-business. Their wilderness has been replaced by cattle ranches, soybean plantations and sugar mills where the Indians are forced to cut sugarcane from sunrise to sunset for pitiful wages and in slave-like conditions. Now they are being massacred with impunity. According to the article by Yohana de Andrade, a hoard of gunmen attacked the reserve last November, executing the chief and causing students of a university to write a letter on their behalf in which they said they hold the state, the politicians and the Brazilian society responsible for the deaths because they say and do nothing to stop the Indian genocide. Apparently about 250 Guarani Kaiowa have been killed in Mato Grosso do Sul in the past eight years. “These attacks take place at the same time as Brazil consolidates its position as one of the leading exporters of agricultural goods and biofuels in the world,” Yohana de Adrade wrote, “with Mato Grosso do Sul being one of its most productive states.” She quotes the current chief who said his homeland has now become a place where “ the cane stalk is worth more than the Indian, a cow more than an indigenous community, a bean sprout more than an indigenous child.”

Of course this story makes me think of the Caribbean Indians we lost, and of the ones that remain among us, invisible to our eyes, in spirit and in the flesh. They too were masacred, their genocide was also for the sake of money and the seizure of ancestral lands. I’ve long been convinced that so much of the sadness and hopelessness that grips my city is the result of the lingering trauma of genocide. Because even if the people forget, the land remembers, the Earth herself remembers what happened and she is still grieving. There was no one around to speak for the Lokono Indians of the Bahamas all those five hundred years ago, when the invaders were mowing them down and throwing their bodies into the sea. I am trying to speak for them now in the poems that I write. Today I feel obligated to speak for the Guarani-Kaiowa Indians of Brazil, to tell you about them and their struggle to stay alive today, to encourage you to pay attention to what is happening to them. Their stories need to be heard, we should listen and hear them, and all the other Indigenous peoples of the world who continue to be under similar attack every day. Lets bring the invisible ones into our sight again. Because they are us. When they strike down the Indigenous peoples of Mother Earth in this way we are all injured. When we say nothing about it we are in collusion with the bad guys. So I say to Brazil, in the name of my Lokono ancestors, stop the genocide of the Indians.

What else can we do? We can stop buying Brazilian sugar and soy products, and we should look again at the whole corn-for-fuel thing that sounds like a good green idea until you learn that human lives and the planet itself are being sacrificed in order to produce it.

Storytellers as Agents for Justice

2012-01-06T10:27:00.000-08:00

I am thinking about stories, how powerful they are, how the act of telling them is also incredibly powerful. Writers and artists of every kind are the storytellers of humankind, and the most important of these to me in my daily life are the ones who dare to tell the stories their cultures, traditions, religions and corrupt governments don’t want them to tell. They are the sacred souls among us who understand that the stories they have to tell have the power to “split the world open,” to topple an oppressive regime, to change the minds of an entire generation about who they are and who they can be, to transform a single person from a helpless victim into an agent of her own liberation. Like the storytellers I’m reading about today at Global Voices Online in a post by Juliana Rincon Parra. She reports that artists of Mexico who, in reaction to the violence and impunity tearing into the heart of that country for too many years now, are creating videos in which they portray a single victim of the violence, telling the true story of how they were murdered and how their killers have never been brought to justice. The storytellers are also being called to comment on the fact that the violence and the impunity “are only possible through the lawlessness and corruption of the Mexican state.” But at the heart of the campaign is the enduring belief among the artists and others collaborating that a single story that tells the truth about an injustice has the power to change everything. Who can hear the voice of a murdered woman calling for justice from the grave, not only for herself but for her murdered daughter too, and not be changed, not be moved, not be inspired to add their own voices to the call for peace and justice? Mexican artists asking the citizenry to join them in this campaign are doing the work that they are meant to do. They are fulfilling their true roles as storytellers by showing their beloved the way to retrieve the personal power, selfhood, and agency stolen from them by the soldiers of the state and their guns and gangsters of the drug war and their guns. They are leading the good people of that country out of powerlessness and hopelessness by way of the voice, the story, and the storytelling art, into a place where they stand a chance of surviving, of restoring peace and justice to Mexico, and to their own lives. They are the best of Mexico, coming to the fore in the worst of times, like the greatest artists always do. They embody hope, inspire hope in others with their good storytelling work. They remind us how powerful we become when we break our own silences, when we tell the stories of our lives out loud and demand they be heard. I hope the Mexican people answer their call and lend their voices to this powerful project. I hope we listen and hear them.

What about us? What of the stories we know of victims of violence who have never received justice? Shouldn’t we be telling their stories? Shouldn’t we be breaking some silences too?

A Rant Poem For International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women

2011-11-25T06:05:00.000-08:00

It is the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women and i am thinking about the way mainstream (patriarchal) culture can discuss the global pandemic of violence against women and somehow avoid directly mentioning the violent men (and there are apparently hoards and hoards of them out there ) who are the perpetrators of these crimes. Why do we avoid calling it the International Day for the Elimination of Male Violence Against Women? As I write this I see that UN Secretary General Ban Ki-moon has said in his address for this day that "young men and boys must be encouraged to become advocates", that we must "promote healthy models of masculinity" and get rid of "outmoded male stereotypes" if we're going to make any headway in this struggle.

How can we eliminate male violence against women? To begin, shouldn't we first take a good look at that male violence, name it, define it, look at it long and unflinchingly so that we know what we are up against, so that we know exactly what is wrong and how to address it? I tried to do that in a rant poem called Patriarchal Rap, written a few years ago, and humbly offer it to you today. It's not great literature. But it is my honest attempt to contribute to the naming and defining of male violence against women, of defining it so that we can recognize it, and stop it. I thank you for hearing.

Patriarchal Rap

I am a godly man.
I beat my woman whenever I can.
Don’t you know that she likes it this way
Her wounds will get her into heaven one day.
See her sit down so obediently
See her recite God’s word so reverently.
She learned this at the end of my fist
She was bred so as to never resist.
I took over where her daddy left off,
It will never be said that as a man I am soft.
Its my job to knock the devil out of her,
The boss-men are Jehovah, Rasta Fari and Allah,
I chose gods and masters who would demand and bless
A man’s greatest prize: a silent woman in a bloody dress.

I am a godly man.
As good a slaver as any you can name.
Got my own plantation in the neighbourhood,
Its my turn to wield the whip and draw the blood,
She is willing to receive every blow,
She believes her rightful place is far below
She remembers her final attempt to escape,
Of being brought down by the dogs of poverty and rape,
And the women of God, handmaids in Feminist disguise
Who marked their exes and assured her demise.
It took a few broken bones for her to finally agree
Compliance is better than the loneliness of living free,
Her community doesn’t care if she dies in the night,
Her church is strengthened when she is drained of the fight.

I am a godly man.
I got the Bible as proof and the Koran.
From east to west are all my brothers in agreement,
Six feet down the dead women encased in cement,
This is my culture as my grandfather created it
A broken woman’s what I need to perpetuate it,
You have to beat her down good but do not kill her,
Leave her breath enough to make your dinner,
First you hate her, then put her to work,
Laugh till she’s too shamed to rise up out of the dirt,
Whether she is a maid, a mother, or a parliament member,
All Bahamian women give over their bodies for tender,
She will never save a self I taught her to deplore,
She can only pray to be allowed entry at heaven’s back door.

I am a godly man.
I forgive her femaleness with the back of my hand,
Keep her pregnant with the next generation,
I live so well in this woman-hating nation,
I am sovereign king and all women are my peasantry,
I got my posse in the pulpit and in the assembly,
I got balls as big as P.I. and nobody can touch me,
I could kill her dead right now and no one would stop me,
Am I not as a god, calling murder divine?
Do I not feel as a god feels when I kick her to the ground?
See how she carries a book of my laws in her hands,
Surely it is plain for you all to see that I, I am a godly man.

People of Nassau, You Too Mean on Halloween.

2011-11-03T10:50:00.000-07:00

I know this is late but I have something to say to the people of Nassau who refuse to welcome trick or treating children to their houses on Halloween: You must be the meanest people on Earth. You use a fear of crime as an excuse for your mean-hearted refusal to come together as a community and co-create some safe fun and good memories for children. You say it is not safe. Instead of contributing to the safety by lighting up your homes, by coming out with your flashlights and your good humour and your community spirit, instead of being the good people rising up to make the streets safe again, you all slink into your holes, plunge the streets into darkness, hid behind your mean curtains while sad little children in costumes are walking around or being driven around in the darkness by mothers trying and failing to provide some fun for their kids. You complain bitterly about how Nassau is not a nice place to live anymore but you contribute nothing to make it better. People in dark houses on Halloween night who hide from trick or treating little children deserve to have their yards toilet papered. Same for people at Christmas who do not come outside to listen when carolers are singing in their front yards, who do not sing along or say thank you with a cup of coffee or a handshake, who plunge their mean houses into darkness and hide till the carolers go away. Again, you say it is because you are afraid of crime but really it is because you are mean, lazy and cheap, Christmas carolers after all are often raising money for children's charities when they go caroling. To all you people who say you don't like Halloween so that you can relieve yourselves of the responsibility of contributing to a fun, safe, community , holiday event for children, I say to you:, you are the reason Nassau is a scary place to live. You contribute to the darkness. You abandon the children to the darkness instead of creating light for them. It takes creative imagination, community spirt and a love of children to create a memorable Halloween holiday experience, you people hiding in the dark on Halloween night, you have none of these. People of Nassau, you too mean on Halloween.

Outrage in Trinidad Over TV Airing of Child Rape

2011-10-27T21:35:00.000-07:00

I am standing in solidarity tonight with Trinidadian blogger activist Simone Leid, author of the blog "Women Speak, Women Tell Their Stories of Discrimination." She and her readers are outraged and raising hell about a Trinidad television station's October 25th airing of the rape of a thirteen year old girl. "In a country where the cries of a child being raped can be aired at prime time... is it any wonder that we are a country whose rates of murder of women by domestic partners and rape are among the highest in the world?" said Leid on her blog today. "I cannot sit idly by and merely shake my head at this abomination. The rape of a child aired on a television show notorious for sensationalizing, and packaging criminal activity and the trauma of victims as entertainment signals that we have reached an all new level of barbarism," Leid is calling for TV6 Trinidad to take the offending show "Crime Watch" off the air and asking her readers to join her by lodging complaints with the Telecommunications Authority of Trinidad and Tobago, providing a link by which to do so on her blog. "We demand higher standards of decency, empathy and justice for women and girls," Leid said. "We each have a voice. Let us use it."

I grieve for the child who survived a gang rape only to be violated again by a grossly irresponsible and exploitative television show. All kinds of people need to be fired at TV6 Trinidad for their negligence in the airing of this violent crime. I hope Leid keeps speaking out about the film that is outraging all who hear of it. We women especially need to be outraged about the insidious rape culture that pervades our Caribbean reality and identity, we need to speak out in protest for those victims who have lost their voices, the way Leid is speaking for this rape victim, we need to stand together with one another when human rights crimes like this one are committed against women and girls. I'll be joining Leid and filing a complaint. Maybe a petition is in order demanding a full investigation into how the show obtained film footage of the crime and demanding too that someone be held accountable for it. I would sign such a petition.

The War Against Women and Children in the Bahamas Rages On

2011-10-25T10:03:00.001-07:00

The war against women and children in the Bahamas rages on. Another young person has been murdered in Nassau, this time a fifteen year old girl stabbed to death in her home in a family quarrel. The papers say the father is assisting with the investigation and we know what that means. It has only been a few weeks since the murder of a 12 year old boy and as far as I know no one has been charged with that murder. Now another family is suffering unbearable loss, another child has fallen in war. Because make no mistake. This is a war alright. A war against women and children . And two children are the latest casualties. The war against women and children in The Bahamas has been raging on behind closed doors and out in the streets for years and years, now it is at at a nightmarish level. This war that was dismissed for years as "domestic" violence is by far the biggest and most damaging social problem we have and it is destroying us all. (Don't cal this latest child killing an incidence of "domestic" violence. Don't trivialize the violence that so many women and children endure in this town with this passe and dangerously dismissive labeling of the epidemic. Somehow the word infers that there is real violence, the kind worth dealing with, and then there is the domestic kind. Violence in the home is real indeed. And it is the most insidious kind too because people pretend they cannot see it. Take the Prime Minister for example, who addressed the nation on crime when the boy was found murdered and announced sweeping reform to combat violent crime but never mentioned that women and children are the primary victims of violent crime. He blamed illegal firearms and drugs for the violence, not the hoards of angry, violent, disaffected Bahamian men who commit these crimes, who were probably raised in homes that were torn apart by violent men. He never mentioned the child abuse epidemic that has gripped this country for all my adult life. In the precious little public discourse that we do have about the war against women and children we always manage to leave out these critical details, leaders always fail to make tjese connections. I want to hear more talk about the MEN WHO ARE COMMITTING THE VIOLENT CRIMES. Who are they? Where do they come from? Here's a shocker. They are us. They come from us.

Nothing irritates me more than people who talk about crime like they don't know where the criminals come from. Like they mysteriously dropped out of the sky into our idyllic little island town full of perfect people. They wax on about the good old days of the tamarind switch and the cat o' nine tails and the fact that children were regularly whipped at home and also by any neighbour who felt like hitting someone who could not fight back. They talk about how great Nassau used to be and how they don't know what happened. Here's a direct quote from one of those fools: "In the Nassau I grew up in people trembled at the mere mention of the cat o' nine tails and tamarind switch ruled many backsides and we thank God to this day as most of us turned out pretty good and are law abiding." Really? Who then is committing the terrible crimes of today? This self-righteous pinhead had the nerve to go on to say that his generation "instilled character, strength and virtue" with all the tamarind switch beatings and whippings. Say what? Apparently his generation has instilled anger, hatred, despair and violent criminal behaviour. The older generation needs to stop bragging about the violence they grew up in, get conscious and begin to take some responsibility for the mess they made of things. Bahamians need to understand that beating children is not a virtue but a crime. It was then and is now. And why do they talk like Bahamian children are not being beaten any longer? They are still brutalized every day, we call it the child abuse epidemic. But these days the abusers no longer use a tamarind switch. Now they use rape. Now they use a knife.

Lets Be Inspired to Keep On Giving A Dam About Women's Rights

2011-10-08T19:00:00.000-07:00

It is wonderful to hear that three women’s rights activists will share this year’s Nobel Peace Prize. Congratulations to Liberian President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, activist Leymah Gbowee of Liberia and activist Tawakkui Karman of Yemen. They were chosen “for their nonviolent struggle for the safety of women and for women’s rights to full participation in peace-building work.” I hope the prize aids them in their ongoing struggles for equality and liberty for women. I hope it will uplift the spirit of the women’s movement worldwide and encourage us all to continue to keep on giving a dam about women’s rights, to keep on believing in our own individual power to make a difference. It strikes me as crucially important that these women were awarded the prize for their efforts to create SAFETY for women. Women of the Bahamas know well what it means to live without safety. We need to wake up and talk about the crime situation in our country in terms of it being an issue of women's (and children's) human rights. It was the brutal murder of a mother's child that caused the Prime Minister to address the nation and promise reform last week. He made no mention of crime being a women's rights issue, but of course it is. Crime in the Bahamas denies women and their children the right to safety, which is a human right. The new Nobel laureates I hope will remind Bahamian women of this human right to safety , and inspire us to courage enough to speak out when this right is denied to us. I hope they will inspire women in the Bahamas and in the Caribbean to wake up and join the global women's movement, to stop disavowing ourselves from feminism (we all owe pretty much everything that is good in our modern lives to the feminist movement), to get educated about women's issues locally and globally, to join the cause in word and action, to begin to care about the lives of other women, to take a handful of that precious love they all reserve for Jesus and give it to a sister at risk instead, to give our best creative work to the global women's movement and to the idea of a world where women are safe, free and happy. Lets think of ways in which we can contribute to the creation of this world. It could happen. And everyone would be blessed.

Mourning Professor Wangari Mathai

2011-09-27T07:49:00.000-07:00

“Women have become aware that planting trees or fighting to save forests from being chopped down is part of a larger mission to create a society that respects democracy, decency, adherence to the rule of law, human rights, and the rights of women.”
NOBEL PEACE LAUREATE PROFESSOR WANGARI MATHAI

I am just now hearing of the passing of Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Professor Wangari Mathai, who created The Green Belt Movement and with the help of rural communities led by women planted forty million trees across Africa, transforming deserts to forests and women from victims of poverty into agents of their own economic empowerment. I am shedding real tears of sorrow for the loss of her. I believe she was the greatest woman leader of our time, she knew the connection between forests and peace and prosperity. Between economic empowerment and equal rights for women and the wellbeing of the whole community and how planting trees would bring them to that empowered place.

When I first heard of Professor Mathai and her tree magic that was saving the Earth and the lives of women in Kenya, I was already having my own obsessive thoughts about the connection between trees and forests and the wellbeing of the community. Once I knew of her and the Nobel Peace Prize she won for her work I no longer felt silly talking about how I was sure that if we planted more trees, more gardens, there would be less terrible crime, less poverty, less despair. That more trees meant more beauty, more peace, more abundance, more food, more water, more spirit, more hope, more equality, more empowerment for women, more positive transformation into a race of humans that once again lives in harmony with the Earth Mother and with one another. Professor Mathai affirmed for me that we can indeed reforest the Earth and save the human race, that it is not too late. I know her fabulous Green Belt Movement will continue their great work across Africa and she will be their spirit guide.

As for me, I will plant a tree in thanks for her life, of course, this is the best way I can celebrate her legacy on this sad day.

Demanding Jail Time for Twice Convicted Child Rapist Albert Whyley

2011-09-14T06:42:00.000-07:00

Convicted child rapist Albert Whyley could still walk free. A Freeport jury found him guilty yesterday of unlawful sexual contact with a minor for the rape of his nine year old niece in February this year. But apparently the law allows for the judge to sentence him to absolute discharge just as easily as to the maximum sentence of fourteen years in prison. Senior Justice Hartman Longley gets to make the final decision. Most shocking is the news that Whyley was convicted of this same crime eighteen years ago. I gather from this muddled newspaper story that prosecution lawyer Erica Kemp told the court at the verdict reading on Tuesday that Whyley was convicted of the same crime eighteen years ago and sentenced to fourteen years in prison, and that a Court of Appeal reduced his sentence to nine years. Does this mean Whyley did nine years in jail for child rape, was released and attacked again? Why didn't prosecution lawyers bring this up during the trial? Where is the other victim? Why are we just hearing about this now? Another dark-age legal restriction probably. The same kind that allows Longley to "sentence" him to be let go. It is shocking to me that a judge in this country can sentence a man to freedom after a jury has found him guilty of a violent crime. What then is the point of even having a jury? (And what kind of journalism is it to bury this shocking revelation of a prior conviction for the same crime at the bottom of the story on page two? Real (free) (modern) journalism would have uncovered and reported this long ago). There were six women and three men on that jury. The guilty vote was six to three. That's all I am going to say about that. I am calling on Justice Longley to have the courage and wisdom to honor the bravery of this child victim and the guilty verdict of the jury and sentence this predator to maximum jail time. This family, this child, deserves justice. Violent crime against women and children of the Bahamas carries on because we give impunity to offenders instead of justice to victims. This judge can be remembered for changing this and for being a hero for child victims of violent crime in the Bahamas, or he can be remembered as one more co-conspirator in the war against women and children. Will he believe the cries for help from an innocent child or will he believe the man who has already spent nine years in jail for the same crime? He will hand down his judgement on November 11. Thankfully the rapist is in jail until then. Justice Longley, keep him there.

Less Jesus, More Justice for Littlest Victims of Rape

2011-09-09T03:56:00.000-07:00

It is seven am and I am reading in the paper about the nine year old girl who testified in a Freeport court on Wednesday that clergyman and uncle Albert Whylly raped her. I want to let the judge, Senior Justice Hartman Longley know that he has already betrayed this little girl and her brave mother who called the authorities when he let the accused rapist go on bail. It is outrageous that a man who probably raped a child is given bail. Little children who say they were raped are, in my opinion, always telling the truth. Justice Longley has already betrayed this brave girl and her family by letting the accused go free, by giving him the opportunity to menace this family during this trial. This happens all the time in Bahamian courts. The little victims come forward, mothers bravely press charges, then judges let the accused out on bail to potentially rape another child. Bahamian juries are also notorious for not believing these little victims and finding the accused not guilty and setting them free to attack again. The final outrage is the way Bahamian communities will "forgive" men who are accused of child rape and set free, these violent criminals are never shunned or reviled like Casey Anthony, they are received back into the community like nothing happened, even back into the family, with a bunch of talk about forgiveness as Christ would have it, this religion-glutted society's way of relieving itself of personal responsibility.

It is a miracle that a Bahamian man accused of raping a child is brought before a judge and jury at all. So many times the littlest victims are not believed and charges are never pressed. Mothers are often already so beaten and broken themselves that they turn a blind eye. Or they know that if they pursue it their own support systems like family and church community will probably turn them out and away. And we all know convictions are rare. Who was the last Bahamian accused of child rape actually convicted and sentenced to jail time? The mother of this child has already been through hell and high water to get her daughter’s attacker into a Bahamian courtroom. She is to be commended and supported for the way she is fighting for justice for her daughter. Bahamian judges and juries need to BELIEVE our littlest victims of rape and REMAND accused rapists and child rapists especially and CONVICT them based on the victim’s testimony.

Bahamian judges and juries, give us less Jesus and more Justice for the littlest victims of rape.

Is accused child rapist preacher Albert Whylly going to have the nerve to conduct a church service in Freeport this sunday? Probably. Where is the mainstream press? Nowhere, because of antiquated laws which don't allow for free and in depth coverage and commentary on court cases. We need a citizen journalist in Freeport with an Iphone and a blog to find the church, to photograph him in the act, and publish it for the sake of naming and shaming him. The congregation too should be photographed, especially mothers attending with little children. They should be asked if they know or care that their preacher is an accused child rapist out on bail. Their faces and responses need to be published all over the web, and the public needs to scorn those who give impunity to child rapists. Citizen journalism on the web can be the child advocate's greatest tool in the struggle for justice for the littlest victims of rape.

