Monthly Archives: May 2013

On the Anniversary of Guyana’s Independence Day: A Tribute to Stanley Greaves

26 Sunday May 2013

Posted by in Guyana, Poets & Writers

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Ground Birds - Shadows Series - Stanley GreavesGround Birds by Stanley Greaves from his Shadows Series
Acrylics on Canvas scroll. 102 x 76 cm.
Source: http://marukadc.com/galleryGreaves.html

 

On Guyana’s forty-seventh anniversary as an independent nation, I would like to celebrate our achievements and pay tribute to a son of Guyana: Stanley Greaves. An artist, sculpture, poet, and classical guitarist, he defines himself as “a maker of things.”

Born in 1934 in a tenement yard in Georgetown, Greaves was in his thirties at the birth of our nation. He describes life in the tenement yard as a vibrant community… with its own dramas among the families that lived there. He came from a family who were good at making things. His paternal grandfather was an upholsterer and cabinet maker from Barbados. His father made their own furniture. As a young boy, Greaves made things with whatever he could find: empty matchboxes, cigarette boxes, bits of string, wire, empty boot-polish tins. (Interview with Anne Walmsley of BOMB Magazine in Winter 2004.)

In his teens, Greaves began painting and developed his art at the Working Peoples’ Art Class (1948-1961). He later trained in the United Kingdom (1963-1968) and the United States (1979-1980). During his years back home in Guyana, he served as an art teacher and spent twelve years at the University of Guyana as head of the Creative Arts Division. Then in 1987, he left to reside in Barbados.

Recognition only came after years of work. In 1994, Greaves’ triptych of paintings, There Is a Meeting Here Tonight, won a Gold Medal at the Santo Domingo Biennales of Painting. Thenceforth, his acclaim grew within the Caribbean Region and beyond.

Greaves’ first poetry collection, Horizons: Selected Poems 1969-1998, was published by Peepal Tree Press, UK, in 2002. His second collection, The Poems Man, came out in 2009.

In Horizons, two political poems remain relevant today. Written in 1976, “To Politicians” brought to mind the vision of the founding fathers of our nation in 1966 to mold One People, One Nation, One Destiny.

A vortex of language, / seductive words of power / corrupt the tongue. / But words must leap fresh / – luminous lukanani in a pool. / Words must hit the air / – cosmic vibrations / of the gallant bell-bird. / Words must secure visions.

In “Knees” (1998), Greaves expresses hope that the people will someday bring to their knees politicians who accept words dangerous to truth.

Streets will sound to marching knees / Parents will dream for their children / and all will be right, perhaps, / in that dream if not this, / where knees of a weary people / threaten petty politics.

Greaves’ art has transformed over the years. His more recent Shadow Series explore the realm of shadows that lies beyond the second and third dimensions. To learn more, you can watch his Interview with Derrice Deane of CaribNation Television in 2011.

After forty-seven years as a developing nation, Guyana remains a shadow of its true potential. Unable to come together as One People, we are afraid to walk towards the Sun with confidence to achieve Our Destiny as a great nation…for all.

The Only Path to Serenity

19 Sunday May 2013

Posted by in United States

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Frankenstorm Sandy - October 2012Frankenstorm Sandy – NOAA/NASA GOES Image – 30 October 2012
Source: http://www.livescience.com

Negativity is bad for your health, a doctor once told me. And my life has had no shortage of negativity. So, to maintain a healthy, positive outlook, I start my day with a Psalm from the Bible and end it with a chapter from Lao-tzu’s Tao Te Ching. Chapter nine offered the following advice to attain serenity.

            Fill your bowl to the brim
            and it will spill.
            Keep sharpening your knife
            and it will blunt.
            Chase after money and security
            and your heart will never unclench.
            Care about people’s approval
            and you will be their prisoner.
 
            Do your work, then step back.
            The only path to serenity.

            Tao Te Ching, A New English Version by Stephen Mitchell, 1988.

I won’t lie. This last week, my bowl brimmed over with frustration at the latest scandals – pertaining to Benghazi, the IRS, and the Associated Press – brought against our President by dissatisfied senators in the opposition party. A faction is calling for his impeachment. The more I learn about American democracy, the less I understand. Instead of tackling the problems crippling our nation, our elected representatives spend most of their time obstructing the decision-making process.

Seasoned politicians seem to have learned how to flow with the current of dissent to get some work done. Perhaps, experience has taught them that obstructionists who keep sharpening their knives become irrelevant over time. Sadly, we the people suffer the consequences of their inaction.

Chasing after money and security is the privilege of the rich. With federal budget sequester cuts of about $85.4 billion, slated for this year, austerity is reserved for the low-paid, underpaid, unemployed, and retired working class. Money is scarce. Insecurity is a way of life.

Our recent failure to pass common sense gun control laws exposed senators who are prisoners of campaign donors, stifling their freedom to act in the interest of their constituents. Disapproval would end their political career.

Doing what is morally right takes courage. We have to be prepared to stand alone, to lose friendships, to lose our job. Shunned by our peers.

While our senators played political games of positioning for future elections, instead of doing their jobs, the carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere broke a three-million-year record (NOAA Release, 10 May 2013). The average daily level has now surpassed 400 parts per million. More calamities, like Frankenstorm Sandy, await us.

Lao-tzu said, Do your work, then step back. Our President appears to have a head start in this regard. Some political commentators accuse him of lacking forcefulness in handling the latest scandals. Who knows the minds of our leaders?

We must remain engaged in these matters that govern and affect our lives. We must each continue to do our part to bring about the changes we need. One step at a time. One day at a time.

