50 Years Ago

It's is a new week and that means that it is time for a new 50 for 50 prompt challenge. This week the challenge was to write about someone trying to decide what Jamaica needs to do to move forward and it had to be in the form of a short story. Short stories tend to be more a challenge for me because as you know I'm more of a poet, journalist or novelist when it comes on to my writing. But I do enjoy the challenge of remaking my linguistic architecture. Anyhoo, last week I came 2nd so let's see how well I did this week. I will surely keep you posted. And if you want to check out other writers and linguistic aspirants just click the link and check it out. Here

50 years ago when Norman Manley and Sir Alexander Bustamante made the trek into Independence they had but strong hopes and dreams as the backbone for the nation they loved so much. They aspired to develop a country on firm principles, integrity, education, justice and a good financial foothold.

Elsa was but a young girl then. She had just turned 18 and after an entire education system of British Colonial rule she knew little of her country’s history and heritage and more about the colonial masters and their European history. Yet, she entered into the noble profession of teaching with hopes of passing on surmountable knowledge to those soon to come.

So imagine her surprise when she realizes that despite the myriad of changes that have gone on in the world and the newly widespread availability of technology that the world has surely changed but our education system has remained constant.  We continue to stifle the growth of our children’s intellectual development by preparing them to do traditional jobs but not to be innovative in creating jobs. We teach them to be workers rather than entrepreneurs. Why is financial planning and education not popularly taught in schools? How can we expect to have a prosperous economy when our own citizens don’t know how to handle their money?

She wondered ‘how did a country with so much promise end up in such a situation?’ Where we have university graduates who can’t jobs and a people not confident in its government’s abilities to lead and change our future. The fact that every year we have a brain drain of some of our most skilled workers. Who will be left to lead? Why are children having children? Why don’t we have justice for wrong doings? Why? Why? Why? That is all she could ask why?

50 years ago Jamaica showed so much promise for the future and now desolation pervades the atmosphere. When will the change come? Who will rise up and fix all that is broken? Who will amend our education system, heal our financial sector or prescribe more jobs for our citizens? Who will foster creative and innovative minds to make us a sustainable investment? At this point all Elsa can do is ask Who? What? Where? When? Why?

Yuh hear bout wi?

Hey all it's another and that means another writing challenge for me. So last week I came in 4th with my short story and this week under the theme: Jamaica tourist season and with the challenge: Create a character who publicizes or represents Jamaica in an unconventional way I came second. So without further ado here is my poem. I hope you enjoy. And as always comments are welcomed. Also, if you want to see other responses take a look Here

 Yuh hear bout wi?

Ornella Green

Yuh know bout fi mi Jamaica?

Yuh hear bout wi?

Fi mi likkle island

It sweet. It sweet suh til

No man mi nah jus talk bout di beach dem

Mi know seh yuh muss hear bout dat

Mi love di beach

But ah nuh dat mi ah chat

Yuh know weh mi ah talk bout?

Mi ah chat bout wi parish dem

Every single one wid its own identity

Unique to ah core

Yuh hear bout wi city life?

Kingston and Montego Bay

Wid di brite brite lite dem

Weh come alive ah nite

Yuh know bout wi club dem

Weh people guh fi dance and palave dem worries away

Link up wid dem breddrin’

From night til day

Wah bout wi museum dem?

Weh share di whola wi culcha?

Art, music, sport

All finance dem feecha

Yuh did know seh wi have surfing?

Surf team weh ah excel

Meet dem inna Portland or St. Thomas

Yes mi chile dem ah dweet sweet

Yuh dun know seh wi love fi dance

Suh is it ah surprise seh we have a latin culcha?

Latin night wi ah pree

When wi visit di city

Wi ice cream sweet yuh

Unno rank it one ah di bess inna di worl’

Wi jerk chicken and pork unno wah fi taste

Mek yuh lick yuh finga dem to the core

Suh come have one taste inna Jamdown

Ah devon house or ah pan man who deh roun’

Yuh wah know bout wi hist’ry?