We are required by our humanity to protect our children. Lets get on with it.

Stop Stealing Wheelchair Parking

2011-09-04T04:31:00.000-07:00

Three days ago a friend posted a photograph on Facebook of a police car parked in the wheelchair parking spot outside Wong's Bookstore in Nassau. She had taken it after having witnessed the uniformed policeman park and go inside for a bit of leisurely shopping, and after approaching him to ask why he was parked illegally, only to have him reply he did it because there wasn't any other spot available, and a snide "have a nice day." She posted the picture of the police car in the wheelchair spot immediately thereafter. Right away a little posse formed of friends who give a dam, and together we got the photograph to a commanding officer, Superintendent Stephen Dean, who has assured us the policeman will be appropriately disciplined. Look at us, rocking the citizen journalism thing! Now, cut to yesterday. I went to the Harbour Bay shopping center for a manicure at Windemere. As I am a person with a disability I looked for wheelchair parking and... could find none. Every single wheelchair spot was filled. Either every handicapped person in Nassau was in the shopping center at that moment, or it was filled with people who stole wheelchair parking from citizens who really needed it. I drove around the entire parking lot looking for security in a golf cart who might be able to give me a ride from a distant parking spot but there were none in sight. I was forced to park on the yellow line outside the store. A half an hour later they were telling me that security had called police to tow my car. A good friend in the salon went and moved my car for me. No police were called for all the cars illegally parked in the wheelchair spots.

I've been through a thousand parking nightmares since I began needing parking assistance at the age of 32 when I was pregnant. I never used handicapped parking before then. I have come face to face with the dregs of Nassau society in front of a thousand stolen wheelchair spots. Truly, the meanest, most disgusting people, little old ladies, dread-locked fathers with children looking on, uniformed civil servants, every sort. I have politely asked a thousand of them to move so that I could park. And as I write this morning I realize that I cannot remember a single one of them ever responding in an apologetic way. Every single one of them responded by shouting curses, ridicule, violent verbal confrontation. Many times the attacks were witnessed by my son, he has seen this go down many times in his young life. Thankfully the most dangerous of the confrontations he did not witness. Like that time outside of Lowes when I pulled up behind a snarling, sneering wheelchair parking thief who was refusing to politely move and blocked him in. He responded by running around to try and stand against my car door to stop me from getting out. I had to shout him into retreat. I have learned over the years that the best way to deter a violent predator and a wheelchair parking thief is to draw some witnesses. I was shaken and quite terrified by the experience. (The truth of the matter is that it is the idea of witnesses in the bad guy's head that deters him, not the actual witnesses, no one standing around witnessing these events have ever rushed over to assist me, they usually just stand around and watch. Bahamians are like the mean New Yorkers of the Caribbean.) Then there was that time back in the 1980s. I was downtown. There was a Mercedes Benz in the wheelchair spot. So I pulled into an empty taxi spot. In a moment a crowd of angry taxi drivers had converged upon my car. As I was asking the angry mob to allow me the use of the spot for a quick minute I looked over saw the owner of the Mercedes had returned and a policeman was talking to her. It was one of my relatives by marriage, now a former relative, with her two little children in tow. She must have seen me embroiled with the taxi drivers but was too ashamed of herself to approach me. Another shocking and traumatizing experience that I never spoke about until now. I grew up knowing about relatives known who packed the trunk of their rental car in trips to America with an assortment of walkers, crutches, canes and fraudulent handicap car stickers, stealing handicap parking was the highlight of their trips. Some people are awful and I think I have met them all. Yes, I have battled with the meanest people on earth in parking lots across this country. It is no exaggeration to say that a trip to the store can end up in a fight for my life. Many trips end with me just coming home, shopping undone, appointments missed. And just to conclude I would like to say that I have recently been prevented from being able to get both a business license and a marriage license (without help) because both relevant government buildings have no parking available for people who need assistance.

But people are great too. Like my friend Nancy who bravely approached the offending policeman at Wongs, who photographed and reported him. I thank her for giving a dam. Thanks to all my other friends who expressed their outrage. Thanks to Supt. Stephen Dean too for hearing our complaint with compassion and understanding. There are good people in the world too. Even good policemen. So let the good people step forward and speak up. With our iphones, laptops, blogs and Facebook pages, lets embrace the idea of being citizen journalists. Photograph the bad guys, publish the photos, call for justice! This is the real power and purpose of these technologies. I believe in naming and shaming the perpetrators. Lets remember that able bodied people become suddenly disabled all the time. You never know when you might need that consideration yourself. Let us all have more compassion for one another. But if we cannot have compassion then let us at least have respect for the law.

On the Other Side

2011-08-28T05:35:00.000-07:00

Here we are on the other side of Irene, intact and alright. Not one life was lost in the entire country, what a miracle. I'm proud of my brave, tenacious people, and feeling quite sure that I would rather ride out a hurricane here at home than anywhere else in the world. Feeling a lot of gratitude for our strong little house, for the grandmother trees in our yard that remained standing and protected us for the duration of the storm. I am grateful to have electricity, internet and cable restored so quickly, I remember well the storms past when we were in the heat, darkness and silence for weeks afterwards. This morning I'm having a coffee in my air conditioned house, blogging and watching Pound Puppies with Pyper, feeling the regenerative powers of Earth swirling all around. We have a lot of cleaning up to do across the country and then we get to watch as new life all green and hopeful comes springing up in the places where the wind was the most devastating. This magical regeneration of life out of death is the most awesome of all the Earth Mysteries, it is the mother of them all.

We Made It Through

2011-08-25T07:23:00.000-07:00

It is 10.23 am and just as I am about to write that I think the worst is over another huge gust goes through. But yes, Irene is moving away from us, there are actual lulls in the wind now. Some small trees appear to be down, but we are all intact. New Providence was spared again. We made it through.

Seven Twenty Four AM, Holding On in New Providence

2011-08-25T04:10:00.000-07:00

CBS Miami is saying that Irene is moving to the East of New Providence island and will directly hit the island of Abaco. Yikes, that was a hundred mph gust, debris is flying, stuff hitting the roof, rain sheeting down. Through a sliver in the shutter I can see my big trees riding the wind. Its nasty out there. I'm feeling a little tense.

Heavy Wind

2011-08-25T02:02:00.000-07:00

It is six am and I am waking up after a good sleep, feeling grateful and guilty. The wind is heavy, gusting about 80 mph. Maybe more. The electricity has just this minute gone off. David tells me that the storm is veering away from New Providence, but that may just be his way of "being positive." I still feel like the worst is to come, but that may just be my way of... expecting the worst. What can I say? We writers are a miserable bunch. But I swear, the wind is picking up as I write. I am so grateful for this electric generator, the pitch black darkness and roasting heat of storms passed still haunt me, and I know many, many others are dealing with that and worse right now. I wish I could see outside. Yikes, there's a big, howling gust, some falling debris. The storm is just upon us now. We will feel the heaviest winds in the next couple of hours.

Bracing for Hurricane Irene

2011-08-24T14:02:00.000-07:00

The house is shuttered, the electricity is off and the generator running, the first of the rain is coming down and yes, those are definitely wind gusts. I don't like it one bit. I'm grateful for our secure house, try to take comfort in remembering that we have been through this before. From what I can gather we'll have the heaviest winds tomorrow morning around 8am. I don't know how the other islands have fared, as predicted the local news coverage is abysmal and the international coverage non-existant. Hey world, we exist and we matter! What is needed is for the people of the Bahamas to get on the web! We ARE the media these days, we need to be reporting on blogs and Facebook from every island, telling our own stories! There is such silence in this place. Just to keep myself centered, I plan to keep an account of the storm here, with frequent posts for the duration of the storm. Let us all stay safe and take care of one another.

We've Got to Stick Together

2011-08-23T12:08:00.000-07:00

Alright, we can do this thing. Lets secure our properties, take our animals inside, stay sober and alert, and ride out hurricane Irene together. Shopkeepers, refrain from price gouging because we are a civilized country and we don't take advantage of each other in hard times. Radio announcers and programmers, remember, we the public have the right to good, ie lifesaving information and it is your mandate to provide it. Give us voices of intelligence and calm authority whom we can trust, who can guide us through the storm safely. We want journalists, not bad performances. (I am remembering one hurricane past when the only radio station we could get had Darrold Miller reporting who shouted every word of every report AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS like he was pretending to be broadcasting outside in the wind), and the odd international reports heard never ever mentioned the Bahamas, to them we did not exist.) We huddled in the hallway all night feeling profoundly alone. Broadcasters, get it together. Neighbours, don't be trimming your trees now, you are creating debris that will become dangerous missiles in the wind. And friends, lets all lend one another a hand. Like my two year old said this morning: "We've got to stick together, everybody in the town, and then it will be time for chocolate."

Dengue Fever is No Joke

2011-07-28T20:37:00.000-07:00

Our son contracted the viral infection Dengue Fever. He has had fever, muscle and joint pains, excessive tiredness, headache, nausea and nosebleeds. he hasn’t eaten in four days. Its shocking and frightening. I thought it was food poisoning for a couple of days before even realizing how sick he was. Fogging has reportedly begun on New Providence island but I haven’t seen any trucks in my neighbourhood. In the meantime we saw the doctor, we don’t go outside at dawn or dusk, we dumped the little bowls of water we had put out in the yard a few weeks ago in the hopes of cultivating some frogs, I am spraying the patio and front yard with raid, yes I know this is un-green, but our son is sick and our daughter is only two, she gets bitten all the time. These are serious times. We all must take proper precautions. And we need to amp up the national response to the outbreak of Dengue Fever in Nassau. This thing is no joke.

That's What Sisters Do: A Tribute to Dionne Benjamin Smith

2011-06-21T08:52:00.000-07:00

Writers have obsessions. One of mine is sisterhood. The root of this of course is probably the fact that I didn't have a blood sister and always wished I did. Over the years the universe provided me instead with good friends who have loved and put up with me as sisters do, who have celebrated my achievements with me, cheered me on through the fallow times, challenged me when my vision was cloudy, generously gave of their wisdom, talent and friendship, who have remained true through it all. Among the dearest of these are the "sisters" I gained in the days when WomanSpeak was first being conceived and created. This writing is about one of them, WomanSpeak co-creator Dionne Benjamin-Smith, the artist and designer who took our imaginings and words and turned them into real and lovely books we could hold in our hands.

I have been terribly remiss up to now in that I've never properly, ie, publicly, acknowledged and thanked Dionne for her all the inspired and visionary work she did to bring our journal into being. I wish now that I would have credited her as co-editor in each book because she was nothing less. The simple fact is that without Dionne Benjamin Smith there wouldn't have been a single WSJ, much less five. The cover she designed for the very first WSJ, with its central image of a leaping female figure in a stark, edgy style, is still one of the coolest book covers I've ever seen. She designed, co-edited and contributed artwork to all five journals. It was her artistry and special design ability that brought our books to life. When Helen Klonaris went back to school after the fourth book she handed over the editorship to me and for the next five years or so it was Dionne who continued to work with me on the fifth manuscript. We both had enormous time constraints. She was growing her young business and I was at home growing a young son. And there was the continuing problem of no money. Dionne gave her time and talent for free through all those years. The time came when we were both burned out. There were so many obstacles, the main one being no funding. (These were the days before print on demand publishing existed, when making a book was enormously expensive.) Dionne and I agreed we would have to shelve the fifth manuscript until another day. That new day came in 2010 when at last there was time, funding and inspiration enough to bring the fifth collection to print at last. I was able to take the manuscript that Dionne had done so much work on and with Dionne's blessing hand it over to Julia Ames who put the finishing touches on it and at last a new book was born.

Dionne's contribution to the making of the WomanSpeak Journals was and continues to be an enormous one. In the beginning she was the one with the seemingly magical power to take the raw stuff that Helen and I brought to her and transform it into real, honest to goodness books that were beautiful, little works of art in and of themselves, but with historical and political significance as well, books that were changing our lives as we made them, and birthing a new literary tradition to boot. It was her art in the early books that made it clear that WSJ was going to be a journal unlike any other, her art that so perfectly gave form and shape to our collective vision, her art that raised a few eyebrows (much to my delight) and compelled many more to buy our books. These days Dionne continues to be a sister supporter of WomanSpeak. I still call on her every day for technical help, she sill patiently walks me through. I still depend on the unending support she gives as a sister in the creative arts. I will never forget how she kept the faith through those years when we worked on the book alone. I honor her because she truly doesn't care a fig about public recognition, only about doing all she can to nurture and support our efforts to provide a space for the work of a new generation of women writers and artists in the Bahamas and across the Caribbean. (The fact is that her own art is stunning, her paintings and woodcuts are daring, wrought with social commentary, full of ancient spirit and newborn vision. Her work has been exhibited in The Bahamas, the United States, Germany and the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. Her print work has been discussed and featured in critical art journals including Small Axe, and in essays by noted art curators and historians. Her fabulous digital art and design work is showcased these days in the online marketing and promotions she and husband artist Jolyon Smith produce through their Bahamian Arts and Culture Marketing Service. O yes, she's a successful entrepreneur too.)

I want the women writers and artists of today and of future generations to know about the work Dionne Benjamin Smith did to create a sacred space for our voices as co-creator of WomanSpeak. I value her voice, so quietly powerful, and I feel blessed and honoured that I've been able to collaborate with her for all these years. She will be credited as co-creator in all future books. If our little book ever grows into a noted Caribbean journal of new women's writing and art I want those young women writers of the future to remember Dionne as a founding mother of the movement.

But it is the sisterhood I share with her that I treasure the most. I know that everything she did for and with us over the years was out of genuine love, the kind blood sisters have. How else could she have put up with me? Why have I taken so long to publicly acknowledge and thank her for co-creating the WSJ with us? I have always known that it was her art and design that made our books possible and special. I have always known how lucky I am to be Dionne's sister in the arts, and her friend too. But I never said so until now. Again, why has she put up with me?

Because that's what sisters do.

Simona Lee of Trinidad Wins 2011 Internet Activist BlogHer Scholarship

2011-06-06T15:42:00.000-07:00

Congratulations to Simona Lee of Trinidad, creator of the blog “Women Speak: Women Tell Their Stories of Discrimination,” for being chosen to receive a 2011 Internet Activist BlogHer Scholarship. Simona will attend the BlogHer 11 conference in San Diego in August where she’ll present her very important work at one of the sessions. Her blog is a forum for women in the Caribbean to tell their stories of discrimination “and in so doing has given them a way to begin to take charge of their lives,” she has said, “and provides a resource for women looking to know more about their rights and the resources available to them” when dealing with discrimination. The BlogHer Conference is the world’s largest conference for women in social media. BlogHer.com is now the largest community of women who blog, with 25 million visitors a month. It is one of the largest and highest quality publishing networks of blogs authored by women. There are 22,000 blogs in the BlogHer directory but only four scholarships are granted every year to women bloggers in developing countries to give them the opportunity to attend the conference. I’m proud of our Caribbean sister for being one of this year’s scholarship winners, and especially glad that she is a Feminist writer/blogger who cares about the lives of women and is using the both the power of the free web and the power of women's stories to resist and to transform. One of Simona's sistren scholarship winners is Yoani Sanchez of Cub, probably the most famous woman blogger of all time. Esteemed company indeed. Simona deserves it. Her blog Women Speak is needed and wanted at this time. (And yes, I quite like the name as well!)

WomanSpeak, the Journal of Literature and Art by Caribbean Women Call for Submissions

2011-05-27T10:29:00.000-07:00

WomanSpeak, the Journal of Literature and Art by Caribbean Women is calling for submissions for a new issue with the special theme, “Women Speaking for the Earth.”

WomanSpeak exists to create a space for fine literature and art by Caribbean women, a space where our creativity is nurtured, where women’s stories and voices are witnessed and amplified, where real community and sisterhood among Caribbean women writers can begin and grow. The journal is committed to making spaces for diversity, for writers and viewpoints that are underrepresented, and for new and emerging writers especially. The vision is to make books that inspire us and draw us together today, as well as books that will preserve our work for future audiences.

WomanSpeak was co-created by Helen Klonaris, Dionne Benjamin and myself back in the 1990s out of a dream to create books of Feminist literature and art from the Caribbean. Four small but brave and powerful issues later the journal went out of print. The journal returned to print in 2010 with a collection that includes the work of acclaimed writers Marion Bethel, Lelawattee Manoo Rahming, Nicolette Bethel, Opal Palmer Adissa and others.

Now work is being sought for a new issue that will focus on writing and art that speaks for the protection and preservation of Mother Earth in these days of catastrophic oil spills, rising sea levels, over-fishing, poaching, deforestation, over-development, and beaches and shorelines vanishing behind hotel walls. Where are the Womanish/Feminist writers who have something to say about stopping the destruction of the natural Caribbean, who are envisioning new ways of being and thinking which will restore, protect and honour her? Where are the writers whose work explores the Caribbean woman’s ancient and deep connection to Earth, who have something to say about bringing that ancient wisdom into our modern lives so that we can save the Earth and save ourselves? Editors hope to begin to gather some of their voices in this new collection. Toward this goal a special call is going out to Caribbean Indian women writers. What do the Taino women writers, the Caribs, the Lokonos of today have to tell us about how to live well with Mother Earth? We need their voices now more than ever.

WomansSpeak is accepting submissions of poetry, short fiction, personal essays, myth and lore, visual art and photographs. Prose should be double spaced and not exceed 5,000 words. Poetry submissions are limited to 6 poems. Visual art is limited to 6 images and should be submitted by email, accompanied by a 50-word biographical statement, and a separate 50 word statement about your artwork.

All submissions should include author’s name on each page and be accompanied by a brief biographical statement. Please send submissions to lynnsweeting@gmail.com with the word "submission" on the subject line.

Celebrating Great Women on International Women's Day

2011-03-08T05:45:00.000-08:00

It is International Women's Day (IWD) and a part of me wishes I was in London in the mass march led by Annie Lennox across Millennium Bridge to celebrate, or in Washington, marching on Capitol Hill demanding a better world for millions of marginalized women and girls around the world. IWD is a global celebration of the economic, political and social achievements of women past, present and future and this is it's centenary year. At the time of this writing 25 countries around the world are marking the day, and there is more IWD activity globally now than ever before, probably in part because of the galvanizing power of the internet. The Socialist Suffragettes of Germany, 1911 would be happy to see all the renewed observances of their day around the world one hundred years on. They would be thrilled by the way women of this generation are using the web to be heard, to connect, to remember and to forge ahead with our continuing struggle for equality.

To mark the day I am imagining a gathering of great women who inspire me, a round table of icons and ordinary women to whom I am most grateful, whose works and words have made the world a better place for women and girls everywhere. Some are ghosts, some are still with us. I'll list them here as they come into my sight throughout the day.

Mary Naomi Mason-Ingraham is here. She is the humble woman with no formal education who lobbied the Bahamas government from 1950 to 1960, gathering thousands of signatures, writing letters and gathering grassroot support for the cause until government at last granted women the right to vote. Mary Ingraham is owed a deep debt of gratitude by all women for what she did for women's rights in this country. Is there a woman of our generation who would collect signatures for ten relentless years in order to change a law to better women's lives? I hope so.

Sitting next to her is Nobel Peace Laureate Professor Wangari Mathai, Founder of The Green Belt Movement that has to date planted 40 million trees across Kenya. I can hear Professor Mathai speaking: ""Women have become aware that planting trees or fighting to save forests from being chopped down is part of a larger mission to create a society that respects democracy, decency, adherence to the rule of law, human rights and the rights of women." Her work shines a light on the connection between forests and peace, equality and the health and wellness of humanity. She gives me the courage to write more about tree planting as a way to heal a crime and violence ridden neighbourhood, one of my secret obsessions.

She is speaking with the fabulous painter Frida Khalo, the painter of the early 20th century said to have been a grand diva who was a "tequila slamming, dirty joke-telling, smoker, bi-sexual who hobbled about her bohemian barrio in lavish indigenous dress and threw festive dinner parties for some of the greatest minds of her generation." Have to love that. But I honor her especially for the way she painted the painful truth about her life in all its unsettling glory, for showing up at that last exhibition born aloft in a hospital bed, how she never painted to "get over" anything, how her injury bled those paintings... Physical and emotional pain and turmoil were the subjects of her work, unashamedly, and still, she was an international sensation in her own lifetime. (So much for that theory of the greater value of looking on the bright side.) And of course, paradoxically she can be heard to say: "Feet, what do I need them for, when I have wings to fly?"

Nobel Peace Laureate Rigoberta Menchu is here. She was given the prize in 1992 in recognition of her work for social justice and ethno-cultural reconciliation and work based on respect for the rights of indigenous peoples in her native Guatamala. Her voice rings clear: "We are not myths of the past, ruins in the jungle, or zoos. We are people and we want to be respected, not to be victims of intolerance and racism."

Next to her is author JK Rowling, Harry Potter creator, who in 2005 co-founded the Children's High Level Group (CHLG), inspired by a press report she read about children in caged beds in institutions in the Czech Republic. This charity aims to make life better for young people in care, in Eastern Europe and around the world. And she is an inspiration to me for the way she imagined and then wrote herself out of poverty into the billionaire bracket, telling us, "Rock bottom became a solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life."

And here is Alice Walker, Pulitzer Prizewinning author of The Colour Purple, I raise my glass to her, the writer who changed what it meant to be a woman writer with the essay, "In Search of our Mothers Gardens":How simple a thing it seems to me that to know ourselves as we are, we must know our mothers names." So any of us remain writing because of and in response to that transformational essay.

And my paternal Grandmother is here too, Winnifred Louise Harris Sweeting, esteemed teacher, friend to so many, dear to me. I love and honor her today for so many reasons, for her great humor, her incredible bravery, and the way she never saw me as a victim the way others in the family did, but as a brave little girl and a capable young woman. I remember her great advice, especially what she said to me when I was a tragedy-ridden adolescent convinced no one would ever love me: "Don't worry so much about getting a man. Get some books instead. Then get some friends."

