A Tale of Two Alis

I went to a thing tonight and I want to blog about it before the feeling leaves me. Because there was a sense of being in a bubble of meaningful reasoning…and then you leave the Antigua and Barbuda Youth Enlightenment Academy and step back in to the real world.

Enlightenment Academy

The Antigua and Barbuda Enlightenment Academy has been the site of some of my writing workshops and continues to be a space that welcomes cultural and artistic activities, while remembering committed to shaping the future by working with the youth. It is located in Gunthorpes.

So, let me begin by saying kudos to Lawrence Jardine and Mali Adelaja Olatunji of the Antigua and Barbuda Youth Enlightenment Academy which, moved by the life and recent death of Muhammad Ali, the Greatest, organized a panel discussion. Going, I wasn’t sure what to expect but I think the 30 high people in the room would agree that it was an evening well spent.
Boxers like Coach Anthony Severin of Uprising Boxing Gym, Larry Charles (you might know him as the proprietor of Big Deli known for its delicious sandwiches and its boxing memorabilia), and fellow boxer Archibald Richards discussed what boxing and Ali have meant to them. It was a night for reflecting on their encounters in the ring and encounters with Ali and his message. Also on the panel were cricketer and coach Hugh Gore, former national basketball player and Muslim Khalid Shabazz, photographer Colin Cumberbatch, and National Hero Sir Vivian Richards – a mix which moved the discourse beyond the ring.

Ali

This has been floating around my social media and though there are some notable absences (Is Malcom X there? Can someone point him out for me if he is?) it is a beautiful sentiment and a celebration of the icons lost to the afterlife. If anyone knows the artist let me know so that I can properly credit it.

Some highlights…

Coach Anthony sharing that, as a product of a single parent household in Villa, boxing provided motivation for him, forcing him to be disciplined and resilient. This is what he’s trying to pass on to the young people he works with at Uprising Boxing Gym which is located in the facilities that once hosted the boys’ school in Ottos. His efforts, he said, is helping to keep them off the street. And having seen the level of engagement and deportment among the teenage boys he brought with him – and the level of articulation when they spoke as one did during the free flowing discussion – he’s doing more than that; he’s shaping them in to thoughtful young adults. And isn’t that what we want?  So why are we learning, as we did during the session, that Uprising is in danger of losing its home, a revelation that prompted Sir Viv to pledge to do what he could to help. Because when someone is doing positive work in the area of youth development, the last thing you want to hear, really, is that the Minister of Sports (who also heads the National Olympic Committee) has told them that their days in the space the club calls home are numbered. Talking to Coach Anthony after the session, the way it was done also leaves much to be desired. Disappointing. As this is a new development, he didn’t have a specific plan on the way forward for Uprising but I think everyone there would agree that they would like to see its work continue.

Sir Viv who spoke of his encounters with Ali in Pakistan and Manhattan – icon to icon – made perhaps his most meaningful contribution when he spoke directly to these young men from Uprising, telling them “even though you may have the skill, always remember that the will must be greater than the skill.” He made it a point to speak to them a time or two more. On the point of the badmindedness our people are sometimes prone to give out instead of encouragement (something he, Gore, and some others spoke to), Sir Viv charged them to use it as reinforcement. “Sometimes you have to thank them for being so critical,” he said, using it as motivation to “make them eat their words.” And he pushed further “choose your companions (well); there are some guys who may not be as good as you are who don’t want to see you succeed.” Sir Viv wasn’t just in and out, by the way, he lingered for the mingle and the picture taking, evincing a very generous spirit. That merits respect for the man described during the reasoning as Antigua and Barbuda’s Ali, not just because he was a great sportsman but also because, while I’m not suggesting that either man is or was perfect (I must say we got the de-sanitized version of some of Ali’s interactions – with the women in his life, for instance), like Ali he was a great man who stood for something when it counted and at great personal cost. As one person referenced, Viv, easily one of the top batsmen ever, is also counted as one who stood up against Apartheid in South Africa, resisting a huge payday to play there, while racial justice remained a dream in SA, much like Ali did resisting going to fight in Vietnam at a time when racial justice was just a dream in America. The fact that this discussion and in fact these men engage me in spite of my lack of real interest, if I’m being honest in the sports of boxing and cricket, speaks to the ways they’ve eclipsed the sports that made them famous in ways that, to reference Ali, “shook up the world”.

A few of the panelists spoke to the role our sportsmen play in our lives and the lack of respect and support they receive here at home. I observed, for instance, how quietly animated the young people were when Archibald ‘Fighting Jim’ Richards (who reported he’d had 28 wins, 10 losses, and five draws in 43 professional bouts) and Larry Charles re-lived their fights in and out of the ring, watching them emulate the jabs the men were describing as though seeing the fight play out in front of them.  And yet, as Khalid Shabazz said, it is not unusual for athletes who have, like these men, flown the flag abroad or mentored others in so doing, to return home unheralded. Too many, he said, “don’t have a job, are living in squalor or walking the street and don’t know where they can buy a tin of milk.”