Den guh visit Spanish town

Wi fus capital dat inno

And dem building deh still deh roun’

Yuh wah see beauty?

Take one trip roun’

Di North Coast, Hope Gardens, or even Nanny town

Hike up ah Blue Mountains

An’ doa stop dere more ecotourism abound

Come to fi mi island

And learn bout wi

Fourteen parishes

Fourteen identities

One sweet sweet Jamdown

Blessing or Curse by Ornella Green

This is the 4th week in the prompt and the theme was "Heritage". I choose the sub-theme of "Mixed children". And if you want to check out other writers doing the prompts and their work feel free to click on the link: http://50for50jubilee.wordpress.com. So without further ado, here goes:

Blessing or Curse

Ornella Green

Every morning I wake up and do the same thing. I look in the mirror, inspect my features and wonder. Why was I put in this body? Why was I given this skin? Is it a blessing or is it a curse? Is it a badge of honour or a badge of shame?

With a black mother and a white father I’ve come to have the complexion two shades lighter than a chestnut. I have fair facial features from my father’s ancestory. Small beady eyes light-brown in colour, a small curvy mouth and a button nose smack dab in the middle of my neatly proportionate face. On the other hand, my body is that purely of a black woman. With a miniscule stature and a desirably curvaceous body I seem to be the envy of many women and the desire of many men.

The Englishman refers to me as a ‘mulatto’ but in Jamaica they just say ‘brownin’.

“Psst brownin’,” they constantly scream as I walk down the street with my friends.

Ugh, I hate that word. Last time I checked browning was a seasoning and it looked quite black. But still, they persist. But it isn’t their words that bother me. No it’s the meaning behind it. “Brownin’” and “Mulatto”. They both mean the same thing to me: you don’t belong.

Where does my identity truly lie? Is it with my father or with my mother? Is my light complexion considered a diluted black or a darkened white? Where do I lay my loyalties? How do I blend in with anyone when I stick out like a sore thumb? My country’s motto is ‘Out of many, one people’, yet everyone wants to know their identity. Everyone wants a group to identify as their own.

I’ve always been treated differently. As I child I was always singled out from my friends and siblings who were all a bit darker than I am. Sometimes I would be adored and other times scorned, all because I have a complexion that is different. Why?

I stand there, staring at my reflection and wonder. Where do I belong? The question resonates through my mind and ricochets through my body. Where do I belong? This is the internal struggle I face every day. A woman searching for her identity in a world that seems latch on to similarities and cast off all that is different. I peer into my eyes with a stark expression, examining all that I am, rotating once or twice as if trying on a fabulous new gown. And still the answer evades me. Where do I belong? Am I to be embarrassed or proud? Is this a blessing or a curse? To this day the question haunts me and I’m still searching for answers.

So I forgot to share le awesome news last week that my poem for prompt #2 actually came 1st!!!!!!! Wooot! Woot! *throws confetti* So here is this week's poem and this poem actually came 3rd this week *small yay*. Going back to reclaim the top spot next week that is my goal. But if you want to check out the other poets' works here's the link: http://50for50jubilee.wordpress.com/2012 And without further ado. Here's this week's poem under the theme: Heroes. Enjoy!

Born to Lead the Masses

Ornella Green

A strong man

Earnest and eager in spirit

Justice was his call

Freedom was his song

He didn’t have a cape

Nor had he worn a costume

His suit of armour was non-existent

All he came with was a voice and a dream

He stood up on the podium

Spreading words of wisdom

Speaking to the masses

Instilling words of inspiration

“Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery”

“If you have no confidence in self, you are twice defeated in the race of life”

“The black skin is not a badge of shame, but rather a glorious symbol of national greatness”

He spoke with a conviction that sent chills through our spines

A hero whose message preceeded him

Travelled across the waters

Transcends from coast to coast

A vision of black empowerment

Universal Negro Improvement Association

African Communities League

Were only few of his charters

The first of many to come

His legacy left on the world

With buildings in Africa, Europe, US and the Carribean

Jamaica’s first National Hero

Who else could bring such dignity to the black skin?