The Most Powerful Thing I Can Do

2011-02-25T14:38:00.000-08:00

I had to call the police today to report a threat of violence made against me yesterday by a neighbour who became enraged because I demanded he stop gunning a broken down car after several hours of terrible noise and billowing black smoke in my front yard. The neighbour rushed my gate, grabbing and shaking it, shouting that he was going to beat my ass. This morning I lodged a complaint at the Fox Hill police station against the man and asked that they send a cruiser through the neighbourhood today. One Corporal Seymour assured me they would. He said, “We are here for you, ma’am.” I took the threat seriously since these are people I have been involved in conflicts with for many years. They have been investigated for animal cruelty and for allowing vicious (neglected) dogs to run loose and slaughter many (yes, I said Many) beloved family cats and causing emotional trauma for my family, my son especially. My property has also been destroyed by their rampaging dogs. After the last animal killing and subsequent police investigation several years ago things were quiet apart from a visit from the daughter angry that I had reported her father, who stormed into my house threatening to “knock me to the ground.” I reported that threat too. That was about a year ago. Now this.

I have struggled with other neighbours too. I have called the authorities to shut down the bush mechanic operation the man across the street will set up on his driveway across the street from my house. The noise, the pollution and the dangerous traffic of tow trucks and busted vehicles lining the road can become a terrible hazard, an unbearable disturbance. He’s been shut down twice because of my phone calls. I have raised hell with others for cutting down hundred year old Poinciana trees and for blasting music into my bedroom window at three am. Needless to say, these folks don’t like me very much. Too bad. I have the right to live in peace. I have the right to protect my family and property. I call the authorities not to make trouble but to safeguard my community and keep the peace. I have lived here in this house, in this neighbourhood, my entire life, and probably always will. I have seen its decline over the years and have done all in my power to speak up for its preservation and protection. I always have and always will speak up when my rights as a homeowner, a citizen and a human being are being threatened. The most powerful thing I can do right now to continue in this effort is to tell my story. And so I have.

Three Cheers for Bahamian Firefighters

2011-02-16T10:11:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning I was riveted to Facebook and to the photographs coming in at F.DoT Photography of the terrible fire that was burning in downtown Nassau. Photographer Farreno Ferguson was posting amazing shots of the fire and focusing his camera on the firefighters as they worked hard to contain the blaze. The images captured of the women and men who battled that fire and quickly brought it under control are fantastic, showing them for the brave and heroic public servants they are. In one photo after another, our firefighters could be seen doing what they were trained to do, facing down the flames, engulfed in smoke, their faces serious, determined, intent upon their mission. Of course I loved the photographs of the women firefighters especially. My heart filled with pride at the sight of them all. Like others commenting on the photographs, I was reminded of Nine Eleven. I thought of how these women and men, like their New York counterparts, serve and protect us this way every day with never a word of thanks. I was glad their bravery and fortitude had been captured on film and sent out on the web for us all to see. (I also thought about how passe and irrelevant print journalism is becoming thanks to citizen journalism and the web, but that is another story.) Cut to this morning and the coverage of the fire in the morning paper, and a story on an inside page written especially to criticize the fire department and how they handled the fire. True to form the "reporter" was able to find the whiners and complainers who sat comfortably on the sidelines and offered their criticism instead of their thanks and appreciation for the firefighters who risked their lives to stop a fire that could have burned all of Bay Street to the ground. Shame on the reporter, the editors and the complainers, all. Imagine how hurtful it must be for those firefighters to open the paper this morning and see their heroism denigrated and belittled. It must be heartbreaking for them and more than a little angering. I wish to be counted among those who are thankful and grateful for the firefighters and the lifesaving work they do, and I apologize to them all for the ungrateful few who had only negative things to say when they spotted a "reporter" coming their way. Thank you to the brave women and men of the fire department, for saving the day, for saving Bay Street, for keeping everyone alive. I am proud of you. I feel safe and protected today knowing that you are on the job. And thank you to citizen journalist Farreno Ferguson for taking the photographs that focused our attention on the human story, the real story of the heroism and bravery of our Bahamian firefighters.

Goodbye Dr Keva Bethel, and Thank You

2011-02-15T05:59:00.000-08:00

All The Bahamas is grieving today for the passing of esteemed educator Dr Keva Bethel, former head of the College of the Bahamas. When I was a print journalist in the 1980s there were many public figures and leaders in my country who were falling from grace, so many who betrayed the public trust. Dr Bethel was one of the few leaders from that time whose integrity was never in question. Bahamian women of my generation can be especially proud of her and grateful to her for a life and career that inspired us to reach for greatness in a man's world. She never let us down. In later years it was always a pleasure to see her, she always greeted me with a kiss and an embrace, her kindness to me on those occasions I shall never forget. My thoughts are with her children and my friends, Nicolette and Edward, who will attend the funeral service of their uncle and Dr Bethel's brother, Bishop Michael Eldon, today. My heart goes out to this wonderful family at this very sad time.

Cuba, It Is Your Turn

2011-02-11T12:24:00.000-08:00

Hurrah for Egypt! Bright blessings to the non-violent, pro-democracy demonstrators of Egypt who have successfully brought down an oppressive regime. Alright Cuba, now it is your turn. You too have the right to freedom of speech, you have the right to free and clear information, you have the right to assemble, the right to criticize the government, the right to elect a new government that cares about your wellbeing. You have the right to travel, the right to return, the right to create your lives as you see fit, in community with the rest of the free world. You have the right to access the internet and to the power of citizen journalism, you have the right to hear the voices and views of your fellow citizens who speak out. Yes Cuba, look well upon the young people of Egypt who are changing the world for the better, be inspired, know that you can do it too. I would love to see a non-violent uprising for human rights in Cuba sparked by blog writers and fed and sustained till victory by the power of the internet. As we have seen it is entirely possible.

Standing with the Women Protestors of Egypt

2011-02-06T23:48:00.000-08:00

I'm thinking of the women protesters in Egypt tonight, out in the streets for nearly two weeks now, bravely demanding their human rights, the biggest one being the right to the freedom of speech. I've watched in recent years as one Egyptian blogger after another was arrested and jailed, signed numerous petitions at Amnesty and Avaaz and other organizations to pressure for their freedom. It always was outrageous to me that humble blog writers like me were being thrown into jail for criticizing the government. But it is proof that this thing called citizen journalism is powerful. When I saw that the government had shut down the internet I knew something big had happened. But the uprising is enormous, shocking to me for this part of the world, a revolution seeded and cultivated in the blogosphere, now taken into the streets, and the women of Egypt are in the forefront. They are still in the streets after twelve days - or is it thirteen - unrelenting even though this Mubarak character is refusing to step down. They are still blogging too, since internet service was restored. I read blogs by Egyptian women this morning over at Global Voices Online, they are hopeful, amazed by what they are doing, amazed at their own determination and strength. I am amazed too, and grateful. I am grateful for the tenacity of the citizen journalists of Egypt and for the bravery of the women protestors both, and thankful for all they are doing for human rights in the world. The global community must stand with them in their struggle. I do.

Thank You Justice Longely

2011-02-06T11:11:00.000-08:00

I have to say, I am glad to hear that Bahamian judge , Justice Hartman Longely has given convicted child molester and former teacher Andre Birbal a whopping thirty five years in prison. I commend the jury too. I was talking recently with a friend and well known women's advocate who expressed the dismay she felt recently when a jury acquitted the grandfather who had incested his own granddaughter. The jury didn't believe the testimony of the child.I asked her how she stayed inspired in the ongoing struggle to get justice for battered women and abused children when the legal system and juries continued to let us down, continued to let child predators go. She expressed to me that it was the resilience and determination and healing power she gets to help stoke up in the hearts and souls of these sisters, the joy she feels when a woman gets out, gets away, and gets on with a better life, with or without the help of the legal system. Now I say thank you and keep it up to Justice Longely, hopefully his judgements will be equally as severe when the victims are young girls.

Bright Solstice and Christmas Blessings To You All!

2010-12-22T13:25:00.000-08:00

Did you see the eclipse of the Solstice moon? It was beautiful, amazing, affirming to see our earth's shadow cross the face of the moon, and on winter solstice too. We are the first Earthlings to see such a sight on such a night in more than five hundred years. As I watched the eclipse I thought about that other not-so-long-ago night and the ancestors who saw that cosmic phenomenon as it played out in the sky. My Sacred Grandmother in Britain probably saw it and braced for another wave of witch drownings, there were probably many witches accused, tortured and murdered for having caused the moon to disappear like that. Down here in the Lucayan Islands, my red-skinned Sacred Grandmother who escaped Colon and his invasion probably danced the solstice dance around the fire with her fellow survivors deep in a secret island forest, just as they always did, and maybe she took the eclipse to be the voice of the Great Cosmic Mother telling them to especially heed the message of winter solstice: that no darkness, no loss is final, that darkness always mothers the light. My Sacred Grandmother somewhere in West Africa, she saw it too. I've only been thinking about her for a couple of years. By what name did she know the Earth Mother? How did she call to the returning sun? I mean to remember, no, to re-member, and soon. Winter Solstice is the time of year when modern pagans and witches celebrate the return of the sun, when we remember that no darkness is ever final, that light is always born again from the darkness, always. For me, it is also a time to remember all the womanish ancestors of my earthling blood, and too, to celebrate the youthful present blessings of our children and all the hope they embody for the future. The lunar eclipse makes this year especially unforgettable, especially meaningful. Bright Solstice and Christmas blessings to you all!

2011 Will Be a Year for More Reading

2010-12-17T12:53:00.000-08:00

I plan to do a lot of reading in the coming year. In particular the goal is to read the latest and best books by contemporary Caribbean women writers, and yes, to write about them too here in this blog. At the top of the list of must-reads for me for 2011 are: "Create Dangerously: The Immigrant Artist at Work" by Edwidge Danticat; "I, Tituba, Black Witch of Salem" by Maryse Conde and "I Name Me Name" by Opal Palmer Adissa. I'm also looking forward to receiving submissions for the 2011 issue of The WomanSpeak Journal with the theme, Women Writing to Heal the Earth. Of course, I mean too to read Marion Bethel's "Bouganvillea Ringplay" again, as well as Lelawattee Manoo Rahming's "Curry Flavor" and Nicolette Bethel's The Children's Teeth" and do the same, because I can only be enriched when I read them again, and my own continuing work too. Yes, I mean to celebrate womanish words this coming year with more reading, more writing, more growing our writing community!

WomanSpeak Journal Call For Submissions

2010-11-28T05:42:00.000-08:00

The WomanSpeak Journal is now accepting submissions for volume six to be published in October, 2011. The theme chosen for this issue is, Women Writing to Heal the Earth. Women have always been deeply connected to the Earth. We share so much with her, we are mothers like her, she is alive like us, and like us, she is too often under attack, at risk for violation, exploitation, even eradication. But there is hope to be found in our voices, there is wisdom to be gleaned from our poems and stories, our free voices. So we invite writings that are songs and hymns to her, stories that break the silences for the sake of her healing and saving, so that we can all be healed and saved.

Toward this end we are proud to announce the creation of a new special section for the 2011 issue of The WomanSpeak Journal, “Earth Women Speak.” The voices of Caribbean Indian Women, indigenous women, Tainos, Caribs, Black Caribs, etc women writers. The Indian Nations of the Caribbean are rising again, remembering themselves, re-membering themselves to history and to this present day. We will collect the voices of Indian women writers and artists here in an effort to be present and together with them as they revive their voices, too long missing from the collective consciousness, too long missing from our literature.

But the call for writings to heal the Earth is open to all women writers in the Caribbean and those whose work has Caribbean focus .As always, we welcome poetry, short fiction, myth and lore, personal essays, play excerpts, letters, testimonials, book reviews as well as art and photography.

Please send your submissions with a bio to lynnsweeting@gmail.com. Lifeline for submissions is March 31, 2011.

WomanSpeak Launch Party Sat Nov 27 2010 at The Hub, Nassau

2010-11-25T12:07:00.000-08:00

Lovers of Caribbean literature are invited to the launch party of The WomanSpeak Journal, vol. 5, 2010, on Saturday, November 27, at The Hub, downtown Nassau, from 4pm to 6pm.

Patrons will be treated to readings from prize-winning contributing authors Marion Bethel and Lelawattee Manoo Rahming and others, sip wine gifted by Burns House Ltd, and get their signed copy of the new book published by The WomanSpeak Press and edited by yours truly.

The WomanSpeak Journal Vol 5/2010 is the long-awaited new collection of literature and art by Caribbean women, and includes the work of Marion Bethel, Nicolette Bethel, Lelawattee Manoo Rahming, Helen Klonaris, and more. This issue is the first WSJ with regional writers like established Jamaican poet and editor of the esteemed Caribbean Writer, Opal Palmer Adissa as well as new voices from beyond The Bahamas. To understand the significance of this, you have to remember the time in which this manuscript was first being stitched together: it was back in the late 1990s, ie, before the internet, when it was quite miraculous that our little journal was growing and making this kind of connection. Now in creation it stands as a little monument to the bravery , tenacity and imagination we had, in an impossible time, in an impossible place. Who knows what can happen now? The possibilities are endless...

What is fresh about the collection today, beside the new voices of Rhonda Claridge, Angelique Nixon, Sonia Farmer and others, is the wonderful art by Caribbean women included in this collection. Works by Lillian Blades, Claudette Dean, Chantal Bethel are beautiful and telling. I'm happy and grateful that the journal is becoming a forum for women artists, at a time when male artists are receiving so much attention and acclaim.

Published by WomanSpeak Books, Nassau, the new book marks a revival of the kitchen table press co-created by Helen Klonaris and I in the 1990s which produced four small collections of writings by Bahamian women in an effort to create a forum for those writers where none had existed before.

The journal remains dedicated to publishing fine literature and art by Caribbean women, especially new and emerging writers and those with diverse voices and viewpoints. Its return marks a new beginning for The WomanSpeak Press, and the revival of a dream to produce an annual publication that women writers across the Caribbean contribute to, and love to read.

The return of the WomanSpeak Journal after such a long time is cause for celebration. I’m happy to see our journal in print again together with all the other good books being produced by Bahamians today. In many ways this is the journal that was never meant to be made. There were many obstacles, interruptions, disconnections and outright impossibilities to contend with in the making of it. But it had a life of its own, it might have even died at one point but it would not stay dead.

The the work now is to keep on creating the space where the WSJ can grow into an international annual journal of women's literature with a Caribbean focus. It could happen. And so at the launch party I'll be announcing the call for submissions for the 2011 edition. I'm quite sure that the theme of the next one will be, "Women Writing to Heal the Earth." For that edition we'll create a special section entitled, "Earth Women Speak," for writings and art by Caribbean Indian women, ie, Tainos, Caribs, etc.

In the meantime we can celebrate vol.5 on Saturday night at The Hub. I love this little book. I love the myth and lore section, the spine-tingling "Miss Annie" by established writer Patricia Glinton Meicholas, the mysterious "Infedelities" by new voice Sonia Farmer, I love, the epic tale by Lelawattee Manoo Rahming. "Once Upon A Goddess Time," wonderful! I love the bravery of Helen Klonaris's play, excerpted in this collection: "The Death of Silence," which tells the story of a Greek Bahamian girl's survival of sexual abuse. I love the "Lily Poems' by Nicolette Bethel, so beautifully written. I am especially happy to include the poems of Opal Palmer Adisa, our first international/Caribbean writer, the author of "I Name Me Name" and many other acclaimed books of poetry and fiction.

It really has been a joy to put the WSJ vol. 5 together. The majority of these works were submitted to me a good thirteen or fourteen years ago, I am grateful to all the writers for their patience and faith. I thank them all too for their wonderful words.

See you all at the launch!

Watch Out for the Bullets

2010-11-22T06:10:00.000-08:00

I had to laugh. There on the Facebook newsfeed, another sentimental post about the beautiful sunshiny day and how all the birds were singing and... a journalist friend's response was, "Watch out for the bullets." I had to laugh so that I didn't cry. I had to laugh because this is the writer's job unfortunately, to see the shit and misery of life, to write about it so that others will see it too. Yes we know how beautiful the world is, what a miracle life is. But the truth is, whether we are journalists, poets, novelists or bloggers, we are here to write about the hell and high water we are coming through, living through, in order to be human. Sometimes we feel apologetic about this, but then we get over it and get on with the work of telling the truth.

Have a Happy Halloween!

2010-10-31T09:14:00.000-07:00

My family and friends know how much I love Halloween, at least the re-invented Halloween that we have created together and continue to create, out of our own lives, knowings, dreams and needs. Ancestor honor and remembrance is the seed of the new Halloween for us, and fun for the children is the flower. Fun for us is inevitable too, nothing like costumes and street theatre to liven up the soul of the declining (and fearful) neighbourhood, nothing like making little children happy, especially children who are disadvantaged by poverty. Or by fundamentalist religious hysteria. But glorious too was seeing dad and son carving pumpkins - and i mean they have created the most beautiful jackolanterns we've ever had. Most lovely of all, was dressing up little Pyper, like an angel for dad, we'll do the witch next year. She was beautiful in the candlelight, she fell asleep on the couch in her angel dress. Our Halloween is sacred, fun, family time, no monsters or horror allowed, only friendly ghosties, smiling good witches and jackolanterns allowed, only meditations and libations in the names of the ones we love who have passed, and in our own names too. This is the New Year celebration of the Old Religion, and of the Earth Religions of modern times too. When the mystery of death in the wheel of birth/growth/death/rebirth is marked with feasting, magic and music, when we say goodbye to the old year and plant the seeds of possibilities for the new year. And this writing is to celebrate our human right to freedom of religion too. But mostly, its a plea to the people of Nassau to hold on to the chrming, fun tradition of little children in costumes trickortreating on Halloween. Let the children have some fun, for God's sake. Get rid of wht you don't like about mainstream Halloween, create some more pleasing traditions of your own, you adults who have a problem with this holliday. But let the children have some creative fun, welcome them at your door, the intrepid mums who still try to take their preschoolers trickortreating will be very grateful. Have a happy Halloween

Writing for Rain Water (for Blog Action Day 2010, a day late.)

2010-10-16T10:24:00.000-07:00

At the time of this writing a light and steady rain is falling in the Crab Grass Garden and I am wishing that our rainwater cistern was restored. We mean to restore it as soon as we can. Of course we must begin again to save our rainwater in these times when it is becoming more and more common to wake up on this island to find no water running in the pipes. We’ve taken to saving the baby’s bath water till the next morning in case there is no water, so we can flush the potty. The housekeeper has stacked the garage with plastic bottles filled with water so she can do laundry if the water goes off. Meanwhile this lovely rain is rolling off the roof in sheets and I visualize the restored rainwater cistern, imagine it clicking in and out when we turn the taps, imagine the loveliness of a rainwater shower, and that great feeling of empowerment when we learn another way to live in harmony with Mother Earth. Yes, we will restore the rainwater collection system on this little house somehow. I have to know how a glass of rainwater tastes on a thirsty day.

Banning the Slaughter of Sharks in The Bahamas

2010-09-16T20:09:00.000-07:00

Bahamian conservationists are alarmed by the news that the Bahamas Government is considering allowing a shark fishery here. A group of organizations have joined forces to support the Ban of the Slaughter of All Sharks in Bahamian Waters via the online petition http://www.care2.com/go/z/19887049, including, The Bahamas Humane Society, The Bahamas National Trust, EARTHCARE, Friends of the Environment, The Nature Conservancy, Bahamas Reef Environment Educational Foundation and reEarth. I’m urging all my friends and readers to sign the petition and speak out against a shark fishery here. And I wish to join my voice with The Pew Environment Group and its supporters who are calling for the Bahamas to become a shark sanctuary. (Larry Smith provides an excellent report on the controversy at the Bahama Pundit blog.)

I hear environmental activist Sam Duncombe when she comments that Bahamians will rise to the occasion when fisheries and the sea are at stake, intimating that just as we banned longline fishing here, we have the collective power to ban a shark fishery and will most likely use it. It is good to be reminded that the environmental movement in my country is on the watch and bringing pressure to bear when this kind of threat is looming. I can't imagine Mr. Ingraham allowing the commercial slaughter of sharks in The Bahamas, not when he knows that we are against it. We must let him know. At the time of this writing there are 5,048 signatures on the petition, with a targeted goal of 15,000. We can do it. Shark finning is a cruel and horrible practice that should be banned the world over. Lets show them how it is done.

Rain the Movie is a Hit!

2010-09-05T15:21:00.000-07:00

I saw Rain for the first time this weekend, the film written and directed by Maria Govan, my good friend and a filmmaker the world will be taking note of. The acclaim for her first feature film about a girl struggling to survive in a Nassau slum has already begun. Rain was an Official Selection at the Toronto International Film Festival, received the Audience Award at The Bahamas International Film Festival, the Best Teen Movie Award at the Women’s International Film Festival in Seol, Korea, and Govan won the Best New Director/First Film at the Pan African Film Festival. HBO showed the film this summer, much to the delight of her local fanbase and is now available on DVD.

Truly, this movie and Maria Govan deserve the praise, because this film is good on so many levels. It tells the story of Rain, a teenaged girl who comes to Nassau in search of her mother, only to find her living in poverty, struggling with HIV and crack addiction. Renel Naomi Brown is Rain, and she is a very talented young actor indeed. Miss Brown IS Rain, and I was rooting for her, weeping with her, traveling resolutely with her as she makes a way out of no way, with the help of good friends and a big dream. Surely there is an acting award out there that Ms. Brown deserves to win.

Another great performance is given by Irma P Hall who plays Glory, Rain’s down and out mother who does her best to look after Rain though street-ravaged and nearing collapse. Ms Hall’s Glory was to me far more than a crack addicted prostitute, If the scene where she gives birth to Rain in the pitch black of a midnight storm on the out island doesn’t evoke sympathy and empathy in your heart for Glory, then you are probably watching the wrong movie and should go and rent, like, a war movie instead. My heart went out to Glory and to all the island women who are her real life counterparts in The Bahamas certainly, and probably all across the Caribbean, the invisible ones, the ones without a voice, and without a chance, making it the best way they can. I cheered too when Glory defends Rain against the rapist with a broken bottle, and l love the scene where she pulls herself together enough to tenderly comb and braid Rain’s hair. Rain’s relationship with the kind and tough track coach, well played by CCH Pounder (The Shield) is the focal relationship for Rain in the film, but it is her relationship with her mother that fascinated me the most.

