Local government vision for the arts

Culture Matters

DARA E HEALY

“Although Port-of-Spain was gripped with war fever… poets and playwrights were producing work, dancers were performing and painters were applying brush to canvas…This era also saw the coming into prominence of dancers Beryl Mc Burnie and the versatile Boscoe Holder...Apart from giving artists every help and personal encouragement, (Albert) Gomes conducted a Sunday newspaper column on the arts. Although Gomes was essentially a politician – having been elected to the City Council in 1938 – he always found time to encourage artistic talent.”

– Michael Anthony, Port of Spain in a World at War

IN THE midst of much “excitement” over new management of the Rural Development and Local Government Ministry, some in the artistic field may well be wondering about the implications of a revitalised approach to this portfolio for culture and the arts. Carnival 2022 demonstrated not just the ability, but the desire of city corporations to invest in our national festival in ways that could directly impact small businesses and community entrepreneurs. As an uncertain global landscape continues to affect us at home, perhaps this new arrangement is an opportunity to achieve the vision of education, culture and national development articulated more than 70 years ago?

Even before we attained independence from the British, there was the conversation that education should not just empower communities, but be inspired by them. Dr Gordon Rohlehr highlights an original intention by Dr Eric Williams to focus on the rural high school, to “consciously abandon the conventions of academic secondary education and devote itself singlehandedly to the service of rural people.”

As part of the quest to develop the best model of education for our country, we explored how other nations were seeking to establish their own strong national identities. For instance, it seems that inspiration came from curriculum development work already being done in Mexico. Here, education was about building community, with rural schools able to lead “… in community life, help spend leisure and guide all community activities.”

It is now common knowledge that colonial education sought to divorce Caribbean peoples from their culture and turn their gaze instead towards England, “the mother country.” For anyone who views the world through a post-colonial lens, it is no doubt still a shock to recall the genuine desire by Caribbean people to support Britain and the allies during the war. It was in fact a matter of pride to take up arms in defence of the empire. Thus, in profound ways education divorced us from our community. It also deepened social divisions by establishing a system of prestigious educational institutions, versus everyone else.

“You look round for employment/Private sector or Government…/They want: Ten applications, twenty recommendations, fifty O-Level/You got to show them that you really capable/But in spite of all your paper/And you ain’t have a heavy godfather/The papers no use, darling, no use, no use.”

In the decades after we lowered the Union Jack and raised the red, white and black, calypsonians maintained a consistent focus on the gaps between what we said we should do and what was actually taking place in our schools and communities. From Chalkdust’s Teach the Right History and Prowler’s Build More Trade Schools, to Brother Mudada’s Papers No Use, artists pointed out that the vision of attaining development through community and culture eluded us.

Those of us who work with communities understand that the power to achieve change originates with the people. However, for those of us who insist on holding up the flambeaux of knowledge, we have many battle scars. Our war wounds range from scant regard to blatant disrespect for our commitment. But we have begun to see a shift, where increasingly our city corporations and community entities are embracing cultural practitioners as partners in the future development of TT.

If we hope to achieve pre-independence ambitions for our communities, we must accept the limitations of the book bag to chart their future. In an uncertain world, our gaze should turn to the significance of healing herbs found across our country, to nation dances, community festivals, ancestral recipes or to the messages hidden in the words of our traditional Carnival characters. We must understand the unifying power of bridges, street lights, safe and clean communities, dignified family life and vibrant cultural centres.

We must do more than embrace the potential of our communities; we must inspire them to craft their own vision for the future, including a vital role for culture and the arts. Now, that is exciting.

Dara E Healy is a performance artist and founder of the Indigenous Creative Arts Network – ICAN