He wore many hats

Teacher

Journalist

Political Leader

Activist

But his first and foremost shall forever be his name

Marcus Mosiah Garvey

Hey guys. I finished prompt #2 in the Jamaica 50:50 prompt and it's officially up so I can share it with you all now. The theme this week was "Your character is a child in the 1962 Independence celebrations" So without further ado. Here goes my poem. I hope you enjoy and as usual comments are always welcomed. Oh and to vote for the poem just click on this link: http://50for50jubilee.wordpress.com/2012/06/08/independence-hullabaloo-by-ornella-green/ and comment. You can also check out other poems etc.

Hindependence Hullabaloo

by Ornella Green

August 20, 1962

Cuzzin suzie wah gwan?

My girl,

Yuh hear seh Jamaica get hindependence?

Bwoy mi nuh too kno weh dat mean

But mama seh wi free wi self from backa masta

Yes iyah dem all call election couple monts ago

And ah Missa Bustamante did win

No sah mi neva too care who did win still

All mi di wah hear ah no school and idle time

Mi did gawn afta dat

But mi seh yuh shudda deh ova yah

When August fifth midnight bell toll

Ah big big hexcitement bruk out

All fi di hindependence celebration

Mi seh mi chile

What a way di tings di nice

Maypole ah dance

Fireworks ah light up di sky

Clappaz ah buss

And di whole ah wi ah dance inna di street

What a piece ah sinting

Dem have big big ting

Ah National Stadium

Fi show wi di flag

Bwoy it pretty suh til

Wid wi colaz black, green and one gold ‘X’ inna di miggle

Den dem start sing wi new National Antem

“Heternal fadda bless hour land”

Ah suh mi tink it start

Mi nuh too know it yet

But mi glad fi tap sing dat blasted British Antem every morning

And haffi shout bout ‘God save the Queen’ like one blinking Jackass

Mi glad suh til

Di hexcitement reach mi

Ah wonder if ah dis daddy Sharpe di ah fight fah?

Or mas Marcus did ah preach?

Him seh back to Africa yes

But wi haffi start from someweh don’t?

Heneways cuzzin

Mi gone cuz mama ah call mi fi wash di clothes dem

Wah gwan fi yuh ah ‘Merica?

Lata,

Angie

So as promised here is my 5th place first prompt. The theme was 'Tainos'. I must admit it was a bit rough to do this one but I did my best.

First Born by Ornella Green

Children live what they learn

But what was taught to me?

Weapons and murder is survival

My family would be extinct on arrival of the invaders

What lessons have i learnt?

What have they taught me?

Exploit the meek and plunder

Rob and steal

I come from a simple way of being

Cassava, tobacco

All crops to feed

‘We were here first!’  I screamed at the top of my lungs

But they couldn’t understand

They didn't seem to understand me

They couldn't realize we were first to settle

First to make our homes

First to live these lives of freedom

All they sought was to destroy us

Make us work

And do what they want

Why haven't the gods helped us?

Why can't the cacique lead us to safety?

Are we doomed to this life?

Is there no escape for us?

Children live what they learn

But what was taught to me?

Survival is for the fittest?

The more vigilant and dominating?

What have they taught me?

Hey guys,

It's been far too long since I blogged and I've been on vacay for the past two weeks. The problem is I'm lacking inspiration and need a bit more motivation. So anyway just want to do a little update of what I'm doing. This year my homeland of Jamaica celebrates 50 years of Independence woot! Anyhoo I've been searching for a way to contribute and I found it through the 50 for 50 Challenge which is a prompt competition held over the space of 10 weeks. For those of you who don't know what a prompt is it's when you receive a theme and you're expected to present a poem on that particular theme using any writing style you want. As the weeks go by I'll post the poems I come up with after I've sent it in so you can get a taste of what I'm doing. I'll share the first prompt which I did already last week and came 5th in last week's competition. Hope you're enjoying your summer.

Much Love, 

Nella