Nicki Micheaux rounds out the starring cast. The scene where Micheaux rolls a joint in a Bible page is priceless!

Although some have billed this a “teen” movie, there are some very adult themes being dealt with in this flick, poverty, addiction, homophobia, racism, outside children, oppressed mothers, absent fathers, violent men, hateful fundamentalist religion and the hateful people it produces, heavy stuff and lots of it, jam-packed into thirty short minutes. It is an emotional portrayal of the other side of island life from a young girl’s point of view, without ever being sentimental. There are no stereotypes among these characters, no scene that is gratuitous, no dialogue that is hackneyed. Its beauty is raw and unapologetic, the truths told about the island woman’s life in Rain need to be told.

I really love this movie! I can’t wait to see the next film by Bahamian Maria Govan!

I Forgot About Hurricanes

2010-08-31T15:19:00.000-07:00

I forgot about hurricanes. Suddenly this morning I looked around and there was Earl cruising past the Turks and Caicos, looking like it plans to travel the length of the Bahamas at a tolerable distance over the next three days then aim for the Carolinas or even New York. But it could just as easily veer to the west tomorrow and slam New Providence Island with 130 mph winds. Really, it could. I am living in the post-Haiti earthquake era, no longer completely confident that the really terrible natural disasters always happen somewhere else. At the time of this writing Earl is a category 4 storm located about 150 miles east-northeast of Grand Turk Island and the Southeastern Bahamas are under a tropical storm watch. I forgot about hurricanes. But I remember now.

Revolution Trees

2010-08-16T12:43:00.000-07:00

Mango season is passed and the last poinciana flower has fallen from the tree. The canopy is green-green in the crab grass garden in August, the time of First Harvest is already behind, so quick, this summer has been. We ate all the mangoes and put the seeds in pots, just put them on the top of the dirt and now there are six or eight seedling mango trees sprouting, a tiny mango orchard in a white plastic pot in the fireplace outside. I mean to plant them all, though I might give some away, I'm thinking I must gift The Hub Garden Project with one of our baby mango trees. Last year i planted many Avocado and Mango seeds, a single avocado grew, I think it was the only seed that I didn't plant too deeply. This year, more have grown. I feel like I'm doing something clandestine and revolutionary when I plant a tree in this town. There is something revolutionary about growing a forest in this place where entire islands are razed for tourist amusement parks and gated communities, where so-called developers do not hesitate to bulldoze hundreds of acres of the last of the ancient woodland of New Providence and do not have to ask my consent, in this neighbourhood where people cu† down a one hundred year old blooming poinciana because flowers are falling on their car, and others who spend all the summer trying to sweep up the flowers... Yes there is something daring and anti-establishment about continuing to plant and grow trees in my little yard on this over-developed little island, these trees are my best protest poems, they are my green and living acts of resistance against five hundred years of patriarchal occupation, against forces that put women and the female Earth at constant risk for rape, exploitation, eradication... Alright, I know these are only a couple of mango seedlings, and I know there are real revolutionary women out there, in Honduras, in Afghanistan, in Congo, who are fighting for their lives every day. I do what I can do, with what I have, in the place where I find myself to be, and plant the mango seedlings in their name, in solidarity, in hope.

Emancipation Day Meditation

2010-08-01T12:52:00.000-07:00

This holiday weekend we celebrate the end of slavery, remember those who did not survive, and those that did, because they are our sacred ancestors. We pause to consider the many huge and small freedoms we enjoy today and raise our glasses and voices to them with gratitude. (I celebrate the freedom of speech most of all, promise myself to guard my right to express my differing opinions without fear of reprisals or worse.) And if we are brave, today we will think and speak of the people in the world who are still not free, maybe speak out for them, because they are us, and none of us are really free until all are free. I’m thinking about the estimated two million human beings, most of them women and girls, who will be trafficked around the world this year. Some say it will be as many as four million. According to UNIFEM, “trafficking involves the recruitment and transportation of persons, using deception, coercion and threats in order to place and keep them in a situation of forced labour, slavery or servitude. Persons are trafficked into a variety of sectors of the informal economy, including prostitution, domestic work, agriculture, the garment industry or street begging.” Poverty for women brought on by various forms of gender-based discrimination puts them (us) at high risk for trafficking, ie, slavery. UNIFEM reports that the main countries of origin are Central and South-Eastern Europe, the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS), and Asia, followed by West Africa, Latin America and the Caribbean. The most commonly reported countries of destination are in Western Europe, Asia and North America. It is Emancipation Day and we are freer than most, bright blessings be! But the struggle isn't over for so many women and girls of our generation. If we are free enough to celebrate today, sisters, lets do it in the name of those of us who are not.

What Are We Going to Do About the Gulf Oil Spill?

2010-06-05T09:49:00.000-07:00

There is oil in the water, disaster in the air. What are we going to do about it? Why can't they stop it? I feel horribly responsible. I'm so sorry Earth Mother. I'm so sorry Earth Mother. These are all the words I can find. We have wounded her and now don't know how to stop the bleeding.

I see nothing about the approaching oil in the local papers. I do not hear the voices of our leaders LEADING us, as they are especially mandated to do in times like this. What plans for disaster preparedness are in place? How will we clean it up when it reaches us? Doesn't the Government realize how terrified we are? What is the plan of action? We must demand to know. I am calling on local journalists to buck up and ask the questions the public looks to them to ask on its behalf, because this is their function. And every day there is no word from government regarding the disaster, the headlines in reputable papers should read, "Govt Silent as Environmental Crisis Looms." I don't give a dam at this point if Atlantis backs tax increases.

And just let me say, I will be pissed off if the first words from government or mainstream media regarding the Gulf oil disaster is to do with its impact on tourism revenue and not about action in the face of environmental crisis.

So far the Bahamian voices speaking out about the oil spill are to be heard on Facebook. But is The reEarth organization especially which is hard at work as usual, advocating for some real action from our government on our behalf. On their website they are calling Government's response "lack-luster, "shocking" and "underwhelming." They are calling for a plan and so am I.

Each and every one of us is responsible for what is happening. I use oil every day. I'm so sorry Earth Mother. I'm so sorry.

What About CEDAW?

2010-05-31T09:52:00.000-07:00

What's on my mind? I am asking the question, Why is The Bahamas still not a signatory to the United Nation's 1979 Convention on the Eradication of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW)? This document is often called the International Bill of Rights for Women. I was sixteen when CEDAW was ratified, and today at 48 my country has yet to accept this convention. Why? Could it be that we have continuously elected governments which do not care to eradicate discrimination against Bahamian women? Could it mean that we the people do not care that Bahamian women are still second class citizens and perhaps even like it that way because it seems more pleasing to the god of the day? Could it be that we remain a people which elects governments that will not commit themselves to undertake the series of measures to end discrimination against women in all forms, including

1.to incorporate the principle of equality of men and women in their legal system, abolish all discriminatory laws and adopt appropriate ones prohibiting discrimination against women

2. to establish tribunals and other public institutions to ensure the effective protection of women against discrimination and

3. to ensure elimination of all acts of discrimination against women by persons, organizations or enterprises.

I think it is that having to abolish all discriminatory laws part that hangs them up. Government MP Loretta Turner made a brave attempt this past year to abolish the law that discriminates against women victims of marital rape but was defeated. Judging from brief comments she made to the papers I would guess that it was the opposition of her own women voters that led to the demise of the proposed new legislation. Too many Bahamian women are co-conspirators with the patriarchy in their own continued oppression. Men don't have to bother keeping us down anymore, we do it for them. The Government doesn't ratify CEDAW because we women voters don't demand it.

I believe some Bahamian women don't demand equal rights because they are conditioned to believe that they might be flying in the face of their god if they try improve their lot by their own hand or voice and don't leave it all up to him. I believe others of us are smugly locked away in our ivory towers and don't wish to trade our false sense of comfort and security for the dirt and uncertainty of revolution, especially if we have managed to get by alright in the patriarchy. But like Madeline Allbright once said, "There is a special place in hell for women who do not help other women."

Loretta Turner remains our best hope for real legislative reform that would ensure true equality for Bahamian women. I don't know of one other woman MP who stood up for women they way she has. I want to go on record as one voter who supports her in her efforts. Perhaps Mrs Turner will be the one to pressure the Government to sign CEDAW at last.

Holy Mother, Please Forgive Me

2010-05-04T10:05:00.000-07:00

The massive oil spill has me sick with grief. Does anyone still think that drilling for oil along the Atlantic seaboard is a good idea? The ocean is crying today and so am I. The authorities are telling us that the chances for the spill reaching the Bahamas are remote. But other experts are imagining worst case scenarios that could occur with a simple change in weather conditions. At the time of this writing 2.5 million gallons of crude have poured into the ocean and a massive slick is looming over the Gulf States, and I feel the Ocean's pain and outrage, whether the oil reaches here or not. I would give up my dependence on oil to save the oceans, I would give up my car, my gas stove, yes, even my central air conditioner, Holy Mother, please forgive me. I would give it all up cold turkey, I would celebrate to hear that every oil rig in the sea is shut down and cleared away as of today, happy to go back to carriages and horses, sailing mail boats and no more plane rides, if it meant a catastrophe like this never happened again.

The Greatest Mother in the World

2010-03-13T08:04:00.000-08:00

I saw The Greatest Mother in the World today. She came out of Starbucks with a tray of coffees in one hand, surrounded by four sons under the age of ten, one of whom was in hysterics in the other hand. He was screaming at the pitch of his lungs, hanging by one arm, arched backward, and the Greatest Mother in the World carried him and the coffees along, inching toward the car, her other three sons moving slowly along with her like scrap junkanoos. Her eyes were set on her car where at least two more children were waiting, and, I swear, a baby in the back seat, held by a stunned looking young woman who was probably the nanny. I knew she was the Greatest Mother in the World by the what she did not do. She did not yell at her screaming son. She did not hit him. She did not even scowl at him. She did not frown about her plight. She did not scapegoat the other children. She did not call out to a god for mercy. She did not smile apologetically at me. She just held her struggling son aloft by the wrist, Statue of Liberty style, inching forward until she got them all to the car with nary a word. When she wrestled him into one window of the car and he climbed out the other she did not freak out, she wrestled him back in again placid faced and apparently asked the oldest son to sit on him which he did, quietly, though I didn't hear any of them speak. In my family everyone would have been screaming at each other at this point. I already knew she was The Greatest Mother in the World when she got in the driver's seat, and her son reached out from the back seat to yank her ponytail. But it was confirmed and undeniably so when she did not turn around and slap him. I could see her calm face through the windshield and could tell that she did not even want to slap him. She was actually having a perfectly good day, she was fully present and in the moment, embracing the moment, not struggling against it, not struggling to embrace it either, just a picture of composure and acceptance, and I stared, trying not to stare. She started the car, adjusted her ponytail, cool, steady, riding the wave, no tirade of complaints to the nanny, no admonishments for the children, no lines on her face as she drove away. Being the narcissistic poet that I am, of course I was sure that the Universe, conspiring to give me what I need the way she always does, deliberately gave me a glimpse of The Greatest Mother in the World today, an image I can store away in my Archive of Inspirations. I will take these snapshots out and look at them whenever I begin to feel overwhelmed at being a new mother again at the age of 48. I will remember that good mothering is radical feminism in action. Three Cheers for the Greatest Mother in the World, I know she enjoyed the hell out of that coffee.

Happy International Women's Day

2010-03-08T07:07:00.000-08:00

I wish you all a happy International Women's Day today. I wish I could write something beautiful and profound but there won't be time, baby will require me soon, and we'll spend the 100th IWD with Dora the Explorer, Moose A. Moose and Winnie the Pooh. But I'll be thinking all the while how grateful I am to the brave and brilliant Feminists who fought so hard for the last one hundred years to achieve equality, justice, peace and development for women. My little daughter's liberty today exists because of it. I'll celebrate IWD with her gladly, and with my son, who can only prosper in a world where women are truly equal and free. Bright womanish blessings to all.

Say No - Unite to End Violence against Women

2010-03-05T06:45:00.000-08:00

In November 2009 the United Nations Development Fund for Women (UNIFEM) launched the campaign Say No – UNITE to End Violence against Women. Since then this global advocacy initiative has stimulated, counted and showcased actions on ending violence against women. The platform has spotlit global efforts and has demonstrated the groundswell of support and actions on the issue.

Actions taken and counted since then have ranged from reaching out to students at schools, to volunteering at local shelters, advocating for legislation and donating funds towards programmes that protect women and girls from violence. The initial goal was to reach 100,000 actions by march 2010 and 1 million actions in one year. At the time of this writing 190,393 actions have been taken and recorded around the world. One easy and powerful action to take was – and is – to sign the global call to make ending violence against women a top priority worldwide.

Please go to http://www.saynotoviolence.org to sign your name.

I'd also like readers to know that natural disasters increase the risk of violence against women and girls. UNIFEM is working to raise seven million dollars to rebuild women's shelters in Haiti and you can help by giving to this fund.

The simple act of speaking out also counts as an action. Go to the Say No Facebook discussion boards and let your voices be heard and counted.

The facts and figures surrounding violence against women and girls are chilling. Up to 70 per cent of women experience physical or sexual violence from men in their lifetime – the majority by husbands, intimate partners or someone they know. Among women aged between 15 and 44, acts of violence cause more death and disability than cancer, malaria, traffic accidents and war combined. UNIFEM calls it “the most pervasive human rights violation that we know today. Numbers for Femicide, the murder of women because they are women, trafficking, sexual violence and other harmful practice like female genital mutilation and child brides have reached pandemic numbers.

Please join Say No – Unite to End Violence against Women today. Take action, join an action, do it for the women you love.

Who Cares About International Women's Day?

2010-03-01T18:43:00.000-08:00

On March 8, International Women’s Day (IWD) will be marked around the world with large scale events to celebrate the advancement of women and to remind us of the continued vigilance and action required to ensure that real equality is gained and maintained in all aspects of our lives. I'm quite sure there will be no events, large or small, held in this place to mark the occasion. I'm sure there will be no public statements of acknowledgment or solidarity from the politicians, certainly none from the church, none from the op-ed writers of the local newspapers. I'm certain no local news editors are sending reporters out to interview surviving Bahamian suffragists nor any of the feminist activists of our generation, there will be no special supplements about IWD, or the women's movement in the Bahamas, or in the world, no coverage of our advancements or our continuing struggles. I'm sure not one civic leader, not one business leader, not one religious leader, will give IWD a thought, much less a word. Bahamian women will be silent too. The global women's movement goes unacknowledged by most Bahamians. The only acknowledgment made in my country might be these poor words I write tonight in my little blog that no one reads. But I hold out hope that we'll hear the voices of some good writers I know, speaking up with me in celebration and support of the global women's movement on March 8 in their esteemed blogs. In the spirit of Nico Bethel's "Day of Absence", I challenge us all to imagine a world without the women's movement. Actually, it might look a lot like present-day Nassau.

Teach the Children Well

2010-01-27T05:59:00.000-08:00

It upsets me when I hear the little children I know and love speaking in the the racist/religious/hateful language of the local Bahamian press/the moneyed elite/the generally ignorant. There are probably more than a million orphan children struggling to get through the day today in Haiti. It is natural for children to want to help. That natural inclination in our children is at risk. It is hard to hear a child you love speaking about Haiti with no compassion, no natural wanting to help. We Bahamians who enjoy wealth and privilege (and that means anyone not in Port au Prince right now with time and ways enough to read this blog) must wake up and face the fact that we were mis-educated when it comes to Haiti, stop defending the ignorance and selfishness and get on with doing some reading, some learning, some changing and transforming, and some GIVING. Because our innocent children are watching. Teach the children well.

This Moment is Precious

2010-01-19T14:24:00.000-08:00

I am thinking about earthquakes. Another one has occurred in the Cayman Islands. We in the Bahamas are as vulnerable to quakes and tsunamis as any other place, and I never really knew it until now. The window is full of calm, a silent, still night is coming down, Haiti is crying, and I am stunned by the thought of all that we know and love around us, swept away in one terrible moment, that it happens to people all the time, that it is only luck so far that has saved us. It is not that we are "blessed," as too many otherwise sensible people are in the habit of saying. Because that would infer that victims of natural disasters are "cursed." It is only luck, nothing more. So there is nothing else to do but love one another, this moment is precious.

Stop Haitian Apprehension in The Bahamas For Now

2010-01-18T18:04:00.000-08:00

I support my government's decision to grant temporary status to Haitian detainees in The Bahamas and wonder at the inhumanity of those who are on the radio and in the papers criticizing this gesture. But I ask: If we are releasing the current detainees then why will "apprehension exercises" continue and "illegal Haitian migrants will be detained as normal under Bahamian law?" We release them and then continue to round them up too? I call on the government to stop apprehension exercises as well, in the name of the 50,000 people who died in the quake. I call on the government to also establish an amnesty period for all undocumented Haitians in the Bahamas to come forward so that they too can receive temporary status. And now that I think of it, why is it "temporary" status? Let them stay, let us have mercy, let love and mercy prevail.

Let Them Come

2010-01-15T12:49:00.000-08:00

Let Them Come
(For the Victims of the 2010 Haiti Earthquake)

let them come.
let us open our borders and let them in.
how can we not
and live?
because it is a matter of karma,
when it is our time the universe will remember.
because we are to keep our sisters and brothers,
we are to share our shelter.
let them come in pieces across the water,
let us give them love and bread and medicine,
or we will burn.

let them be called refugees,
no longer “illegal” or “alien,”
let them know we are sorry we never recognized
until now
they are our family,
tell them we are sorry for The Mud,
the raids at midnight,
the rapes at the Detention Center.
we are sorry for denying belonging
to their children who are born here.
we will meet them on the beaches,
we will tell them ourselves that we are sorry.

let them come.
we owe Haiti, Mother of the Free Caribbean,
we owe Haiti, we looked away when the soldiers rampaged, then the poverty.
we owe Haiti, too many babies are crying in Port au Prince tonight
for our comfortable sleep to continue,
let us become the ones they are waiting for,
the ones willing to begin to repay them.
open the borders and let them in,
how can we not
and live?

We Are Haiti, Haiti Is Us

2010-01-14T08:22:00.000-08:00

I am desperate to do what I can for the poor people of Haiti. I am asking my Government leaders to lead us in a serious relief effort. I am ready to load up my car with baby formula and blankets and water, where to bring it? I want to see my MPs at the airport loading boxes onto planes. I want to see millionaires writing big checques, donating aircraft I want to see we ordinary people contacting our MPs and by the hundreds and thousands today to let them know we want our country to be a leader in humanitarian aid, because we are Haiti, Haiti is us. Then we must be ready to give what what we can, do what we can to pitch in. I have written an urgent message to my MP Loretta Turner, to let her know I am listening for her voice now, and that I am ready to help. I urge my Bahamian readers to contact their MPs. Put Facebook, Twitter and the blogs to some good use. Every voice counts.

Human Rights Day

2009-12-10T12:16:00.000-08:00

Sixty one years ago today the United Nations adopted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and set down the basic principles at the heart of the human rights movement. “Human Rights Day” is a high point on the UN calendar and organizations and activists around the world are holding events today to commemorate the anniversary. I am saddened to see that there will be no official marking of this day in my country. But I am grateful to still have the means to make a personal call to end all forms of discrimination, here and everywhere.

Bahamians who are comfortable love to talk about how there is no discrimination to speak of in the Bahamas. But the rest of us know the truth. As Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon said in his message today: “No country is free of discrimination.” And he pointed out that “discrimination targets individuals and groups that are vulnerable to attack: the disabled, women and girls, the poor, migrants, minorities, and all those who are perceived as different.”

His words make me think of the girl who was raped by a police officer while in custody this past summer. She and her parents know about the terrible danger girls are in because of discrimination against them. I remember too the woman from three years back who was dragged through the street naked by arresting police and held naked in the public area of the station for several hours like an animal on display. She also knows all about the nature of discrimination against her kind, ie, woman, unmarried mother, poor. I think about the thousands and thousands of women battered and abused in their homes every day across this land of islands. I think about the recent efforts to change laws that would return to married women the right to press rape charges against their husbands and all the hateful opposition that we heard, most of it coming from that premier oppressor of women, the church.

I am also thinking of my friends who are Gay and who struggle every day against a hatred especially reserved for them, and think of those who have fled the country all together in search of equality and inclusion.

And yes, I am thinking of myself too and the discrimination I have been able to survive and transform so that I can be here writing these words.

I write on this day to affirm human rights for all people who are at risk for discrimination here and around the world and once again call on my government to begin to take some serious action against violence against women and children in the Bahamas.

Speak Up for the Sisters At Risk

2009-11-10T04:42:00.000-08:00

My childhood was filled with violence. I was attacked by children in the neighbourhood and in the schoolyard every day. I was beaten, thrown to the ground, hit with rocks, whipped with tree branches. I was thrown down the stairs. I was drowned. Dogs were set on me. I was spit on, ridiculed, rejected and cursed, by family, culture, religion, all. This is the truth of my life as a child of difference in the island patriarchy. But the ugliest truth of those years is that there never seemed to be anyone around who Spoke Up For Me, no one who would Advocate for me. In those times I still did not have a voice of my own, like any child. And like any child, I had the right to the protection and love of advocates, people who spoke for me when I could not speak for myself. But there were none to be found, even though many people who were meant to be protecting me were often standing around blind-eyed when the violence was coming down. I remember thinking so many times: why won't they do anything? In the tenth grade a boy football-tackled me to the ground. As I lay flat out on my back trying to recover, the PE teacher approached and... stepped over my fallen body and carried on his way. But I especially remember being attacked by neighbourhood children while my seventeen year old brother watched from his hiding place behind the Cassia tree as they pushed me down, kicked me in the face, pelted me with rocks. He came out when they were done and carried me home. But why would he not stop the attack? My own brother would not be my advocate when I was facing the violence. When I told my parents about the beatings, the drownings, the incident with the dogs... they would only say, "O, it wasn't that bad." If I pressed it they'd talk about some "man without feet" whose spectre was meant to make me feel grateful I was not him. No one was ever held accountable for the brutality. In the absence of anyone to speak up for me, in the silence where their protests on my behalf were meant to be, my oppressors received impunity and protection.

