ArtsEtc editor Linda M. Deane test-drives the 4 Love of Barbados prose poem template - to get an idea of what's possible and to encourage others to take up the challenge. The questionnaire is also below as are links to other responses gathered so far. We invite you to submit your most creative, original and thoughtful words. Who knows, they may end up in the 4LB anthology!
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I am Linda.
Writer, dreamer, doer from the long gap Cutting Road. Wood-and-wall house there in the bend with the almond tree in front, breadfruit tree pun one side, apple and lime tree long gone. Where the bikes and cars and trucks does be buzzing and barking and belching through loud, loud, loud while I trying to wuk and where a boy pun de block get shoot back in July. Got muh head real hot.
When I used to think bout Buhbayduss the words "back home" would first come to mind. That is how my parents referred to it when we, my sister and me, were growing up in England. Also "hot weather, beach, freedom." Later it became "home." Later still, I would also think about its literature and its survival in spite of history.
Now when I think bout Buhbayduss the word that springs to mind is "confuse." It no longer feels like home. People don't seem to love each other the way they used to.
I worry we're not leaving a proper future for our young people and the next young people after them. That we're setting them up for failure before they're even a glimmer. I fear the gun violence will destroy us, our communities, our sense of place, our health, our security. That the air and noise pollution from all the vehicles has already damaged the nation's health and well-being. Barbados only so big.
My earliest memory of Barbados? Being a child, 9 or ten years old, visiting for the first time in the 1970s. Being surrounded by other black people on a bus - first time experience for me - and feeling like I had arrived home. Like I belonged. Ice cream at Chefette Rockley during that same trip - a real occasion and a treat! - and the wind whipping up the sand and it stinging my arms and legs at Foul Bay. Fifty years ago but I remember the sensations and how I felt inside.
I hope this island will begin to live and love up to the words in its national anthem. That it truly becomes a place of joy. That its writers and artists are celebrated as national treasures.
Right now, Barbados reminds me of a crab or a rat; an overcrowded rock, murky blue-green in colour; a dark, heavy cloud that won't rain.
If I were PM I would have to find a way to outlaw and remove all the guns from this island. I would pour money, money I tell you, proper money into extra-curricular activities, arts education and arts therapy for all, especially under 18-year-olds. And I would get some of these barking, buzzing, belching vehicles off the road. So I can write and dream and do in peace. So we can all wuk and dream and be in peace.
Words for future Barbados? Imagine a time when your neighbour could ask for some ripe golden apples off your tree. Of course you say yes! They send back a pitcher of apple juice along with pears from their tree. You send back a breadfruit or some limes. Barbados needs to step back to that time...and then step forward.
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Find out more about the 4 Love of Barbados project here.
Read responses by 4LB participants here.
Submit your own 4LB prose-poem!
