The five of us retired professionals are distressed when we hear some of our young entrepreneurs talk to the media, spout numbers, and seemingly know very little about their foundation, cornerstone-laying elders, mash up the English language and break down the international music barrier, collect a-bag-a-money and can’t even find middle C.

But we stop right now to pay respect to disciplined, first-class musicians who came through our doors to inspire day students and register relatives for private tuition when we had a school for exam resitters and adult education.

Charlie Chaplin registered himself in the evening school and one of his daughters in the day school. Garnet Silk quietly walked in and registered a younger brother and two cousins and left while students identified him but had to remain frozen in their seats. There was a big buzz when Richie Stephens walked in and two prefects accompanied him to the office. But one had beaten them to the door and with great excitement was saying his name: “Richie, what? Richie, who?” I echoed like a dumb-bell. I’d never heard the name before. The talented, courteous young man paid for private tuition for his brother and a cousin. Dean Fraser caused the big stir when he walked in to pick up his wife who worked as a secretary. They were both very young and responsible, and the students showed respect for his talent and made us, the administrators, pay attention to the talent coming through our door. Fraser talked with students and motivated them. Respect due to the above men in music.

Crime stats

But crime has been sitting comfortably here for many years and we noticed that every time questions were asked about checking it, big rolls of statistics were given, especially to the media. Every time there was a mass murder, a spokesperson came on air to reel off figures and say something to the effect of:

“We have arrested 10 suspects; eight have been granted bail and two bare-faced ones walked out. Intelligence tells us they are heading for the airport. Our men are on the ball to nab them. Our hard-working, alert officers have arrested a total of 2,000 suspects in 2001; 3,000 in 2002; and 4,000 in 2003. The force has to be commended for the number of arrests made and the suspects wait five to 10 years to be brought before the courts. Our statistics show: 200 suspects released on bail over Period M in Zone P, they committed 124 murders while on bail, and we can give you more figures we’ve collected up to 2017, which is our worst murder year to date — with 800 men, women and children losing their lives.”

Security Opposition watchdogs say: “We only had 2,000 murders in my time; now Goverment chalk up 2,002. We were better than they in dealing with other crimes; for our records show there were 5,000 cattle thieves; 3,000 men charged for praedial larceny; 3,000 housebreakers; 2,000 rapists; 2,000 victims.”

Statistics move us to tears, especially the ones relating to rape of women and missing children, and we pray crime would go away. Just turn on any local station and reporters shower us with crime figures.

If we really want to hear more statistics, get in touch with the public relations officers dealing with roads and works and accidents and deaths on the bad roads. Listen to the marketing agents of the three essential services and they’ll pack us with statistics and melt us to tears when they tell us the 1,000 miles of roads and water pipes they just laid down in Guinep Grove, and the 4,000 metres of electric and telephone wires they strung, only to have them moved by enterprising entrepreneurs by night.

The best-kept secret and record of all groups, however, is held by the lawyers, who literature terms ‘legal luminaries’. They keep time in their hands and, when pressured about delays and postponement, they give statistics. They tell the media of the 10,000 files, with 10,000 cases sitting in cobweb for more than 10 years, and 10,000 new cases crept upon their lordships, and they are totally overwhelmed as the 10 courthouses cannot accommodate their briefs.

Culture

Who didn’t teach the art of learning to Ishawna, Junjo Draws and Guava Bud who were recently in the news? Ishawna didn’t know Louise Bennett. We did. Louise Bennett, college graduate, London, taught speech, drama, folk dance and folk songs at Excelsior High School. We were in her class and we benefited, especially for the management of the aitch — the letter ‘h’ that causes so much distress in our speech. Everybody in her speech and English classes knew: “How Hannibal, Hannibal, Hannibal, Hannibal, Hannibal crossed the Alps. Miss Louise Bennett did not teach folk songs out of England; we knew them already. She made us sing our local folk songs and we went on stage and performed them. Teenagers, like myself, got in big trouble from our parents and church for going on stage and dancing to “One Bongo Man Come Fi Court Mi” and “Dis Lang Time Gal Mi Neva See Yuh”. It was Bennett who put life in the vowels and had us saying: “H-a-m ham, h-e-m, hem, ham hem, h-i-m, him, ham, hem, him, h-o-m, hom, ham, hem, him, hom, h-u-m hum, ham, hem, him, hom, hum.”