At the age of eleven I began to write a diary, and I realize now looking back that this was a subconscious act to begin advocating for myself. By the time I was in my twenties and working as a journalist I was recovered from the childhood trauma and wanting to use the power of my job to help the invisible become visible, to be a way for them to get their voices and their stories heard. In my thirties I came back to my own story in poetry, and today, in my forties, I'm doing the best I can to use the power of the Web and this blog to advocate for women and children at risk, to speak for them, to stand for them, in honor of the little girl I was, in celebration of the survivor I am today.

And yes, I tell you this story for a little bit of sweet revenge too.

But mostly I'm telling this story at last and now because of the resounding silence that is heard across my country where there should be voices ringing out in protest against the violence huge and growing numbers of Bahamian women are faced with every day. We owe an unpayable debt of gratitude to women like Dr Sandra Patterson, Allyson Hamilton and a handful of others, voices in the patriarchal wilderness who speak out relentlessly on their behalf. In recent months MP Loretta Turner joined this small intrepid band of women's advocates when she introduced an amendment to the Sexual Ofences Act. But where are the throngs of women from the community answering their call to become advocates for our sisters, for one another? I see only silent, empty streets. I hear only silence. This silence among women on behalf of women provides protection and impunity for the violent offenders. We women survivors of violence of all kinds must break this collective silence, tell our own stories, tell our sisters' stories too. And we women who enjoy relative freedom and safety must extend our hands and voices to our sisters who do not, because we are not free until all are free. We must talk less about forgiveness and more about justice and transformation. We must come out of our places of comfort and privilege and be our sisters' keepers. We must own the power of our individual and collective voices to change the world, one woman at a time.

Fighting for the Freedom of Ideas in the Caribbean

2009-11-07T17:42:00.000-08:00

It is dangerous to be a woman with ideas in the island patriarchy. Cuban womanish blogger Yoani Sanchez knows this. She was assaulted, detained and threatened by government agents on Friday in Havana and warned that she was going too far in her blog, Generation Y in her criticisms of Cuba. Her account of the assault is already up on her blog. This young woman was punched repeatedly, dragged into a car by her hair, fighting all the way, where they forcefully and violently continued to restrain her, and continued to beat her. She writes that as one man pinned her down with a knee to her chest until she almost couldn’t breath she managed to grab the offender by his testicles and sink her fingernails into him screaming, “Kill me now!” They let her breath after that. When the vicious beating was over they left Yoani and her companions lying in the street. Not long after she wrote and published her chilling story, never crying victim, only telling the truth, and ending her post with these powerful words: “I managed to see the degree of fright of our assailants, the fear of the new, of what they cannot destroy because they don’t understand, the blustering terror of he who knows that his days are numbered.” This Caribbean woman is, as we used to say, bad out there. She is fighting an epic battle for the freedom of her ideas, and her right to express them. She knows how powerful her words/ideas are, how powerful the internet is in her quest to be heard. (Her blog gets one million hits a month.) Apparently her adversaries know it too. But she is not deterred today, she is writing on, fighting on, changing the world by telling truth about her life, against all odds. That she can indeed change the world by writing and speaking her truth is Ms. Sanchez's most dangerous idea of all.

Happy New Year

2009-10-31T06:41:00.000-07:00

It is Samhain (pronounced, sow-wen) , the highest holy day on the Wiccan calendar, New Year's Day, the day when the veil between us and the Spirit World thins to mist, and our sacred ancestors and beloved dead are readying to pay us a visit tonight, if we will have them, watching to see if we are making a Place for them, looking for the candle in the western window that guides them home to us. I don't know about you, but I am grateful for the chance to have the company and council of the Ancestors. I am grateful to have remembered the Old Religion, grateful for its modern revival, because the ceremonies and celebrations touch my heart and make me glad, in them I am reconnected to my ancient past, to my modern day global community of Earth Worshipers, my identity as an Earthling at home is restored to me. My identity as an eternal spiritual being is also restored. All feelings of isolation are gone and with them, all feelings of powerlessness too. Gone away is the hopeless resignation instilled in me by a hateful mainstream culture, that lie that says all is lost, nothing can be done. Goddess religion has taught me that there is always something to be done and that I can do it. In the rituals of laying the altars, carving the jackolantens and festooning the Bulgeria tree with beautiful black witch hats, of the costumed theatre we'll put on for each other and for the children who come trick or treating, all in the ringing company of the loveliest and dearest of our spirits, I am happier, ie, stronger, than on any other day of the year. I am happy because Earth Magic is strong, nothing can stop the wheel from turning, not even the fearful fundamentalists in this neighbourhood who will set off explosions to frighten the traveling ghosts away, and others who will close and darken their houses against the families that persevere and will trick or treat tonight and pretend they are not home. None can stop the cosmos from her dancing, none can stop me. This is the last thing the conquerors want to see in me, a joyful sense of personal empowerment. They will ask, Who does she think she is, being happy, and making such a spectacle and show of it? I think I am a child of the Great Cosmic Mother, I think the life I live is awesome and worth celebrating, I think tonight I might fly on my broom for true, just to startle the neighbours, how bored they must be. I think it's time to carve the pumpkin. A happy new year to all, with many bright blessings.

The Womanish Words of Yoani Sanchez

2009-10-21T11:29:00.000-07:00

I am thinking about Cuban blogger Yoani Sanchez, winner of a 2009 Maria Moors Cabot Award, the oldest international award for journalism and given by the Columbia University School of Journalism. Sanchez is an ordinary Cuban citizen who won the coveted award for her weekly blog Generacion Y. She was denied permission to travel to New York City to receive her prize at formal ceremonies at the university recently.

As I write I am looking at her blog for the first time. Just a quick perusal and already I have learned things I didn’t know about the way Cubans survive on a daily basis in this restricted island country that is so close to my own. I learned that folks have learned how to loot abandoned buildings for building materials for their own houses because these materials are otherwise unobtainable. I’ve learned that while government radio warns about the need for more hygiene to combat the spread of the flu, many Cubans cannot afford soap. I’ve learned that efforts to bring the technology of internet publishing to Cubans in rural areas will bring on a visit from the state police. And I have learned that one woman speaking out for her human rights on the web can get the world’s attention.

“Yoani Sanchez is an ordinary Cuban citizen using the internet with extraordinary power,” says the Journalism School of Columbia University. “In barely two years her weekly blog has put the rest of the world in touch with Cuba – at east digitally. It is a pitch-perfect mix of personal observation and tough analysis which conveys better than anybody else what daily life is like for Cubans living their lives on the island today. “

Sanchez, a 34 year old philologist, “persues her craft with ingenuity, scarce resources and an enormous amount of guts, buying a few minutes here and there on one of the few internet-connected computers available to Cubans in Havana, quickly downloading and emailing her written and video comments to devoted supporters who post the blog in 15 languages. She has a loyal following of thousands around the world. For her courage, talent and great achievement in such a brief period of time, the Maria Moors Cabot board is proud to award Yoani Sanchez a special citation for journalistic excellence.”

I am not one of those who likes to argue about Cuba. For most of my life my main source of information about Cuba has been the South Florida television news and so I try to do more listening than talking on the subject. But I feel compelled to pay tribute to Yoani Sanchez today, a revolutionary island sister using the power of her voice and the web to tell her stories and to focus the world's attention on her daily struggles and triumphs, despite her government's efforts to silence her. I salute her bravery and the way she has owned her personal power, and her voice, and put it to such good use.

She assures her readers in a recent post: "Offices with uniformed people confirm, "you may not travel at this time," although I am already thousands of kilometres from here, in this virtual world that they cannot understand nor fence in."

Thank you Yoani Sanchez for your bravery, your vision, your world-altering womanish words.

Amnesty International's Global Write-a-thon for Human Rights

2009-10-15T18:56:00.000-07:00

Tonight I signed up for the Amnesty International Global Write-a-thon, the world's largest letter writing event, organized to mark International Human Rights Day on December 10, and to give people like us a chance to use the proven power of writing letters to pressure authorities around the world to release those who have been unjustly imprisoned and to stop the torture and abuse of others.

"The pen is truly mightier than the sword," says Amnesty. "Millions of Amnesty International members around the world have taken up the pen to bring freedom and hope to prisoners of conscience, human rights defenders, victims of torture and other individuals at risk since 196.1 They've acted on the words of imprisoned Nobel Peace Prize laureate Aung San Suu Kyi, who asked the world: "Please use your freedom to promote ours."

I've pledged to write three letters for the write-a-thon and apparently in November the website will provide a list of the featured cases, the people who need our advocasy and I can choose then who I will write for. I've promised to write and send them between December 5 and 13. These letters, Amnesty says, "make a difference in the lives of real people." They give two women realeased from prison in February 2009 as examples: Ma Khin Khin Leh of Myanmar (Burma) and Hana Abdi of Iran, both women's rights advocates, both unjustly imprisoned and both freed largely because of the letter writing pressure that Amnesty International brought to bear.

The letters I write will advocate for the freedom and protection of women like these, but they will be an act of personal revolution too. The island patriarchy has worked hard to make me believe that I am powerless. But try as it might this wicked culture cannot take away my voice, or the belief that my voice joined with others can indeed set an innocent woman free and make a difference in the world.

I promised Amnesty I'd encourage you to sign up for the 2009 Write-a-thon for Human Rights, to use your freedom to promote freedom for others, so consider yourself encouraged!

Zora at the Shakespeare Festival - Fantastic!

2009-10-12T08:19:00.000-07:00

I saw Kim Brockington in "Zora" at the Shakespeare in Paradise Theatre Festival yesterday and I just want to say how very cool it was, on so many levels. As a woman writer I had to see it, the portrayal of writer, folklorist, poet Zora Neale Hurston, a shining star of the Harlem Renaissance in America in the 1920s, lost to us in a maelstrom of lies and slander, (and by patriarchal hatred of strong women with different opinions, if you ask me) returned to us again in the 1970s when Alice Walker went looking for her grave and wrote about the journey, and the woman, and why she is so important to literature and to herstory. I had to see it to as a Nassauvian hungry for creative inspiration and artistic community too. Nicolette Bethel had somehow conjured up a Shakespeare festival out of the dust and there was a buzz in the air about it. It was apparant that this festival was something good, something we had to be a part of. (I felt the same way about the Bahamas Summer Writers Institute this year, the brainchild of Helen Klonaris. I am so grateful for the amazing work these two writers do, the spaces they create for the Arts to survive and thrive, and for being able to count them both as my friends!) Ms. Brockington was fabulous beyond words, really. She WAS Zora and we were in her lifestory with her. She morphed into one key character in Zora's life after another (a one-woman play is an awesome thing) and back to Zora again, we laughed and cried (I cried a lot) and at the end we were all changed forever. We knew the truth about a woman writer who knew something about all of us. Apparently Zora was into Voudun and was known to promise to return from the grave to set her story straight. I think she has kept her promise, and Kim Brockington is one of her voices. Very wonderful experience, this play at this place, good to be at the Dundas Theatre again. I felt overwhelmed with pride and affection for the good old friends I saw, still doing the Very Good Work of making good theatre in this impossible place. There was Mr Philip Burrows, getting a good show on as usual and I suddenly thought, how brilliant is he? Very brilliant, a cultural hero of our generation. He and Nicolette both have given us so much, helped us to become more than we would have had they not been in our lives! Zora came to me right on time, I love a good story about a woman writing the truth about her life. A heartfelt thank you to Ms Brockington and to everyone involved.

Mum, They Bombed the Moon Today

2009-10-09T05:47:00.000-07:00

"Mum they bombed the moon today," our thirteen year old son said to me this morning as he left for school. I had no words for him, except for, "I know." I still am at a loss to express the sadness I feel, that the Moon I venerate as a Wiccan and a woman of Earth would be attacked in this way. And it is a sad irony too that America's NASA would commit this act on the same day that Obama is awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.

I suppose we should be grateful that it wasn't really a bomb, and that the hole they made in the lunar surface is only as big as an Olympic swimming pool. Still. What on Earth were the NASA people thinking when they crashed a large empty rocket hull into the moon's south pole at 7.31 am today? They spent $79 million dollars to blow a hole into the moon just to be able to say that there may be ice there, and if so, one day in the future when we're all dead, they may be able to build and man a moon station, ie, colonize. Really, this is outrageous.

Hasn't humanity learned its lesson yet? Aren't the terrible consequences of colonization on Earth already plain to see? How does any one country on the Earth have the right to strike a missile at another planet? Who owns the moon, who has jurisdiction?

No country, no person owns the moon, it is She who owns us. She has been with us since the beginning:

"At night cosmos reveals herself in her vastness, the earth opens to moisture and germination under the moonlight, and the magnetic serpentine current stirs itself in the underground waters - just as the thick, snakey spry of stars, the Milky Way, winds across the night sky. Moon phases are a part of the great cosmic dance in which everything participates: the movement of the celestial bodies, the pulse of tides, the circulation of blood and sap in animals and plants. Observation of the night sky, of the stars, and especially of the moon, was the beginnings of mathematics and science," Monica Sjoo and Barbra Mor remind us in their vital book, The Great Cosmic Mother: Rediscovering the Religion of the Earth. Moon callendars, which were of course invented by mensturating women, marked the beginning of human culture on Earth.

Someone at NASA was reported to say that the crash today "didn't hurt the moon.' Of course it did. And it hurt us too. Let the moon keep her ice. Let us keep her intact and untouched, let us remember she is sacred to us.

O moon, I'm sorry.

Bloggers Unite for UN's International Day of Peace

2009-09-21T06:08:00.000-07:00

In 2001 the UN adopted a new resolution declaring this day the International Day of Peace, “to encourage the observation of a worldwide, grassroots 24-hour vigil for peace and nonviolence by all people who seek peace in the world.” I pledge my commitment to the vigil with humility, because “peaceful” is not a word too many people would use to describe me. I’m the one with all the fighting words. It is hard to be a peaceful woman in the island patriarchy, there is so much to speak out about. But today I’ll vow a certain silence instead, my quiet will be my contribution to the world effort toward peace. Beginning now.

An Empowered Woman is a Fabulous Thing and Only Wicked Men Will Fear Her

2009-09-16T06:14:00.000-07:00

Personal empowerment. This is the holy grail for the woman in the island patriarchy. I believe that for many of us the first step on this journey is the hard realization that personal power was lost in the first place. We island women have been so well conditioned to think happy thoughts, count our blessings, be grateful we don't live in Iraq. We're bombarded these days with admonitions to think positively, to count our blessings, be grateful, to suffer in silence. When the house is on fire we are more likely to think positively about the fire, (at least it is a pretty fire) rather than getting up, putting it out, and saving the house. We are raised and taught and trained well to mistake enslavement for equality, to confuse real strength with collusion in our own oppression. Too many of us are raised on stories about the way Jesus took his beatings and execution willingly, the inference being of course that we too are expected to forbear. We are taught that suffering is the only way to please the god. Why should we complain about being secondary to any old man no matter our gifts or special talents, by the law of the land and of the god, now there's been such a grand crucifixion? We are taught to try and match that suffering anyhow, we learn how to catch hell and call it a good time. Far too many of us know too that the consequences of any attempts to change one's life to better achieve some personal fulfillment can bring the house down. It is hard to start a womanish revolution in this kind of psychic landscape. It is near impossible in a Caribbean town where women are handmaids to the patriarchy because it is better than dying, better than the endangerment we might bring upon ourselves if we speak out for a sister who has lost her voice, if we speak out for ourselves. We have learned to see personal empowerment, ie, the right to sovereignty over our thoughts, our bodies, our lives and our stories, as a vain, selfish, sinful pursuit. It is not. It is the act of living the life of a free woman. So many of us have lost our womanish memories of real empowerment, we are the daughters of the daughters of the daughters whose memories were lost, and while we work on in our oblivion of amnesia and religious acceptance, usually in isolation from one another, the patriarchy is upheld for another day. When we can name the oppression that binds us, then we know how to get free. It is not ingratitude that causes the conscious island woman to protest or resist the lies, prisons and gods of the patriarchy, it is that she has been transformed by her own hand into someone with the power to re-invent and re-create her self and her life into something more than the beautiful sufferer. An empowered woman is a fabulous thing and only wicked men will fear her.

Bloggers Unite for UNESCO's International World Literacy Day

2009-09-07T15:20:00.000-07:00

Books saved my life. This is no overstatement. And so I am pleased to join the folks at Bloggers Unite and dedicate today’s writing (September 8) to the marking of UNESCO’s International Literacy Day. On this day every year UNESCO reminds the international community of the status and literacy and adult learning globally. First celebrated in 1966, its aim is to highlight the importance of literacy to individuals, communities and societies. At the time of this writing, 774 million adults lack minimum literacy skills, one in five adults is still not literate, and TWO THIRDS OF THEM ARE WOMEN. I offer my small voice for those women especially in this post.

I say again: Books saved my life. When other children were learning to walk, I was learning to read. Some ill-advised orthopedic surgery at the ages of three and five had done more harm than good, turning a minor issue into full-on disability for me. My mobility was severely compromised. I was confined to a bed recovering for the first five years of my life and spent much of the rest of my childhood sitting in one chair or another. I look back on those years in wonder, because while I was aware that I was different, and while the rejection of children and strangers was often hurtful, and while I fell down a lot, (o la) those are not the images my memory shows to me. Instead, I remember the books. The books that saved my life. The first one being an enormous, glossy storybook called Pi Gal (who wrote it, where is the book now, how can I get another copy?), a reading prize in third grade. It was the story of an island boy and his dog. I remember reading that book a thousand times, transfixed by the tale of their adventure, which had something to do with the poet Shelley, something to do with beauty, strength and survival, and something to do with me. I remember instead the book The Secret Garden, that beloved, liberating, magical Place, where Mary found her resurrection, where Colin found his legs and where I found something precious that I can only now begin to name. Then there was Alice in Wonderland, which I always read with a little trepidation, a little fear… what if the next time I went into that land of grinning cats and smoking caterpillars I couldn’t get back out? But I’d always jump down that rabbit hole with Alice anyway. It felt like bravery, it felt like freedom, it felt like fun. Oliver Twist was my brother orphan, I loved him because he knew what it was to beg for gruel and suffer for want of love, he knew what it was to dream, and best of all, his dream came true. These were more than stories to me, these were Ways out of no way, they were messages to me from the Spirit World telling me to persevere, that life was indeed a beautiful thing. These stories were my legs, they were my wings.

Books saved my life again in later years when I was struggling to become an empowered, ie, creative woman in the island patriarchy. We were a small tribe of emerging, womanish writers and we were making a journal of literature by and for women, writing and gathering up stories that told the truth about island women’s lives, stories that were full of radical ideas like, women’s stories are powerful, women’s voices are crucial for a civilized, i.e., ever growing culture. There were no local models, we were working in the dark, but we had some candles. We knew if we kept writing we could rise up the sleeping sun. The book, Women Who Run With the Wolves by Dr Clarissa Pinkola-Estes was the pivotal sun-rising, work-inspiring book of that time for me. In that book Estes gave me story of the Handless Woman, It was about how even a handless woman will make it through the deep forest to the other side, with the help of the earth and her attendant spirits, ie, her own instinct, and when she gets there she finds her hands have re-grown. I think of that story nearly every day. Another book to bring on a new dawn for me in those years was The Great Cosmic Mother: Rediscovering the Religion of the Earth by Monica Sjoo and Barbara Mor. This monumental book tells the story of women on earth, from the day before the first day of time, two and a half billion years ago to the present time and tells the story of the central and fundamental role that women played in the creation and development of human culture. This was the book that opened the door to imaginings of what the Earth Religion of our Lucayan ancestors might have once looked like, and how it could be revived and applied to my modern island life, and what kind of stories that such a revival would beg to be written. These are the books that saved my writing life, that changed me from a disgruntled, i.e., victimized journalist to a striving poet and activist, a feminist book publisher, a writer in a community of writers, bearing witness, planning and scheming, writing the new age into reality. These were the books that revealed to me that the written word and the story told have the innate, active, magical power to change the shape and colour and meaning of the physical world around me. They opened my eyes to the power of poetry, and of journal writing both, the latter of which has now become this advocasy blog.

I am forever grateful to the writers of these books, and I am grateful I learned to read at such a young age. It is hard to believe that so many millions around the world are still struggling to live without the empowerment that reading and literacy provides. I am thinking now: How many children in my country don't have books to read today? What kind of state are our community libraries in? What are our literacy rates and what needs to be done about them? I mean to find out.