With the prospects of greater austerity, insecurity, and calamity, I will definitely need a good dose of serenity.

The Best Mother’s Day Gift

12 Sunday May 2013

Posted by in Brazil, Family Life, United States

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My Sons - Fortaleza - Ceara - Brazil - 1992My Sons – Fortaleza – Ceará – Brazil – 1992

When my two sons were kids, my best Mother’s Day gifts were the cards they made for me. I treasure these cards to this day. Now that they are young men, my best Mother’s Day gift is celebrating their achievements, large and small, as they work towards their individual goals in life.

Many are the challenges we mothers face as we raise and prepare our children to take their place in the world: to be kind, to make a difference, to triumph over loss and misfortune.

This Mother’s Day, I think of mothers who struggle to raise their children under adverse conditions. Mothers who labor at low-wage jobs in fast-food restaurants, retail stores, and hotels. Mothers who have lost their homes to foreclosure and raise their kids in cars and shelters. Mothers who have lost their jobs and must depend upon charitable and government assistance to feed their children.

When we are strong, our children learn to be strong too. There are countless, unknown, courageous mothers across America and our planet who can attest to this. Dona Lindu (photo below) from Pernambuco in Northeast Brazil, a woman who could not read or write, was such a mother.

Dona Lindu - Mother of Former President of Brazil, Luiz Inacio Lula da SilvaSource: revistacrescer.globo.com

Here’s what one of Dona Lindu’s sons said about her:

I thank God for my mother’s courage. Do you know what I keep thinking? How is it that an illiterate woman like that…gather seven* children together and come to São Paulo, in the hope of meeting a husband that she had no idea what he was doing in life?… And succeeded in leaving this husband. And succeeded in raising seven children. Because, if it’s true that marginality is connected to poverty, my mother is the opposite of this. During a period of immense misery, my mother raised five sons that became poor men, but honorable, and three women that didn’t have to prostitute themselves. I think this is very noble. Because of this, I have an immeasurable respect for my mother [he cries].

… My mother had a very great desire for life. She didn’t get depressed or discouraged. She was not a woman who complained about life. I don’t recall my mother complaining about working too much. There was always something that caused her to say: “It’s great, everything’s fine!” Whenever we complained, she would say: “Tch, but there’re people worse off than you.”

* The eldest son had already joined their father in São Paulo.

LUIZ INÁCIO LULA DA SILVA, PRESIDENT OF BRAZIL (JAN 2003 – DEC 2010)
Translation by Rosaliene Bacchus of interview in June 1993 with Denise Paraná, from her official biography Lula, o filho do Brasil (Lula, The Son of Brazil), Third Edition, São Paulo, Brazil, 2008.

Dona Lindu died in 1980. She did not see her son Lula inaugurated as President of Brazil on 1 January 2003. How could she have imagined that one of her sons would achieve such greatness?

Strong character arises from struggle. Our labor and sacrifices bear fruit of worth. What better gift could a mother hope for?

Success is Transitory

05 Sunday May 2013

Posted by in Brazil, Economy and Finance, Working Life

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Bairro Varjota - Fortaleza - CearaBairro Varjota – Fortaleza – Ceará – Brazil
Photo by Macilio Gomes (www.panoramio.com)

 

As Import Manager at Ceará Importers,* a successful and expanding young medium-sized company in Fortaleza, I thought that I had finally made it in Brazil. Gone were my days of struggle to raise the rent and my sons’ high school fees. We dressed better, frequented the cinema, and enjoyed holiday week-end outings. I also began looking for an apartment closer to my workplace and my sons’ school.

After relocating to his farm 52 miles away from the capital, a good friend offered to rent me his apartment in Bairro Varjota, an upscale neighborhood in Fortaleza. An evening after work, my sixteen-year-old son and I visited the apartment. Located on the eighth floor of a ten-story apartment building, it had a master bedroom with bathroom, two other bedrooms sharing another bathroom and self-contained quarters for a live-in maid. The view from the living room balcony took my breath away.

My son looked at me wide-eyed. “Mom, you’re dreaming. We can’t afford a place like this,” he told me.

“We can make it happen,” I said.

By cutting non-essential expenses, we were able to cover the doubly higher rent and condo fees. Change demanded individual sacrifices.

Four months and thirteen days after moving into our new apartment, the Brazil Central Bank announced a change in foreign exchange rates. The Brazil real, pegged one-to-one with the American dollar (R$1.00 = US$1.00) during the previous five years under the economic Plano Real (Real Plan), would undergo fluctuations. The measure aimed to defend Brazil’s foreign reserves that had suffered losses totaling over US$44 billion during the financial crises in Asia (1997) and Russia (1998).

The announcement that Wednesday in January 1999 caused havoc at Ceará Importers. The cost of our imports had increased overnight. Our products were no longer competitive with similar nationally produced goods. Sales plummeted with increased prices. The company began closing its retail stores, laying-off the employees. Tensions rose at the head office-warehouse-showroom complex where I worked.

Who would be next?

I floundered as the company lost its ground and battled to find a new direction for survival. I crumbled as colleagues I had come to know and love said their goodbyes.

By mid-year, I worked only half-days. Paying my rent became a challenge. Sleepless nights assailed me. My hunt for a job opening began anew.

As shipments came to a halt, I became irrelevant. My final days came in February 2000. Despite a number of job interviews, I hadn’t yet secured a new job.

When we are on top, we think that it will last forever. I learned that in a globalized economy, there is no job security. We never know when destructive winds will blow our way and sweep our success from under our feet.

* Fictitious Name