Lessons from a pothound

DEBBIE JACOB

THE BEST lessons about independence came during the Independence Day parade when a stray dog made his grand entrance in the Queen’s Park Savannah, much to the delight of the audience. Prancing across the Savannah grounds, he reminded us of what to appreciate beyond formal celebrations, namely our spontaneity, creativity and individuality.

That dog came like a pierrot grenade interjecting a touch of humour in a very solemn, colonial ritual. He was not the sideshow or the party crasher. He represented the individual asserting his personal identity in a function meant to foster a collective identity.

This is not to say that I have anything against Independence Day parades – or any parade for that matter that celebrates some specific accomplishment in this country. I am just disappointed that such nationalistic fervour is confined to a day of stiff marching exercises, which contrasts somewhat absurdly with Carnival revellers using that same space to wine to soca music.

On September 1 every year, I am left wondering what we can do to whip up patriotic fervour for the rest of the year. In all fairness, I wonder the same thing when Carnival rolls around. After 38 years in this country, I still can’t understand how we can harness so much creative energy and muster so much pride on designated days for celebrations and then let it all escape like air from a balloon.

The stray dog on Independence Day also served as a reminder of something important that we seem to be losing: our sense of humour.

Crime has killed much of our sense of humour. There’s not much to laugh at any more, but the pothound juxtaposed with the pomp and circumstance of the Independence Day parade reminded us to laugh. Who didn’t chuckle at the sight of the dog lapping up spectators’ applause, which felt spontaneous and appropriate – a real appreciation of the rebellious and comical side of our nature.

So if the dog represented individuality, rebellion, creativity and our unique sense of humour, what does that Independence Day parade really mean to us? What do we see? Unity? Pride? Nationalism? Discipline? Colonialism?

Maybe it's the juxtaposition of the colonial past and the current freedom of this republic that gives meaning to this parade.

All I know is I’m never going to forget the lessons of a pothound that crashed the parade, and reminded us how important our sense of humour has always been for survival in the unimaginable tough times. Double entendre in calypso provided slaves with a safe form of rebellion and dictated freedom of expression when it was forbidden.

But Independence Day is not just the morning parade. At night, there are fireworks. In less than a day, government manages to obliterate the pride and patriotism it whips up in the morning. I just don’t get why the government doesn’t realise how troubling fireworks is to many people.

Elderly people, sick people and pet owners hate it, and that makes up a good bunch of this nation’s citizens. Fireworks symbolise the selfish, uncaring and wasteful behaviour that negates the positive traits that define us. Those fireworks violate our laws about noise pollution and animal abuse. Think of distressed pets and poor zoo animals suffering through fireworks.

Fireworks symbolise our penchant as a country for wasting money. I don’t care who pays for those fireworks because that money can be put to a better purpose. While my windows are rattling and my blind dog is pacing and I feel like I have to swallow my heart from the noise that scares me, I am thinking about how poor people who suffered through this pandemic could have used that money wasted on some colourful noise.

The beauty and thrill of fireworks could never make up for the clear message that is being sent: we don’t care about the vulnerable among us. For many of us, Independence Day ends with what feels like a collective slap in the face.

It’s time to understand the power of symbolic acts in our celebrations and do away with the fireworks. I’m not even advocating for the silent ones. We have a military-style marching parade, and that is enough foreign borrowed symbolism for me. Keep the cultural show and honour people and organisations that symbolise a unique contribution to independence in that evening programme.

Take that wasted money on fireworks and give it to some NGO. Find new ways of expressing joy and individuality on Independence Day. Take a lesson from the pothound that wandered on the Savannah this Independence Day.