Bloggers Unite for Women's Equality Day

2009-08-19T08:53:00.000-07:00

When women of the Caribbean and the Americas are truly equal, stay at home mothering will be a paying job. (Yes, at-home fathers will be paid too, of course, but this blog is not about them.) On that wonderful day coming women like me will be among the highest paid in all the land, together with teachers, nurses and police, and it will be illegal for preachers to make any money at all. I'm just saying. Stay at home mothering and the daily creation of the home and the family is a profession that has asked more of me than all of my jobs as a professional writer put together. My job at the time of this writing is to keep the rest of the folks in this household alive, fed, clothed, sheltered, clean, nurtured, educated, comforted, well-advised, contented, interconnected, inspired, protected and well-loved, all through every day, all through every night, and do it with a peaceful, joyful spirit. I get it right some of the time. When I am not getting it right, and someone or everyone is suffering because of it, including me, it is usually because I am freaking out about all the unpaid labor that I do. No wonder women would rather choose a dreary job with a paycheck over the unpaid labour of the woman at home. If motherhood paid then more of the best womanish minds of my generation would choose motherhood like it was as liberating and empowering as education and travel and free thought, it would be another wonderful life option with promises of enrichment and opportunity and financial security. It would make steaming the chicken so much more fun. It would empower me and free us all. I love my job. I love the blessed, beautiful work of mothering and making home. I wouldn't leave it for any outside employment unless the pay was enormous and I could hire a full time nanny with a degree. And a cook. Yes it is worth sacrifice, having the power to watch over our children as they grow, not having to wonder if the babysitter is hitting them or leaving them unattended, (how do the "working mothers" do it?). Stay at home mothering is certainly worth sacrificing many indulgences for a season, but mothers are people too. We are born with certain human rights, one of them being the right to self governance and personal empowerment, including financial empowerment. These are not indulgences they are requirements for a womanish mother's civilized life. It is crucial for a cultured, progressive society that women and mothers especially are never falling into pits of poverty and desperation because they have children. Let me say here: I do not live in poverty, not really. There are real poor people in this world and I know I am not among them at this moment. That I am cooking supper and blogging about human rights is proof of my continuing privilige even though my pockets are literally empty. But the fact still remains that the labor I perform as a stay at home mother is unpaid labor. I figure my work as mother and the maker of a home is worth at least $100 an hour in these hard economic times. Mr Prime Minister, are you listening? It is Women's Equality Day and I am celebrating by imagining a better world for women, and for mothers and their children especially.

Another Bahamian Woman Fallen in War

2009-08-11T10:36:00.000-07:00

A woman was shot dead in front of her two children yesterday in her mother's driveway in a Nassau neighbourhood. A Caribbean woman's life is not beautiful. I want to know her life story and honor it. I want to express my outrage and demand justice for her baby crying for her at this moment. I ask: Where is the front page preacher today? Where are these damned clerics when an innocent woman has lost her life to the violence of men with guns? Where are the Voices of the Community rising up and calling out for the end to violence against women in the Bahamas? I say again, there needs to be some noise coming from the artists, writers and intellectuals in the country, we are the ones most responsible for affecting the public consciousness, we are the voice of the public consciousness, we are powerful when we move together, when we speak together. The wider community too, where is the public outcry? Where is the conscious, active women's movement in the Bahamas, and in the Caribbean for that matter? Who will speak for us if we cannot speak for ourselves and one another? The creepy church pastors, that's who.

Support the Ammendment to the Bahamas Sexual Offences and Domestic Violence Act

2009-08-08T14:38:00.000-07:00

I stand in full support of MP Loretta Turner's proposed amendment to the Sexual Offences and Domestic Violence Act that would outlaw marital rape in the Bahamas. All conscious, awakened, womanish women of the Bahamas need to speak up publicly and vehemently in support of Mrs Turner's proposed legislation. (All decent, non-violent, woman-honouring men who do not beat their wives also need to step up and express their support for this ammendment.)

As I see it, the new law would mean that married women who are brutalized by their husbands would win the right to bring rape charges against their attackers, a right that is denied them at this present time. This oversight in the present Act provides impunity for epidemic numbers of rapists who happen to be husbands. It turns marriage into the liscence to brutalize and terrorize. The law as it stands now serves to make it all the more difficult and even impossible for many women to get themselves free of their attackers. It aids in the perpetuation of cycles of brutality, grave injury and desperation for the thousands of women who are beaten at home every year in this country.

It is hard to imagine how any decent person in this day and age would stand against a battered woman as she struggles to get herself and her children away from the man beating her. Because this is what rape is, a beating. But sure enough, a national newspaper editor has given tonight's front page to coverage of a preacher speaking at a Rotary Club luncheon (can you say, old boys' network?), who seems to think the new law has something to do with "governing sexual intercourse." I don't know if the preacher is stupid, or evil when he misrepresents the issue in this way. I don't know if the editor is stupid or evil when he fails to get his reporter to make the clarification in her story. I don't know if any of the gentlemen (and women?) of Rotary had the courage to challenge the preacher and advocate for the women at risk who would most benefit from this new law. All the gentlemen involved in bringing us these idiotic, damaging remarks need to remember; RAPE AND BATTERY IS NOT SEX, IT IS A VIOLENT CRIME.

The wacko preachers will carry on, they always do when women are getting themselves free. Their minions will continue to provide them with forums for their religious hysteria and self-important ravings. But their era is passing away. There is a new consciousness among Bahamian women today, a new awareness of our rights as human beings, a new sense of empowerment and possibility. Loretta Turner's brave proposal is symbolic of this revival of womanish activism. She is especially representing the battered wives of the Bahamas, saying loudly on their behalf, We're not going to take it anymore! I want to add my voice to hers. I want to call on the intellectuals and artists of the country especially to come forward and give their public support to this ammendment . I send out a call to the women blog writers of the Caribbean too and ask that they raise their global voices in solidarity with Bahamian battered wives.

Change is going to come.

Queen Nanny of the Windward Maroons Remembered on Emancipation Day

2009-08-03T17:06:00.000-07:00

On Emancipation Day I am thinking about Queen Nanny of the Windward Maroons of Jamaica. It is said she was an Akan/Asante woman of the Gold Coast (now known as Ghana) sold into slavery in the early eighteenth century who escaped into the mountains of Jamaica to form the community of the Maroons. Others say she came to Jamaica from Africa a free woman with slaves of her own. Either way, she is famous for leading her people in an heroic struggle against the British colonial empire and its institution of slavery in Jamaica.

Queen Nanny was the spiritual, cultural and military leader of the Windward Maroons, guiding them through the most intense period of their resistance against the British, between 1725 and 1740. She and her people were “fierce and ferocious fighters with a preference for resistance, survival and above all freedom and refused to become slaves.” (www.jamaicans.com). Led by Queen Nanny the Maroons repeatedly won battles against the British. Story has it she was an expert in guerilla warfare and trained her troops in the art of camouflage, covering soldiers herself with tree branches and instructing them to stand as still as possible so that they would resemble trees. “As the British soldiers approached completely unaware they were surrounded they would swiftly be picked off by the Maroons,” says writer Deborah Gabriel. Queen Nanny built Maroon settlements high in the mountains with only a narrow path leading to the towns, so that soldiers approaching single file could be seen from far off and taken out one by one. The Maroons’ ability to beat back great numbers of British troops with only small numbers of their own is now legend.

African spiritual practices like Obeah and Voodoo were always at the heart of African slave rebellions and it is likely that Queen Nanny was herself an Obeah priestess, expert in the Earth Religion arts of ancestor worship, herbalism, and rituals that brought the community together in ways that made them a united and unbeatable force to be reckoned with. Legend has it that she placed a large cauldron on a mountain path that was said to be boiling even though there was no fire beneath it. British soldiers are said to have looked into the pot, fallen into it and died, or they collapsed and fell down the mountain. Some say she juiced the pot with special herbs with anaesthetic properties. Another legend tells of a time when the Maroons were near starvation and about to surrender when Nanny heard the voices of the Ancestors telling her not to give up. When she woke there were pumpkin seeds in her pocket, which she planted and grew a hillside of gigantic pumpkins in a few days, saving her people. Pumpkin Hill still exists in Jamaica today.

Some said Queen Nanny could catch bullets with her hands apparently a highly developed art form in some parts of Africa. But I like better the story that says she could catch bullets with her buttocks and fart them out again. This vulgar spin on the story was added by the British who hated and despised her in an effort to be deliberately offensive when speaking of her. But I have a feeling she would laugh out loud to hear it. Some said she wore a belt of many knives, others said her belt was hung with the teeth of colonial soldiers. She is a mythical, magical figure in the national narrative of Jamaica, a folk shero with an identity always growing and changing with every new generation. But as Gabriel writes, “the story of the Maroons endurance and ability to hold off the British troops for almost eighty years is one that has never been repeated in history.” Their greatness as a force of resistance and rebellion in the face of the massive Colonial empire is fact. And it is undeniable too that Queen Nanny was the greatest of all their leaders.

Queen Nanny of the Windward Maroons is loved and revered by her descendants who still live in Jamaica today, though the male writers of patriarchal Jamaican history have largely ignored her. The best Caribbean poets of today like Kamau Braithwaite, Lorna Goodison, Grace Nichols and Honor Ford Smith have all written of her, her image is on the Jamaican five hundred dollar bill. Present day Maroons consider themselves Nanny's progeny and call her Grandy Nanny or Queen Nanny. She has become a symbol of resistance, endurance, survival and triumph for all oppressed people.

It would have done me good to hear about this iconic womanish figure of the islands when I was growing up a brown child of difference in Nassau in the 1970s. Maybe I could have prayed to her as my Caribbean ancestor and in turn been inspired to more bravery, more fighting spirit, a better sense of self preservation, a greater sense of justice and how to create it. I'm grateful to know about her now. I feel sure I have the right to claim her as one of my sacred, womanish ancestors of the Caribbean, even with all my apparant whiteness. I wonder if Queen Nanny was known to my own Black great grandmother, Helen Minns Drudge, who most probably had a great grandmother of her own who survived slavery. I hope so. I believe so. I also believe that the present-day, global women's movement would do well to revisit the legacy of Nanny as we continue our struggles against oppression, violence and inequality in a patriarchal world. I feel called to point out here that at the time of this writing the American State Departmnent reports that over the past year at least 700,000, and possibly as many as four million men, women and children worldwide were bought, sold, transported and held against their will in slave-like conditions. The victims are mostly women and girls from developing countries.

So to celebrate Emancipation Day I light a candle for Queen Nanny of the Windward Maroons, invite her in to join my ever-emerging, personal pantheon of Caribbean goddesses and sacred grandmothers, thank her for her good fight to free us all.

On the Front Line

2009-07-28T09:23:00.000-07:00

On the Front Line

(For Helen Klonaris, Marion Bethel, and all the faculty and students of the first Bahamas Summer Writers Institute: Thank you for reminding me.)

I am a Feminist
revolutionary
on the front line.
this concrete cottage
in the declining hood,
this living room
strewn with baby and toys,
is headquarters
for the movement
toward my ultimate
liberation.

My daughter wakes me
at 4.30 am
I give her
my breast
in the darkness
my fingers smelling
like onions,
she nurses,
looking me
in the eye,
asking, how will we
proceed today,
mother?

coffee for me
when you go back
to sleep,
I tell her
in whispers,
and a poem
a new verse
for the battle hymn
of the republic
of motherhood
free from poverty,
the empty pocket,
the blood-sucked soul.

barney and friends,
moose a. moose,
dora the explorer,
they are our closest
allies
when the sun
cuts open the sky
with his yellow
knife
revealing
our position.
our alliance
is crucial
to the success
of the resistance.
she smiles,
she screams,
she stares,
asking, can you
show me, mother,
how happiness
looks?

our joy
taken in
the enormity
of the miniscule
is the heart
of the struggle,
pumping
fresh blood
to my hands
lifting her
to the window,
to my voice
saying,
look Pyper,
you’re flying!
to her soul
growing here
in beautiful defiance.

I poke the yellow caterpillar
in the belly,
she sings Vivaldi’s Spring.
my girl chews
on her yellow head
with skyward eyes.
when she sleeps
I will write and call it victory.
I will guard her bed and call it peace.

Bloggers Unite for Human Rights

2009-07-16T12:42:00.000-07:00

Today I'm happily joining Bloggers Unite and writing to promote human rights for all people of the world. I dedicate this poem to the cause, and to all women and children at risk especially, and offer it too in celebration of the global women's movement uprising everywhere in this new age, for the good of us all.

For the Power

i write for the power
that is, the authority
to shape
and color
and guide
my own life
my own name
my own meaning
and purpose
in this world
in this house
in this body
in this mind
that is a room
with an open door.

yes, that’s right,
I said power,
that is, the freedom
to choose
the road
the coastline
the interior
of blue holes
and old trees
the windy bluffs
and mangrove wastelands
of the country
of my story
my experience
that so many
have tried and failed
to poison.

this verse is
my liberation
into life
alive
inside
the tale
of me
my lucid dream
of being
hard
as three nails,
unwavering
as the mountain
I stand on,
power, I tell you,
stolen
or given away
returns
like blood transfused
like breath
to the drowning woman
rising
to the surface
one last time
in the writing
of one
true
poem.

Yes, We Can.

2009-07-14T18:52:00.000-07:00

Many thanks to Helen Klonaris and the Bahamas Summer Writers Institute for including me in their discussion last night on the topic of blogging. The event got me thinking again about the enormous potential there is in blogging, and in blogging as citizen journalism especially, for making a real difference in the world. I've been remembering what drew me in and inspired me so about writing and publishing on the Web. Beside the fact that it gave me a global forum for my writing after a lifetime spent cast away and disconnected on the island, I was taken by the idea of the blog being a source of free flowing, woman-centered news, information and commentary in these days of elitist, media conglomerates, censorship, conformity and silence of the mainstream press with regard to women's issues. I was changed forever to think that I could write and publish blogs that would contribute to this new source of information, and that with a blog I could bypass all the afore mentioned obstacles and be heard. All these years later I'm still in love with the personal freedom and empowerment that writing and publishing blogs affords me, as a writer, as a citizen of the Caribbean and as a woman in the world. I'm still a believer in the power of the blogosphere to promote equality, justice and liberty for women and children. To this end I have joined up with the folks at Bloggers Unite, a community that attempts to "harness the power of the blogosphere to make the world a better place." Members ask bloggers to write on a particular day about an event or cause chosen or created in the hope that "a single voice can be joined with thousands to make a difference." On Friday, July 17, bloggers unite for human rights and I'll be joining them, gratefully, and hopefully. On Wednesday, August 26, I've promised to blog for Women's Equality Day. I invite all my blogging friends to join us. We can change this world. Yes, we can.

It Shows

2009-06-23T21:56:00.000-07:00

The city of Nassau looks like hell. It looks as bad as we feel. The center of town is full of abandoned, derelict buildings, entire streets are in ruins. A sickening pall hangs over Bay Street, the old marketplace is a barren lot behind chain link. Potter's Cay is a reeking, ugly health hazard. Inland, poverty and willful neglect combine to crumble the walls and pile garbage on the sidewalks. Past that, hundreds of acres of pine forest have fallen to the developers' big machines and desolation is everywhere. When I see our thirteen year old son looking out of the car window at his hometown, watch his spirit sadden and shrink as he looks out at the shabby, dirty streets, my heart breaks, desperation begins to rise inside me. I am thinking, "This is my responsibility. This is my town, the home I have given him. Why is it like this? What can I do?" I think of my new baby daughter, how perfect and beautiful she is. I don't want to be ashamed to show her her hometown, I don't want to tell her, "That's just the way it is in the Caribbean once you get past the hotels." Or worse: "That's just Bahamian mentality." As if Bahamians were someone other than us. (This was my parents' explanation to me when I was a child.) Worst of all, I don't want to have to fall silent when she asks me what I ever did to make things better. I think about how the broken down appearance of Nassau is really a metaphor for all that is ailing her, it is the manifestation of our collective broken spirit. We the people are tired and it shows.

We have to rally.

We have to call on the government to crack down on the owners of all the abandoned buildings in the city and force them to restore them. We must restore and preserve the historic buildings that survive. We have to shut down the godawful mess under the bridge once and for all and put the fishmarket along the waterfront on East Bay Street. We must understand the connection between the rise of the mega hotel on Paradise Island and the decline of our quality of life as citizens on New Providence. We must forget about another gigantic straw market full of imported goods and instead plant that space with grass and trees, maybe a much smaller market with only truly native work. We need green parks so very desperately. We have to stop the deforestation, stop the destruction of the big trees. We must protect more coastline for Bahamians. As citizens we must all become more individually responsible for our properties, our neighbourhoods, our public spaces. We owe it to our children.

We have to restore Nassau so that we can restore ourselves.

Imagine

2009-06-21T18:39:00.000-07:00

Sometimes a woman Member of Parliament in the island patriarchy has to FREAK OUT and disrupt the House when presiding men are attempting to silence her because she is making a plea for justice on behalf of the mother of the teenaged boy hanged in a police station cell. Sometimes she is removed from the chambers by police, shouting to be heard, everyone around her in an uproar. "Tell the truth about a woman's life and the world splits open," Muriel Rukeyser said. MP Glynnis Hanna-Martin told the truth about a mother's grief and desire for justice in the death of her son. She couldn't think about the Budget, she couldn't think about anything but her chance to speak to the most powerful people in the land about this most urgent issue of excessive force by Bahamian police, (if I'm understanding the story correctly) to speak on behalf of all the grieving mothers who have lost their children under suspicious circumstances involving police in our country. This is a mother's issue, a woman's issue. Meaning that it is of serious, fundamental importance to all of us. Imagine if the all the women MPs from both sides had joined Mrs Hanna Martin on the floor of the House, locked arms with her as sisters, women united against violence, now that would have been a groovy sight, all of them being trooped out together, it would have been our generation's mace-out-the-window, a real, Age of Aquarius, Obama moment, it could have been a herstory-making moment in Caribbean politics, it could have signalled hope to all the grieving mothers that the women elected to the Bahamas Government really do care about stopping the violence.

The Revolution Continues

2009-06-19T08:00:00.000-07:00

"Where are the activists, where are the crusaders?" My friend, former journalist Marcia Reynoso asked. We are here. Bahamian Feminist writers like Marion Bethel, Helen Klonaris and Asha Rahming of the Bahamas are all writing and publishing the books they came here to write. Nicolette Bethel is writing and publishing good books too, and on the blogosphere she is a relentless voice for the Bahamian artist at home and in the Caribbean community. I have a new manuscript too, taking shape on the desk in front of me. I'll be reading from it at "Witness!", a poetry reading that is a part of the Bahamas Writers Summer Institute programme, along with Helen Klonaris and Obediah Smith, Saturday, July 25 at The Hub, Nassau. Poetry, Stories, they are so powerful, essential to the good revolution, writers are the small, troubled country's brightest and strongest hope. A call is out for submissions to the anthology of writing the Institute plans to publish and our country's most conscious and gifted voices will certainly be gathered up there. These are the places and spaces where the revolution continues, where excellent writing and social consciousness are webbed together, where the personal becomes the political, the political the personal. Where our voices are freer and stronger and more transformative than ever before.

I Pray the Authorities are Telling Us the Truth

2009-06-11T18:57:00.000-07:00

Reports are that the deceased Nassau baby did not die of traumatic injuries from rape, but instead of a respiratory illness and an allergic reaction to medication given to her to treat it. I hope to God that this is true. Of course, I am suspicious, this is the Bahamas after all, where rape is epidemic, but I pray the authorities are telling us the truth. If they are, and the parents are indeed innocent, then my heart goes out to them for their loss. In the meantime our community needs to continue now to talk about what we will do about saving the many children of our country who are in fact victims of sexual violence.

No More Impunity in The Bahamas for Perpetrators of Violent Crimes Against Women and Children

2009-06-09T18:30:00.000-07:00

There was no news of an arrest today in the death of the baby girl. The Nassau Guardian seems to be reporting that the parents are no longer being questioned? Is this correct? Have they been released? I plan on calling the Commissioner of Police tomorrow to find out, and I'll report it here. There needs to be real public outcry, there needs to be a hail of urgent voices rising up from the people, in the name of this child, demanding an end to this long and terrible war, beginning with the arrest of the person responsible for this crime. Somewhere on the island of New Providence there is an entire neighbourhood full of people who know exactly who did this. Let them all come forward, let them all break their silences, let them tell the police what they know. Let there be no more impunity in the Bahamas for those who commit violent crimes against children and women.

So Sad, So Angry

2009-06-08T18:25:00.000-07:00

Bahamian women and children are fighting for their lives in a terrible ongoing war that mainstream culture calls domestic violence. Tonight the wakeful and mindful among us are grieving for the baby who has died, the victim of a crime so heinous, so unthinkable, we can hardly comprehend it. What kind of monster is this, apparently capable of raping and killing a baby? This is the worst kind of violent criminal there is, one who must be removed from society forever.

Where is the public outrage? Where are all the Good Christians, so quick to form lynch mobs for the queer cruise ships, where are the newspaper pastors and preachers now? Where are the editors' voices expressing our outrage, our collective grief and mourning, our demands for justice, and for a Bahamian goverment that at last takes real and serious steps toward stopping violence against women and children? Where are we, the grassroots movement of ordinary people organizing, speaking out for an end to this war, lining up at the police station turning in the known perpetrators who live with impunity among us?

The sub-human responsible for this baby's death must be brought to justice. The mother who failed to protect her should also be held responsible. And let us demand that the judge refuse bail, too many of these vile criminals are given bail by judges who don't understand or don't care that violence against women and children is the most grievous problem facing our country today.

I am so sad, so angry at our collective failure to protect this child and all the others in peril. The children of the Bahamas are crying out for our help, what will we do?

Midnight approaches on her dark horse.
I cannot sleep.
I want to write a poem
That actually changes the world
But all I can come up with
Is this one
That I made
Out of sadness
For the baby that died.

I want justice
And honestly,
At this dark moment,
Not necessarily
The restorative kind.
I say, burn him
At the stake!
And weep over these words
For the baby that died.

International Women's Day on March 8

2009-03-16T13:01:00.000-07:00

How could I have missed International Women's Day on March 8? I was with the baby, nursing, changing diapers, sleeping or trying to sleep, this is the nature of my personal womanish/feminist revolution at the moment. Its easy to forget what day it is, where the moon is, what my name is... Baby is Everything.

But it is not too late to pay tribute to the women of the world, so I do it now with this handfull of words. And since mothering is my focus now I'm writing especially to acknowledge mothers, and especially those who are most at risk globally, because of poverty, war and victimization, who against the odds

survive
thrive
and keep their children alive

because being women they are so very strong, so very resourceful, so very imaginative and creative and visionary and revolutionary, because being women we know, this new age belongs to us, we know we are the co-creators of an emerging new world where the lives we live are honoured, respected and valued once more, and forever.

When Will a Bahamian Government Say NO to Violence Against Women?