Charles, an entertaining storyteller whose every word drips not only with his affection for Ali but his passion for boxing (“boxing is not about brawn, you have to know the discipline of boxing…you have to love boxing like you love drinking water”), dropped truths about his tough coaching style balanced by the investment he made in developing the sport here on his return from the US – and the lack of support of such efforts.

“We’re not going anywhere until we change the whole system in our country, otherwise we’re going to be second best all the time”.

Okay, okay, I know it’s starting to sound a bit like a gripe-fest but it really wasn’t. It was a reflection on Ali’s life and, inevitably, on the life of our own Ali, but also an opportunity to discuss our own (sometimes stagnated) potential. Although as men like Sir Viv prove we’re only stagnated by the limitations of our reality if we allow it. And so one of the more important points made, and I can’t remember exactly who made it, was that even with the lack of support and with being dismissed as small island when we go out there, we must use the criticism and adversity to make us stronger.

I am a writer, I love some sports, but I’ve never been particularly athletic, but this spoke to me and I’m hoping it resonated with the young men, especially, in the room as well – and it made me regret not bringing my nephew along as I had planned to. Because in the end, the session was very affirming in my view; realistic but affirming.

‘Nuff respect to Mali and Lawrence for putting it together and for the work they’re trying to do with the Academy (as Lawrence said with “the future, the young people”.

Finally, I’m amused at the way people say “you’re shy” like it’s something I need to apologize for. It’s true I’m not very social around people I don’t know very well or feel comfortable with. It’s not criminal. I’ll tell you what is criminal (not literally, of course) is the lack of media engagement with activities like this as this kind of conversation is both necessary and good.

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De Bull

This one is a million years old (in a world where 16 years = 1 million years). I wrote it back when I was still on staff at the Antigua Sun (remember that?). I dug it up recently and thought, why not. Before you call me out on my lack of cricket-cricketing, whatever, Sir Viv eclipses all that (close your eyes and imagine smirky face emoticon here). And after that stellar introduction, De Bull:

by jhohadli

De Bull stride in
full of grace and beauty
decked out in his maroon
and tears that mirror
our own.

He kneels down before us
though not bowed.
Never that!

Never was a prouder man
Never a man to make us feel
as proud
Prouder still
as the sword lightly kissed
shoulders of steel
and tears liberally wet
his black cheeks
and emotion took hold of
us all
child, woman and man

This Black Man
Master Blaster
Antiguan Prince
Warrior
who though he had
at battle’s end
put down his bat
to us would forever wield it
like some bronzed icon
like a samurai stripping
bare his enemies
like too many a arwe people
who, with callused hands,
swung cutlasses on sugar
plantations
He would wield it for us all

And our hearts would swell
as they swell now
not a begrudging word in the
mix
just grinning, jumping ‘round,
crying and shouting
him marching from stand to
stand
fist clenched in a stance
reminiscent of a 1968
Black Power salute
in Mexico

(“No bowler holds a terror!”
Shorty, we couldn’t have said it
better)
From day one
the man demonstrated the
spirit of a Champion.

Vivi, we remember

Ent you too?
dreaming big dreams
hanging from the branches of
a tree over the ARG
where finally full circle
we lift you up
as you had done for us
long ago
no more minority
no more small islander
but Black People!
Antiguan!

© 2000, Joanne C. Hillhouse. All Rights Reserved.

Readers say the darndest things…

This post cracked me up. Got me thinking about some of the perspectives people have shared privately and publicly about my characters over the years …comments like:

 “So she’d kill the tree with gasoline? I wish she’d have come to some other conclusion.” (in response to After Glow which can now be read in the anthology So the Nailhead Bend, So the Story End) Layout 1

 “I am thinking of the child and her grandmother. People show love in so many odd ways. They do not hug and squeeze you but they do show love.” (in response to Country Club Kids in the Caribbean Writer)

“I want to imagine that Matthew Henry Luke, somewhere down the line, lifts his feet and runs to bowl a cricket ball at 100mph with the same accuracy that won him a marbles championship and that Cheri becomes his cherie.” (in response to a yet unpublished story workshopped at the Caribbean Literary Salon)

“I wanted to strangle Michael and slap Selena; loved their conclusion; hated the ending.” (in response to Dancing Nude in the Moonlight)

“I have a love/hate relationship with Nikki. Sometimes I identify with her thought processes and other times I just want to smack her.” (in response to Oh Gad!)Oh Gad cover

Now what is it about my female characters that makes people want to smack/slap them? Poor Nikki and Selena. Don’t worry, ladies, I still love you.

I am humbled and tickled always by people engaging with the writing in whatever ways they engage with the writing, and especially so when they get caught up enough with the characters to have a genuine emotional reaction to them (tears, laughter, anger, frustration…). But one of my very first reader responses remains my favourite. It was from my sister in response to my first book The Boy from Willow Bend for this “Tanty’s dying all over again made me cry” (because…yeah) and, as relayed by her, this from my niece who was maybe five at the time and “wanted to know if you wrote the book all by yourself and why???” (laughter, tears…because, forget readers, kids say the darndest things).

Check out more reader responses and reviews to The Boy from Willow Bend, Dancing Nude in the Moonlight, Oh Gad! and other writing.