It was not easy to make us accept our own story. Many Jamaicans turned up their noses at her method of highlighting our heritage, but she persevered. She spoke English and knew there was a time and place for everything. I wish the hundreds of us who were taught subjects: English, speech, drama, dance and folk singing by Louise Bennett would raise our hands and be counted, if we can.

Then there is Junjo Draws. He needs to know that rules and regulations govern everything we do. There are no shortcuts and every long-term successful man has to climb step by step up a ladder of perseverance. Just ask us retired professionals. There is no quick trip. Junjo Draws used his one line: “A, B, C; 1, 2, 3; Cow jump ova de moon; an’ I coming to si yu soon,” — maybe the extent of his education and he cuts one single ‘chune’ (tune) with it, used up the money he got and is now tearing down the place because people are boxing bread out of his mouth and he has children to feed and send to school. Somebody needs to teach him and help him to get the same old-fashioned education and a good skill that successful Jamaicans built their lives on. Have they stopped teaching memory gems like: “Silver and gold will vanish away, but a good education will never decay.” Who will teach Junjo Draws the rules of that part of our disciplined society? Those rules still stand and are holding us up.

The Arts

Now Guava Bud is a prolific poet. She’s the most popular writer-woman, I believe, since Joan of Arc, and she deals with not just human rights but the rights of women. At this big literary arts reading fair, professors Beade and Morton stood tall as they were trained; iambic pentameters in the right places, and they read with profound erudition. The people clapped for they were learned, experienced lecturers of the university and no way would they read or recite foolishness. After the reading, the young poet, Guava Bud, went on stage to an imaginary beat and said two poems about life and money. People laughed and clapped. Then, with the beat of the drum she told how her husband hit her, just once. “Him hit me before him went to work. And ma friends dem tell mi what to do. So ah lick him hard wid di frying pan, an’ him briefcase drop out ov him han. An’ him try to fly out troo di door, but I kick him behine an’ him hit the floor. I tell him to be very smart; for nex’ time, when him asleep, hot water will wet his private part.” The place erupted as she showed where she’d pour the hot water. Her poems were lively and she got invitations to read to women’s groups at home and abroad. They loved the poems where she fought back for her rights, and this was inspiring to many women who sat their lives in subservience. She however felt she had written more than 400 poems, and the professors had done a little over 100, each, in their long lifetime. She wondered why she was not nominated to be poet laureate as they were. In her formal interview on television, she felt her work deserved academic recognition, especially when she had written more pieces than the professors. She talked about ‘voilence’ for violence, ‘cerfiticate’ for certificate, ‘coob’ for coop and ‘fambily’ for family, and when she was corrected she accused the person of being old-fashioned and listed a number of people she knew who succeeded without the trappings of a formal education programme. She felt the changes taking place in the world would enable her to use any word where she liked and pronounce it as she wished. Somebody needs to teach poet, Guava Bud, that this same old world spins on systems and rules and regulations.

A nation with roots

It is not too late to teach young people to respect our national symbols and elders who paved good paths for us. Our young relatives who live in America will go on field trips to Abraham Lincoln’s house, and we’d like to think our young people, like Junjo Draws, know of the contribution made by first Olympians like Les Laing, Arthur Wint, Herb Mckenley, George Rhoden and, lone woman, Dr Cynthia Thompson.

A few years ago a group of us stood on the Gordon Town Road waiting for our transport. We looked at the house once occupied by Sir Alexander and Lady Bustamante and thought we’d test a group of matinee-goers who walked towards us. We asked them who lived in that house facing us. “Is an old woman. We don’t know her name, but we go over dere and get fruits all di time,” the young volunteer said. Sir Alex and Lady B meant nothing to them.

We recently visited a basic school where the children identified the colours of the national flag as black, green, gold, or yellow. We asked who taught our children to say that, because we were at the National Stadium when the first flag was raised and the Union Jack lowered. Our senior legislators settled for black, green and gold and did not settle for yellow; for they knew there are 33 shades of that colour. We now have our national flag in different colours; some with black, green and canary, buttercup, and daffodil yellow. We have to teach stability by sticking to the design and colours laid down by respected forefathers and take note of the century-old permanence of the Union Jack of Britain, the stars and stripes of America, and the rising sun of Japan.

It’s not the numbers and the big, impressive statistics that’s going to make a difference; it’s the ability to take responsible action, to absorb the best change that is taking place, while paying respect to the work done by the founding elders.

veronica_carnegie@cwjamaica.com