2009-02-19T10:47:00.000-08:00

Today I’m thinking about UNIFEM’s Say NO to Violence Against Women Campaign. As of this moment 5,066,549 signatures have been collected, demonstrating there is a global movement of people who demand that ending violence against women be a top priority for governments everywhere. At the time of this writing the Government of the Bahamas does not appear on the list of world government supporters of the movement.

I’m grateful that I had the privilege of adding my signature. One in three women on this side of the world will experience violence in her lifetime. As I write I think about our new baby daughter. She cannot speak, so I am asking on her behalf. I ask the Prime Minister, the Cabinet, the Opposition, the Senate: Will none of you take a stand for the mothers, sisters, wives and daughters who are crying out for justice? Why is it that this administration is yet another that fiddles while women burn? When will the woman’s right to live a life free of violence ever be top priority for a Bahamian government?

When we demand it.

And Still They Serve

2009-02-10T07:34:00.000-08:00

To mark A Day of Absense on February 11 I interviewed the creator of this day of remembrance and protest in honour of culture workers in the Bahamas and the world, old friend Dr Nicolette Bethel. I wanted a clearer understanding of the true state of cultural affairs in this country from her perspective, having just completed five years of service as Director of Culture. The problems, obstacles, complications and inadequacies she faced were multitudinous yet she and her noble, self-sacrificing staff rose to the challenges, putting on five National Arts Festivals and sending contingents to two Carifesta Arts Festivals during her service. Its a long interiew but I urge you to read to the end where Nicolette speaks about the hard work and dedication of the culture workers on staff at Cultural Affairs who keep on keeping on in spite of too much red tape, not enough money, as well as unfairly bearing the brunt of the public's blame for what may be lacking. I'm especially grateful for the way Nicolette sets the record straight regarding their service to the Bahamian people. They are the folks we especially need to be grateful for on the Day of Absense.

Womanish Words: How much money was allocated in the budget for cultural affairs in 2008? (And how much was actually given?)

Nicolette Bethel: This is a complicated answer. Over the five years I served as Director the amount grew in monetary terms. What is more, the way in which government spending is managed is such that the ability of the Cultural Affairs Division to spend the money allocated was limited. And we were limited in the ways in which we could spend the money as well (the kind of money we were given was limited to a certain category of spending). So let me answer you in several ways.

a) The budgetary allocation, which took the form of a single line item under Recurrent Expenditure, for 2008-2009 (budget years go from July-June of each year) was $2.026 million dollars ($2,026,000.00). This does not include salaries.

b) This was $500,000.00 more than I had the year before, when the budgetary allocation was roughly $1.7 million dollars, and this was $500,000 more than the year before that, when the budgetary allocation was roughly $1.2 million dollars.

c) The increase in half-million increments can be said to occur because of actual expenditure. The odd thing about government funding is that, no matter what the theory is, in fact the real way in which you get increased funding is if you overspend your budget allocation. In most circumstances people in culture cannot get permission to do that; however, there are some things on which some civil servants and politicians will agree to increase spending. These are Junkanoo; the National Arts Festival; and CARIFESTA. The increase in half-million increments is primarily the result of our having attended CARIFESTA in 2006 and 2008, and represents the cost of those trips.

WW: In a perfect world what is the amount you want allocated and what should we create with it? (Dream big!) (And what do you think would your dad want created?)

NB: Lynn, I can’t even imagine a perfect world. Let me just say that in 1986 when the UNESCO report on Bahamian cultural development was submitted to my father, the recommended allocation of monies to culture and cultural development was $5 million dollars. That was twenty-two years ago, and it was the result of an in-depth, standardized review of cultural needs in the country.

Given the fact that such development did not occur, I’m going to put forth a number that would be realistic to run the Cultural Affairs Division and to maintain ONLY the programmes that currently exist at a level that would make a difference. These programmes are Junkanoo (throughout the entire Bahamas), Junior Junkanoo (throughout the entire Bahamas), the E. Clement Bethel National Arts Festival, the National Junkanoo Museum, the National Dance School, and the so-called National Centre for the Performing Arts, and the establishment and staffing of a CARIFESTA Secretariat (this WOULD NOT INCLUDE the cost of CARIFESTA or of capital expenditure to prepare for CARIFESTA or investment in the current cultural industries or creating, staffing and maintaining training institutions or granting programmes). The realistic figure for what we are expected to do would be closer to $9.5 million. This would include roughly $2 million in salaries.

WW: I'm imagining A Day of Absense growing into a grassroots movement among artists and cultural workers where we organize and pledge to only vote for candidates who make serious funding for the Arts a major part of their platform. What do you think?

NB: Absolutely. That is the idea. Stealing shamelessly from Obama, of course. I would go a step further, and establish an Artists’ Foundation to begin the process of putting our vision into place, and beginning a fundraising drive of concerts, etc, that can raise awareness and raise money for our cause.

WW: What kind of response are you receiving re the Day of Absense?

NB: Good. I half-expected the kind of response the idea is getting, but I didn’t really know how many people would be willing to go on the record/out on a limb to make their support public. I deliberately didn’t want to organize something too radical or one-dimensional because I think it’s important for people to be able to show solidarity with the cause in a myriad different ways. Blogging and calling in to talk shows and writing stuff and getting press coverage are good ways to begin. The other ways involve everything from true behind-the-scenes activity (one person I know is taking a personal day in honour of his cultural commitment) to real in-your-face activity (there’s talk of a demonstration in Rawson Square, but I don’t know whether it’ll come off). And in the meantime, between Days of Absence, we need to do some concrete work together. Like completing the Cultural Policy and reviewing the draft legislation that the government has been playing with for far too long. Like conducting surveys and doing serious research into cultural activity in The Bahamas and publishing the results. Like working hard to document and educate the public so we can get a swell of support.

WW: Now that you are no longer in government service what is the one thing you want to say now that you couldn't have said during your time as Director? (be outrageous!)

NB: You know, there isn’t much I didn’t say – though I said it behind closed doors, to any official who would listen. What I would do, though, is educate the public on the obstacles that I encountered in my attempts to make a difference in cultural development and cultural activity. The vast majority of the population have no idea how the governmental system works, or what difficulties agencies have in making things happen. Since I left, I have run into many people who bitterly castigate “the government” and “cultural affairs” (or the Ministry of Culture, or whatever title they decide to allocate to that arm of government in which I held the title of “Director”) without having the first clue about what can and cannot be done in the government service.

The basic information that I would provide would be:

a) There is no such thing as a Ministry of Culture or a Department of Culture in the Bahamas government. Those are fancy titles for something that does not exist. This is what does exist: a Cultural Affairs Division, which consists only of technical and clerical officers, headed by a Director. In the government structure, a Division is one of the lowest things that can exist (the only things lower are Units, Sections, and Desks). Divisions, Units and Desks cannot operate without the administrative structure of a larger entity. Normally this entity is a Ministry. Divisions are constellations of experts in a particular field who work together to design, recommend and implement programmes. The support staff attached to Divisions are usually very junior, and serve in minor clerical and other areas. However, the only staff attached to Divisions that can be considered inseparable from the Divisions are the so-called technical staff – people whose qualifications or job titles tie them to the area of government where they are located, and who cannot easily be moved from section or section of government. Divisions do not have the following: separate administration of human resources; separate accounting; separate registries/filing systems; separate supplies and procurement; the ability to seek or be awarded capital development; the ability to seek or be awarded human resources; the ability to promote or discipline employees; the ability to approve expenditure, even of budgeted funds; or even, apparently, the ability to maintain and operate petty cash. Divisions certainly do not have the ability to collect or spend government revenue. Nothing can occur within a Division in the absence of approval from a Permanent Secretary or the Cabinet of The Bahamas.

b) All decisions about budgets, staffing, and even deployment of non-technical personnel are made beyond the Division. The only thing the Director of Culture can do is make recommendations. Staffing (hires, fires, disciplinary measures, promotions, etc) are dealt with first by the Human Resources Department of whatever Ministry is in charge of the Division and then by the Ministry of Public Personnel. Budgets are dealt with first by the Accounts Division of the Ministry, but must be approved in the next instance by the Permanent Secretary (the CFO of any Ministry), and then in the final instance by the Ministry of Finance. The only way I have seen our budget increase was by (a) a Minister making a petition to the Minister of Finance and (b) overspending our allocation and having to seek supplementary funding (2006-2007, 2007-2008). However, the latter can also give you a bad name in the government service, so it’s a double edged sword.

c) The Director of Culture (technical name: Director of Cultural Affairs) has no authority whatsoever within the Government service, though the position bears a number of responsibilities. As the most senior technical official in the government on culture (everyone else is a representative – Ministers are political officials and cannot make things happen in the civil service without the written approval of senior civil servants), the Director of Culture represents the country internationally in areas relating to culture, and is responsible for the development of policy. But the Director of Culture cannot get that policy implemented, which is a political process. All the Director can do is submit reports to Permanent Secretaries and Ministers in the hopes of getting them approved.

d) The so-called Department of Culture has a shrinking staff (there are officers to cover music, drama and art only). Only music has any hope of being adequately covered. The Drama officer is overworked and under-rewarded, having reached the top of her scale and being ineligible for any further promotions (the fault of the system, which has no higher posts than Senior Cultural Affairs Officer, not of hers. She runs the entire National Arts Festival by herself. The Department was without a visual arts officer for four years and the only one we have had to be transferred in from Education (and may be called back). There is no one to cover drama adequately, or to address film, literature, or the folk arts. Dance might be considered to be addressed by the two teachers and the one manager of the National Dance School, but I don’t think so. Junkanoo has a lot of people working in its unit, but not one of them is adequately compensated. There is no one to oversee grants, or policy development (other than the director), or training, or public relations, or education, or publications, or any myriad other things Culture should be doing but can’t.

e) The salaries in the Department cannot attract young, vibrant, talented and qualified persons. The highest salary in culture (the top of the scale that is awarded to the Director) is $2000 p.a. less than I am currently making as an assistant professor. The salaries in Cultural Affairs are not even on par with other cultural workers in government, such as those people working for the National Art Gallery or the Antiquities, Monuments and Museums Corporation, or the Archives, whose equivalent posts earn up to $6,500 more per annum than cultural affairs employees. They cannot even begin to match what is available in the private sector, or even at COB; my salary at COB, as an assistant professor towards the lower middle end of my scale, is more than I could ever have made as Director. No credit is given for a PhD (I was never paid for mine). Seniority in the Service is calculated on salary, not on qualifications, expertise, or experience. Merit is rarely rewarded; it appeared more likely for mediocrity to earn people promotions. Because seniority is calculated on one’s salary scale (the higher the scale, the more senior the employee), the Directors of the Archives, Antiquities, and the Art Gallery, whose salaries fell into scales with grades above mine, were all technically my seniors, as were almost every other Director in the service and even some Deputy Directors as well. Every senior administrative officer (from Under Secretaries on up) were technically my seniors. I would have maxed out my salary by the age of 47, and would conceivably remained in the same position, with no increments, for up to 18 years thereafter — and this for no tangible recognition, reward, or lasting achievement.

f) There is nowhere for cultural workers to move. Even with stellar performances, there is no cultural career path. A senior cultural affairs officer has no higher office available to him or her, with the result that people like Pat Bazard and Keva Cartwright have been at the top of their scales (getting no increment) for far far more than the 5 years that outrages the union. Eddison Dames has not been given an increment for more than 20 years. Vola Francis is making no more than an untrained, junior teacher in Education because his experience in junkanoo is not considered valid as a qualification for promotion or reclassification. There is no recognition of cultural qualifications or experience; the only qualifications accepted are academic and largely obsolete, with the result that these persons cannot even be reclassified to receive their just reward.

g) There is no building for succession in the department. The average age of the department is about 50, with a very top-heavy staff – 5 of the 8 officers and administrators in the Division will be retiring within 10 years, with 3 of them going in 5. Though there are three young officers, there is no guarantee that any of them will stay with the department long enough to be able to take over the programmes that are being run by these officers – Junkanoo, Junior Junkanoo, and the National Arts Festival. In 5 years’ time, therefore, there will be no staff in the Division to run major national programmes.

h) Culture has no permanent office space. Everything is borrowed or rented. The buildings that are attached to culture (Junkanoo Museum and Shirley Street Theatre) are rundown and poorly staffed because there is no budget to attend to them, and no personnel who is trained to operate them.

i) Culture has no permanent portfolio assignment. The politicians who make the decisions have no good idea where to put it. So Culture has been attached to: Youth and Sports, Education, Public Personnel, Labour, and the Office of the Prime Minister – to name but a few places.

j) In the 5 years I was Director, the Department’s portfolio was reassigned 4 times – from Youth, Sports and Culture to Office of the Prime Minister, from OPM to Education, Youth, Sports and Culture, from Education to Youth, Sports and Culture.

k) In the same 5 years, the Department moved physically 3 times – and if you count the fact that I took up my appointment on the day after the Department had moved, that could be considered 4 times.

l) With each move, something is lost. In every case, the department lost capital, supplies, personnel and office space (except for the move post-election, when we gained personnel. But most of those have since been reassigned).

m) And yet, Lynn, the people who work for culture, the technical officers, continue to go to work day in, day out, are often the last people to leave their offices, work on the weekends and on holidays and give up their Christmases and New Years and Independences and almost every other public holiday — not to party but to work. They get up when it’s still dark to catch flights to the Family Islands for adjudications, come back after a full day’s work, go home, sleep, turn round and do it again the next day, with no compensation for their parking fees at the airport or for the gas they burn on their journey to and from the airport and often not enough money to meet all their expenses. They go into their own pockets to get the job done, work at all hours of the night, give their all to their jobs (because they love what they do and they believe in their calling) and do not complain, with the result that nothing has happened for them. Most of them do not qualify for overtime. Most of them have had applications for honoraria for their service above and beyond the call of duty turned down again and again. All of them have been denied promotion again and again and again. They are denied promotion in the face of annual evaluations and recommendations by people who are convinced that what they are doing is worth nothing.

I do not know who these people are who refuse to recognize the work of our cultural officers. I only know that every time we moved to a new agency I had to fight the same prejudices — that my officers were lazy, that they slacked off, that they produced no work, that they were just taking up space. This is in the government service where the norm is to produce nothing at all and get promoted for it — mostly because you complained loudly enough. My officers rarely complained; they just got on with the work. Nothing happened in the five years I was there — five years of both brands of government — just as nothing had happened for them the ten, twenty, thirty-plus years before my time of their faithful service to their country.

And still they serve.

It is in large part their dedication that inspired me to come up with Day of Absence. I have worked with them and I have seen them work. No one can criticize those officers until they have worked with them and watched them deliver. The way they were treated drove home to me the profundity of the contempt we Bahamians hold for culture and cultural workers. The idea came to me back in July 2008 after the fourth annual refusal to recognize the work that they had done, to build into the budget room for promotions, or even to consider a new method of promoting people based on their experience and expertise as well as their academic achievement. Day of Absence is as much for them as for anyone else.

The Age of Aquarius

2009-02-09T15:09:00.000-08:00

“When the moon
is in the seventh house
and Jupiter
aligns with mars,
then peace
will guide the planet
and love
will steer the stars –
this is the dawning
of the age of Aquarius,
the Age of Aquarius.
Harmony and understanding,
sympathy and trust abounding.
No more falsehoods or derisions.
Golden living dreams of visions,
Mystic, crystal revelation
And the mind’s true liberation,
Aquarius!”
JEROME RAGNI AND GALT MACDERMOT

Sista Helen Klonaris over in Oakland sent me a link to care2.com where I learned some fascinating news. Just as the iconic song above prophesied forty years ago this fantastic cosmic event will actually occur in the dawn hours of February 14, and the actual Age of Aquarius will be dawning for real.

According to the author, in the early morning hours of Valentine’s Day, “the Moon in Libra enters the seventh house of relationships. And Jupiter and Mars are aligned in Aquarius in the twelfth house of spiritual transformation.” The cosmos will actually embody this perfect alignment she says, “to support our collective manifestation of love and peace and the dawning of the Age of Aquarius.”

In the year 1962 a near-identical alignment occurred and probably inspired songwriters Ragni and Macdermot to write their beautiful lead song for their smash hit musical Hair, but for that event the Moon was not in the seventh house as she will be this time. That was the first inkling of the coming new age now “ready to mature.”

At exactly 7.25 am on the 14th the planets align and for the eighteen minutes of the alignment I’ll be joining the universal heart and adding my own intention for love and peace, co-creating the dawning of the Age of Aquarius and helping to energize a wave this intention that will surge around the Earth, changing everything.

Love and peace to all.

A Day of Absense

2009-02-03T10:17:00.000-08:00

What if we woke up in the Bahamas one morning to find all our artists were gone? Over at her blog Nicolette Bethel is asking us to consider what that day might be like on February 11, "A Day of Absense," commemmorating her late father's birthday. She's making the call in an act of protest against decades of continuous governmental neglect of artists and cultural affairs in our country. I've pledged to join her in this action. It is not hard to imagine such a scenario here. In fact I wonder if like global warming, it is already happening around us right now, if only we'd open our eyes and see. If only we'd take action.

One Million Trees

2009-01-23T14:21:00.000-08:00

Today I joined the Bahamas Million Tree Campaign. This campaign seeks to plant one million new trees across the Bahamas by October, 2009. This local effort is part of the major worldwide tree planting campaign of the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP), “Plant for the Planet: Billion Tree Campaign”, with the objective of planting at least one billion trees worldwide each year. In a call to further individual and collective action, UNEP has set a new goal of planting seven billion new trees worldwide by the end of 2009.

It all started in 1993 when the Bahamas became party to the United Nations Convention on Biological Diversity, adopted in 1992 as part of the Rio Summit to promote sustainable development globally. The biodiversity sub-committee, the BEST Commission, was formed in an effort to enable the Bahamas to meet its commitment to the UN Convention. It aims to organize the country to meet with the CBD’s target of reducing the current rate of biodiversity loss significantly by 2010. In other words, they're working to get the public to understand that we must stop cutting down all our trees. Stop cutting them down, begin planting them up again, because our very lives depend on them.

One million new trees planted in the Bahamas by October. Its an ambitious goal, and the most worthwhile always are. This is a cause I am excited to support. I signed up at their website and pledged to plant thirteen new trees in the yard this year, Gumemale mostly.

The committee is urging us to be careful to plant indigenous trees and not any of the invasive, alien species which contribute to high rates of biodiversity loss. Do plant Horseflesh, Black Ebony, Candlewood, Yellow Elder, Bay cedar; do not plant Brazillian Pepper, Casurina or Monkey Tamarind.

I’m asking friends and readers to support this green movement trying to take root in the Bahamas, by pledging your support to the Bahamas Million Tree Campaign, by planting trees in their own yards and by donating them to schools, parks and playgrounds. You all know why. You know that trees moderate our climate, improve air qualitynand harbor wildlife. Trees absorb carbon dioxide and release oxygen. They shade our homes reducing energy demands for cooling. They conserve water and reduce soil erosion. And, they provide food. Our human lives are unsustainable without them.

But we love and need trees for other good reasons too. Womanish poets, writers and other Creatives especially need to live among the trees. There is a strong, mystical connection between us and trees. We can hear the heart beating inside each one, we can see the spirits of the Ancestors among the green branches, we are restored, renewed and re-invigorated in the forest as much as we are when we fall into the warm, green sea. We islanders, the New Lucayans, we are responsible to now take action to protect and regrow our sacred forests, one tree at a time. I really believe that so much despair in our struggling communities right now is directly because of the wanton destruction of our trees. I really believe too that if we organize and work together in the Million Tree Campaign and other green projets we can cast one serious widdershins spell and begin to restore our islands again, and restore ourselves in the doing.

Its a good year to be like Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Wangari Mathai, to understand the connection between the forest and our own good lives, a good year to plant trees.

A Brother Running the Free World

2009-01-20T08:09:00.000-08:00

American President Barack Obama was inaugurated minutes ago and Pyper and I shared the moment together with all the rest of the world. He spoke to us in conversational tones about the difficult times we are all now living in, his empathy was palpable, his truthfulness sobering. He reminded us that it is the way in which we respond in times of great trouble that defines the character of a people. I am thrilled to have witnessed his address, grateful for the blessed optimism his achievement is inspiring in us all. I will always remember that my baby daughter was at my breast when he took the oath and the new era began.

Power to the Free Voice

2009-01-19T08:09:00.000-08:00

I spend time this morning reading the cyber-activism pages of Global Voices Online. I am looking for connection with the global community of citizen journalist activists writing and protesting and organizing and speaking out for all our good via the Web. The first story I see is out of Western Europe, written by Asteris Masouras: “Greece: Outcry over arms shipment to Israel.” The story reports that with the war raging in Gaza, news reports earlier this month about the routing of an extraordinary large shipment of arms from the United States to Israel through the private Greek Port of Astakos caused an uproar among Greek bloggers. They used Twitter to investigate the matter and put pressure on the government to halt the transfer. Apparently the government has indeed halted the transfer. I love this story. I love how the bloggers are in full ownership of their powerful voices, and the power of the citizen journalist network. As I write I think about the women and children of Gaza, the candle burning is for them. All actions for peace are for them.

Pyper Delilah Graham is Born

2009-01-18T12:47:00.000-08:00

I want the world to know: Our beautiful baby daughter Pyper Delilah has arrived safely into our lives. She was born on the thirteenth of January, according to divine plan, in beautiful perfection, much to our deep gratitude and joy.

