On The Map: Myrie case triggers reminders

April 26, 2011

Myrie case triggers reminders

BY TONY BEST | FRI, APRIL 15, 2011 - 10:00 AM

Names such as Tawana Brawley, Maryam Muhammad, Steven Pagones, Alton Maddox, C. Vernon Mason and Henry Crist are unlikely to ring many bells in Barbados or Jamaica.

But to a criminal investigator in New York City, they mean quite a lot. As a young lawyer in the late 1980s he followed an unfolding drama that involved those names and attracted national and international attention.

Twenty-four years later, he isn’t quite sure who or what to believe, except that he is leaning to accept the findings of a special grand jury that looked into the high-profile case.

Hence, when emotions ran high in Jamaica and Barbados after Shanique Myrie levelled explosive charges that she was “finger-raped” by a female immigration officer at Grantley Adams International Airport and Barbados’ Foreign Minister, Senator Maxine McLean, rejected the charges as being “baseless,” the attorney offered a word of caution to both sides.

“I believe Barbadians and Jamaicans should let investigators do their work, carefully and independently,” said the man who requested anonymity because of the position he holds in the city.

“The Tawana Brawley case offers a poignant reminder about how things can go horribly wrong and how passions can be inflamed when we rush to judgement.”

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Statement

The Caribbean was the cradle of New World globalization. Our people all came from somewhere else, into the belly of the Americas.

Characterised by waves of migrant experience, the Caribbean became a place of confluence, transience and hybridity which for years romanticized the struggle to be whole, to become one Caribbean people. In spite of this ideal, we remain as fragmented as ever, locked into nationalist crevices, linguistic divides and exclusivist cultural legitimacy.

The repeated production of idyllic images of an eternal playground for tourists on the one hand, and notions of the region as fragmented, failed and chaotic on the other; mask a complex history, leaving Caribbeans ambivalent about a sense of self.

We must answer the question, both creatively and critically, what is the Caribbean? What image of ourselves do we wear and to what extent do these images represent who we actually are? What is the truth of our own lived realities and how do we speak to each other of this reality?

The challenge is to remove the mask created by the visitors’ gaze, to see through the rigid stereotypes, and to honestly reflect on our states of being.

My work exposes tensions within the larger context of a post-colonial history and the more recent experiences of post independence and 9/11. More personal explorations of home/land, longing and belonging, and creoleness, serve as cartographic meanderings of Caribbean space, and investigations of the self within that space; in an effort to discern the territory.

September 9 2007
St. George, Barbados

(complete text)

I am the complex Creole
My context is the Caribbean

An archipelago crocheted into a crossbreed
Of carnival, class and comess
Cognizant of Columbus
And the Commonwealth
That created these confused colonies
Correctly criticized for the callous treatment
Of the Amerindian
And the reconstitution
Of a Caribbean caste system

Several centuries later
My coronary artery crackles
When I think of the creatures
That created this cacophonous confusion

And although we collide
There is more chaos than community
Some feel like foreigners
As though uncharacteristic
Of these now ex-colonies
Our natural native islands

I celebrate the chorus of the Creole Chant

But I have a creed that I wear
Like a crest on my chest
My credentials are that I am created equally
Credible from my cranium to my coccyx

I cleave to no church, temple nor country
I sing the canticles
And practice a yoga
I chant
I breathe
I made my jappa and wrote a creed
I owned a crucifix
And acknowledge the crescent

I anoint myself with a communion of
Cinnamon, coffee and cumin
Cocoa, cotton and cane
It is with composure and compassion that
I conceive my compatriots as compatible
Whether Cuban or Guyanese,
Christian or Muslim, Hindu or Jew

I contemplate a Caribbean conservatory
That is a consanguineous conscious community
Confidently confirming a conglomerate
Who speak patois, Papiamento, Spanish and Creole

I celebrate the chorus of the Creole Chant

As a complex Creole
Confronting this crossroads of centuries
I cannot condone the corruption
Nor those who configure the conflict –
I outcast them from community

I contradict the unicursal way
And commemorate the cobweb we have become
I come to you
Not as a comedian
Nor as a clown
I come to you as a coalition
Of combustible matter
A civilized collective
Sometimes caustic, but never counterfeit
I am a cordless creator of culture
Conveying my codes
To a community that isn’t convinced
Of the credit of cultural producers

And now I wear coronet
A continuous circular

In my cipher
I chuckle
I weep

I celebrate the chorus of the Creole chant

April 26, 2011

Myrie case triggers reminders

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Statement

Creole Chant

(complete text)

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