Like Angels

2008-12-05T07:37:00.000-08:00

Suddenly, a choir. Singing Deck the Halls. Outside the dark living room window. And sistas, I mean, singing so beautifully. A choir that would have made Clement Bethel and Pauline Glasby proud. I would have loved any carolers, the raw-boned, hollering kind I would have gratefully welcomed in these hard times. Any group of folks generous of spirit so, creative and cooperative and connected so, having spirit enough to gather themselves together and go sing-up Christmas for strangers, I have to love them. Especially now, when money is tight, and fundamentalism is dividing the neighbourhoods with hatred, and all are on guard against violent crime. We opened the door, lit a torch, gave a donation. They were all wearing Santa hats. They sounded like a choir out of Dickens. Perfect harmonies, soaring tenors. Our son asked, "Are they singing for us?" Yes, they were singing for us. We were the only household on the street that opened the door, not one of the neighbours turned on their lights, come out to receive this rare gift of a classical Christmas choir on the doorstep, none came out to give to a Christmas fund for the poor, none were inspired to take some enjoyment, sing along, offer a cup of tea... Fear will do this to people. As for me, I thought it was a cosmic moment, a sign and a wonder, a message from the World of Spirit. Saying quite literally, go ahead and deck the halls, try Be Happy, celebrate, give. Do this to actively resist the fear, to transform it into something like good living. Then, the choir was gone, quick as a vision, leaving us feeling a litle stunned, a little altered. That was two nights ago, and I am still wondering about the choir. Who were they, what church did they say they belonged to? I cannot remember, and I want to. I want to invite them to return and sing for us again on Solstice night. Strange, the way they appeared and disappeared so suddenly, like angels...

Bahama Parrots Sighted on New Providence Island

2008-11-13T05:50:00.000-08:00

At the time of this writing I hear a wonderful sound. It's the raucous cries of wild Bahama Parrots in my Avocado tree. Real, honest-to-the-Goddess, wild parrots, the ones that are highly endangered and for all my life have only existed in small, potected numbers in the Abaco National Park, and in smaller numbers in Great Inagua - and nowhere else in the world.

But by some miracle there is now at least one flock of these beautiful, rare birds alive and well on New Providence, perhaps two. Sources tell me that the National Trust has known about their presence here for about a year but has chosen to make no public announcements that might bring unwanted attention and perhaps endanger them more than they already are. I'm told that the birds have apparently managed to successfully breed here in these past months.

To me, Bahama Parrots in my back yard is nothing short of a miracle, a sign of great success for all who are working to save these rare, beautiful birds.

The Abaco Bahama Amazon (A. leucocephala bahamensis) is a subspecies of the Cuban Amazon. They have dark green feathers, a white crown and upper cheeks, rose red throat, red sholders and outer wing feathers that are tinged in blue. It onced lived in tremendous numbers in Abaco, New Providence, San Salvador, Long Island, Crooked Island, Acklins and Great Inagua. Their numbers declined because of habitat loss, hunting and capture for pets Today the Bahama Parrot is protected by The Bahamian Wild Bird Protection Act of 1952 and by the Covention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild fauna and Flora (CITES). In 1994 the Bahamian government set aside 20,000 acres in south Abaco creating the Abaco National Park to help preserve the last of these beautiful birds.

The return of these lovely birds to New Providence island means to me that all our efforts to save the Bahama Parrot from extinction and to implement its recovery are proving successful. Personally, that I can now enjoy a morning coffee on the patio in the company of Bahama Parrots in the trees is a joy, a blessing, and reason for hope and enormous gratitude.

Hoorah!

2008-11-06T17:06:00.000-08:00

Hoorah for Barack Obama and for the American people. Hoorah for all people who are different from the status quo and dream of making their own contribution to the betterment of the world. Very cool to see that even the status quo itself woke up in vast numbers to vote for this man. Even better to see young people, first time voters and minorities claiming and reclaiming their electorate power and making their voices heard so clearly. People were TALKING to one another for this election, the internet apparently was crucial here, a powerful tool indeed for getting word out. I loved seeing TV journalists reporting on what was being said on the web when the returns were coming in. Wonderful to see the joyful emotion of the elders of the Civil Rights Movement who shed blood and buried friends and compatriots on their way to making Obama's election possible. And inspiring to see the shining faces of kids who see themselves reflected in his face.

Ray of Light

2008-11-02T15:36:00.000-08:00

Amazing days, America appears to be on the verge of electing a Black president. This is really a ray of light and hope for the world. Obama’s election will change everything. Change is good. I’m grateful to be here to witness it. This morning I was brought to tears by a video clip I saw on the Womanist Musings blog. It was of Seal, singing the fab Sam Cook song, Change is Gonna Come, with Obama speaking throughout. I was surprised to find myself shedding a flood of hot tears. O it does a woman’s heart good to hear him say, “Yes, we can change the world. We can, we can!” Emotion filled me up and flowed over. Strange. I grew up electing Black prime ministers. But there I was, keening for a good thirty three seconds at the thought of a new world leader who is actually a good man. And just to make it all the better, he's Black. He's a symbol of a new day dawning, a new generation emerging, a new era beginning. After the tears, I forced myself to remember that it's not over yet. In the last American election the Bad Guys stole the presidency away. Let the rightful man win this time, this is my meditation tonight.

Out of the Broom Closet in the Name of Religious Freedom and Tolerance

2008-10-30T09:32:00.000-07:00

Halloween, All Hallows Eve, Samhain (pronounced saw-win), Candle Night, Spirit Night, Feast of the Dead, Ancestor Night, Harvest Night, Harvest Home, this is the highest Holy Day for Wiccans, the modern day witches of the world, of which I am one. Yes, I am a witch, a Goddess Worshiper, my religion is Earth Religion. Yes, I am a witch, student of the Craft, complete with black hat and broom and I am right here celebrating the souls of all my beloved dead and honoring my ancestors with treasured rituals and family traditions like costuming, real jack o’ lanterns, lighting the torches and welcoming the trick or treating children, inviting friends over for wine and laying a special altar with photographs of my parents, grandparents and great grandparents where we’ll light candles and invite them to visit a while, being that on this night the veil between our world and the spirit world will have grown thin. Yes, I am a modern day witch, born and raised and carrying on still in the Caribbean and with this writing I’m coming out of the broom closet in this blog.

I'm publicly claiming my Wiccan/Pagan/Goddess worshipping religious traditions here today for numerous reasons, the first one being simply that I know of no other Caribbean woman blog writer who has done so, and someone must. Someone has to break the silence in my country and start the conversation. The one about the reality and validity of spiritual traditions other than Christian fundamentalism. The one about religious diversity, how it is essential for civilized society, for cultural enrichment and for visionary creativity. The one about tolerance for all people. The one about the importance of the open mind, the sense of humour, the wide view. And the conversation too about how religious fundamentalism can strangle the breath and blood right out of the writer, how it endangers the creative freedom and inspiration of all artists, and causes us to be fearful, silent and dreadfully boring. I long to hear these conversations being had among Caribbean writers and artists especially, because these are our greatest thinkers, responsible for our collective enlightenment, our communal awakening to the rightful presence among us of people who are different.

I'm writing too in a small act of resistance against that evil woman who approachd my twelve year old son in the checkout line at the store where he stood waiting to pay for a new witch's hat for me. She saw he had no parent and like a predator moved in. Pushing in front of him in the line she asked, "What are you going to be for Halloween?" "A pirate," he told her. Then she launched into her tirade: "My daughter is twenty one years old and I never allowed her to have Halloween. Halloween is not a god!" (I can tell immediately what fundamentalist sect she belongs to, but in the name of tolerance won't mention it here. My son was deeply offended. He talked all the way home about how stupid and mean it was for a mother to deny her child the joys of dress-up and trick or treating. He talked about the lies he's heard being told among kids at his otherwise very progressive school, the most prevalent one being that Halloween is the devil's birthday. He told me there is a move afoot among some parents at the school to ban all Halloween celebrations at the school. He talked about how sorry he's feeling for a sad friend whose mother will make her spend all of Halloween night at church. Wow. So terribly sad for her. And for others of us who are looked upon with suspiscion, fear and even hatred by loved ones who know nothing of the truth of my worldview or my customs, rituals and traditions. Why can't they love us in our truth, our wholeness? Why can't they love us when we come fully into our authentic selves? The Green Boy is now old enough to wonder about these things.

I claim the Wicca religion/world view right here, right now, as an act of resistance against anyone who would try to deny me the right to individual religious freedom.

But mostly, on this holiest of days, I declare my devotion to Wicca in gratitude for the friends, sistas and comrades in my life who love and support me, who do not recoil in ignorant terror when I tell them that yes, I worship the ancient Mother Goddess, that I believe that Earth is a living, conscious being, that I believe in the reality of the spirit world, and that on this night I'll be welcoming the spirits of the Ancestors into my home for communion, celebration, and a little smoked salmon and mulled wine, causing harm to none.

A blessed Samhain to you all.

When will Carbbean Governments Invest in Art and Culture?

2008-08-25T06:31:00.000-07:00

This morning I'm checking in at Nico's blog to see what's going on at Carifesta X and find she is reporting on the address by Derek Walcott. The Nobel Laureate's words cause my bones to hurt, so true-true are they. He criticizes all the governments of the Caribbean for spending our millions to cover the land with mega hotels but cannot find the money for theatres and museums. Nico's been writing for years about this too, how the Bahamas government of the day invests nothing in arts and culture, and how devastating this is to our collective consciousness, our spirit, and yes, our economy too. Now Walcott echoes her from Guyana and I wonder: Who will listen, who will take heed? My heart is with the Bahamian artists representing us at the festival, I'm grateful to them for continuing to conjure up the inspiration, vision and strength it takes to create in spite of continuing governmental neglect.

At Carifesta in Spirit

2008-08-24T12:55:00.000-07:00

Carifesta has begun without me. I was unable to make the trip for a number of reasons and must be content to be there in spirit with the Bahamas contingent and especially writers Helen Klonaris and Nicolette Bethel. My attendence wasn't meant to be but theirs was, I'm grateful they are representing us at this event.

As I read the initial reports on the blogs I am made to think again about the Bahamas government and its decision not to host this very same festival. If a country fraught with problems like Guyana can step up to the challenge and take on the hosting job, surely The Bahamas can too. Apparently we have agreed to host the festival in 2010. What steps have been taken to begin preparations here for Carifesta X1? What ground has been broken? If the fomer government did not properly prepare for the festival, how then is this government better preparing? Perhaps someone in mainstream journalism wll be inspired to ask, and to demand answers.

In the meantime, I'm staying connected via the lovely web, (how did we ever survive before it?), waiting for news of when our writers get to take the centerstage and make their voices (our voices) heard.

Bright blessings to all who are on this grand adventure.

Acknowledged and Included

2008-07-21T08:53:00.000-07:00

Hey sisters, if you're still paying attention to this neglected blog, thank you. Many thanks especially to the community of womanish (feminist) writers at the Womens Space blog at http://www.womensspace.org . Many thanks to Heart who first put Womanish Words on her blogroll a few years back. Heart’s connection has also led to this blog’s inclusion in a very cool ongoing web project the creators call the Carnival of Radical Feminists. These are mini web anthologies of the writings of radical feminist bloggers and the sixteenth one, now up at the blog Gorgon Poisons at http://www.allecto.wordpress.com . includes my poem Good Boots. In other worlds here I live there is no place for the poem, so its very affirming to see one of mine acknowleged and included in this collection of wise womens voices.

Speaking of being acknowleged and included, I've been invited to read poetry with the Bahamas contingent at Carifesta 10 in Guyana next month. I'm surprised at how happy and inspired the invitation has made me feel. I'm imagining how wonderful it will be to connect with the best creative minds and souls of today's Caribbean, and am now focusing all my attention on preparing for the readings, and the entire exprience. I've spoken aloud a wish to the universe, that I have a laptop to take with which to blog from the festival, and She always conspires for my benefit when I ask her, as she does for you as well.

Thank you all, my womanish community on the web.

Cheers and Jeers

2008-06-20T10:34:00.000-07:00

Cheers to our good neighbours across the way who have agreed to preserve the Poinciana trees bordering their recently cleared lot. Such a groove to come upon land owners who are willing to build among the trees as best they can, in these days of hyper-bulldozing. This is to publicly express gratitude to them on behalf of all of us who wish to protect the surviving flowering and shade trees of Village Road and across the island of New Providence.

Jeers to the landlord directly adjacent to them who cut down an enormous, blooming Poinciana by the roadside overhanging her apartments parking area because leaves were falling on the cars and besides, she needed that space to build a garbage container.

Just another day, speaking out for the right to Live Green in the Hood.

In hope.

Hatespeak Disguised as Journalism

2008-06-18T07:38:00.000-07:00

Against my better judgement I glance at the paper. Headlines say a brothel was busted. Immediately I see the sentence. The sentence that makes me howl and throw the paper to the ground. The one that enrages me and then reignites the desire to publish a new blog called Sour Grapes and therin report on the way women and women's issues are represented or not in the Bahamian media. In this story the "reporter" enrages me by remarking that the women arrested in this raid were "more concerned with their picture being printed rather than their impending deportation" .

What kind of mysogynistic, totally unprofessional, maybe even slanderous rubbish is this from a newspaper report?

Firstly, you're damn right the women were concerned that their photographs not be taken. Surely it is illegal to publish photographs of detainees at a police station at the time of their arrest. I don't recall any such photographs appearing in the papers of male detainees at the station. The first photographs we see of them are at court. Obviously this reporter threatened them with cameras, and how did he happen to be at the station at the time the women were brought in? Someone called him, I suspect, some male , uniformed conspirator wanting to add to the trauma and humiliation for the arrested women. I smell the stink of patriarchal collusion.

Secondly, what kind of judgemental tone is this for the reporter to be taking? His job is to convey free and clear information, not muddy up the report with his hyper moralistic opinion. We don't give a rat's tail about what he thinks about the attitude of the women, whether he thinks they were behaving appropriately or not. This is shameful abuse of his position as a journalist. And how can he speak of "impending deportation?" The women have not even been charged yet. The paper would not dare condemn a moneyed man in this way, but a poor women is everyone's scapegoat. This "reporter" in my opinion is guilty of infringing upon the human rights of these women.

Thirdly, instead of his nasty, lascivious reporting of one woman's tattooed buttocks this excuse for a journalist should have been getting the woman to drop the names she was threatening to drop regarding the men who frequented the brothel. (It sounds to me that she was implying that senior police officers were among the clientel.) Indeed, why were their no men arrested? You can't have a brothel without men. Who and where are the guilty men? Why didn't the "reporter" ask this question? He was obviously too busy enjoying the spectacle. Nothing the patriarchs like more than women in shackles.

Words From the Dark Mangroves

2008-06-11T11:57:00.000-07:00

“In a patriarchy, every act of aggression against a woman by a male in authority is calculated to control, to keep her in a place outside her imagination, in the hopes that she may forget how to get there. She may forget a place called ‘imagination exists at all. And without a way to get to her imagination, there will be no new ideas, and no agency with which to live them.”
HELEN KLONARIS
www.thegaulinwife.blogspot.com

Words from the Dark Mangroves

Imagine a homeland where all stay at home parents, mothers and fathers, looking after children, house and home, are paid for by the state, an elite corps of civil servants, acknowledged for their specialized expertise and paid a decent salary. Imagine a Bahamas blessedly rid of rape and violence against women by way of real legal and social reform led by the voices of the Grass Root Literati and the Cyber Dissidents and Citizen Journalists on the Web who amplified and documented the peaceful protests of many thousands of our people demanding the end to the violence. Imagine our government begins by building ninety nine new shelters and safehouses for the women and children at risk in our time. Imagine this little place rising from the patriarchal ashes into the new age of tolerance, of diversity, of equality, a Time when the greatest thinkers will lead us, not the greatest campaigners, when fundamentalist religions are gratefully faded into the past, when poor women in need of reproductive health services can easily get them, a time when accused murderers, rapists and child predators are never, ever granted bail. Imagine re-creating our society into one where restorative justice replaces execution, and the police and other armed forces are known to be brave, honorable and worthy of our gratitude and never again our fear. Imagine the transformation when we replant New Providence with big trees for shade and for fruit, imagine tax exemptions for property owners for every planted tree. Imagine a Bahamian society where no one of any sexual orientation is ever again killed or otherwise silenced because of who they love, a renewed, restored, invigorated society where environmental conservation is a guaranteed human right, when everyone of us is an organ doner, and everyone of us reads and adores a favorite homegrown poet. Imagine piety, conformity and hatespeach at the altar gone from the voices of women and men who are teachers of spirit, replaced now with inclusiveness, tolerance and views that are constantly widening. Imagine us by the many thousands changing into people no longer afraid , but wholly and completely empowered, this will be a time for embracing.

Amnesty International Report 08

2008-06-04T15:25:00.000-07:00

The new Amnesty International report reminds me that women’s rights are human rights and that human rights are in peril the world over. Governments are being challenged by Amnesty to apologize for six decades of human rights failure and recommit themselves to deliver concrete improvements.

“Injustice, inequality and impunity are the hallmarks of our world today,” and Amnesty press release said. “Governments must act now to close the yawning gap between promise and performance.”

Amnesty Intenational’s Report 2008, the organization’ annual global assessment of human rights, published on the 60th anniversary year of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, covers 150 countries including The Bahamas.

Regarding the issue of violence against women Amnesty reports that Latin American countries like Venezuela, Brazil and Mexico are all taking “important and innovative steps to stamp out violence against women and make gender equality a reality.” However the report states that most of those responsible globally for violence against women were not held to account, “reflecting a continuing lack of political will to address the problem” from country to country.

Research consistently revealed a lack of shelters providing appropriate protection, poor training of law enforcement officials in appropriate investigation techniques, including forensic examinations, and prosecution processes that did not address the needs of women for protection and ensure women’s rights and dignity were promoted. Those women who did manage to get their cases as far as prosecution often faced discriminatory attitudes from the criminal justice system and further intimidation from their abusers.

I was especially struck by the following information:

“Gender discrimination was often compounded by other forms of discrimination. If a woman is black, Indeginous, lesbian or poor, she will often face even greater barriers in getting justice. And if abusers know that they can beat, rape and kill women with impunity, then these abuses become both widespread and more entrenched. For example, Native American and Alaska Native women in the USA who experience sexual violence are regularly met with inaction or indifference. They also experience disproportionately high levels of rape and sexual violence, US Justice Department figures have indicated that American Indian and Alaska Native women are 2.5 times more likely to be raped or sexually assaulted than women in the USA in general. In Canada, government statistics demonstrate that indigenous women are five times more likely than other women to die from violence, highlighting the desperate need for a comprehensive national action plan to address the violence and protect Indigenous women from discrimination.”

(I’m compelled to ask Amnesty International to consider also the experiences of women with disabilities in these reports.)

But here is the biggest shocker of all:

"The Bahamas has the highest rate of reported rapes in the world, according to a joint report issued in March by the UN Office on Drugs and Crime and the Latin America and the Caribbean region of the World Bank."

This horrific fact means to me that our Bahamian goverment is the most failed of all the world's governments when it comes to stopping the violence.

Solidarity with the Millar's Creek Preservation Group

2008-04-29T09:18:00.000-07:00

Today at Nicolette Bethel’s blog she carries a press release from the Millar’s Creek Preservation Group’s chairman E. Emmanuel McKenzie that is shocking and alarming. He reports that his envirionmental group’s fundraiser event at Millar’s Creek Recreation Park was targeted on the night of April 19 by police who terrorized the 300 plus patrons with gunfire , violent interrogations and death threats, people who were unarmed and offering no resistance. At least one person was gun-butted by the policemen who were apparently seeking undocumented Haitian nationals. None of the men who carried out this raid wore uniforms. In fact, most of them wore masks, “the same kind the robbers wear,” Mr. McKenzie told me this morning by phone.

Policemen in masks? Gun butting? Show me your immigration papers or you’re dead? Guns drawn and leveled and fired at a community fundraiser with children present? And then, NO PUBLIC OFFICIALL RESPONSE WHATSOEVER TO EXPLAIN TO THE BAHAMIAN PUBLIC , NO STATEMENT AT ALL, NONE REGARDING AN INVESTIGATION, NONE REGARDING AN APOLOGY? The RBPF needs to knw that we the new and awakened public doesn’t sit by silently anymore when bad cops are allowed to run rampant, to violate our human rights in raids like this one. We must stand in solidarity with the people of Millar’s Creek and demand that for once the police and I dare say, the government at last step up and take serious and appropriate action to root out the bad cops in this organization. They must do it for the victims. They must do it for the public which has the right to a decent, lawful, civilized police force. They must do it for the sake of the good officers who are slandered and disgraced by this corruption of their proud uniform. They must do it for Mr. Mackenzie and the good people of this preservation group who are working together to save a piece of our vanishing green places.

This is the thing. Even if that event was packed to the rafters with illegals, a lawful, decent, humane immigration and police operation CANNOT BEGIN WITH MASKED GUNMAN FIRING SHOTS . When Mr. McKenzie saw them he thought they were being robbed by a gang of gun-carrying hoodlums. We are all in trouble when we cannot any longer tell the difference between the criminals and the police. The party-goers at the Millar’s Creek fundraiser know the horror of this first hand. All of them, Mr. McKenzie told me, are deeply traumatized, especially those legal and documented persons who were still locked up at the time of this conversation. Mr. McKenzie is asking: Who is responsible for the terror and trauma caused to these innocent people?

I call on other human rights activists to speak up in support of Mr. McKenzie and his group. Environmental groups also should express outrage that such violence would be perpetrated against a group that has worked tirelessly for the past two years to restore Millar’s Creek and make it the beautiful centerpiece of the Millar’s Creek Park, These dreams for the rebirth and transformation of their struggling neighbourhood have been shaken to the bone by this nightmare experience. Nonetheless, he told me: “I love my country and we will not give up.” In fact , there is another fundraiser planned for this Saturday night.

Readers, you can help by sending an email demanding an official response to the Millar's Creek Raid to www.royalbahamaspoliceforce.gov , attention, the Comissioner of Police.

Earth Day

2008-04-22T12:15:00.000-07:00

It is a silent Earth Day in this place.
In the neighbourhood even the dogs are quiet.
In the local newspapers no news of any official government response to Earth Day. No mention of it on the car radio.
This day for our Mother Earth is being entirely ignored in my homeland, just as International Women’s Day was officially ignored.

Out in the yard the old Mango tree is young again, wearing her shady hat of tiny white blossoms.
The fireplace is stacked with wood for the Summer Solstice.
An enormous black lizard walks the fresh grave of a fallen Ringed Neck Dove.
I put the sprinklers on to drench the baby Gumbo Limbo
And call it a national celebration.

Love to the Green Mother on this her day.