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In The Wings of Reggae :
Muta Baurka in Concert and Poetry in Prisons Workshop (Poetry Heals)
by Jolivette Anderson
"God is not in the sky, look beside you right now, there is God
especially if you are looking at a woman ."
Muta Baruka
Concert at Slim's in San Francisco
September 4, 2002
These are the words the women and young girls I worked with in the
San Francisco jails needed to hear. Had they ever seen God in
themselves? My time in the Bay Area was almost done. Just two more
days and I would be on a plane back to Mississippi. How would I know if
the workshop did what it was suppose to do? Muta reminded me with those
words as I sat in awe of him as he performed, and I took those words with
me like armor into the workshops for the rest of m time there.
You may remember him as Shango from Haile Gerima's movie ' Sankofa'.
His beauty and strength jumps from the screen and speaks to the very
soul. He is majesty and he has been true to himself, his word and his
art form for many years.
The initial meeting happened quite by accident. I was in Ocho Rios
in July 2000 as entertainment for a local travel group, relaxing by the
pool and checking out a local vendor's merchandise. I mentioned that I
was a poet and the vendor asked if I knew of the Dub Poet, Muta Baruka.
"Of course, I know of him, I love Muta's work, I replied. "Well, he
does his radio program at Irie FM up the way tomorrow night, you should
call him,' and that is just what I did.
I called IRIE FM to inquire about visiting the show and the
receptionist said, just come on by tomorrow. I thought this kind of
strange, though it is the norm for me to welcome folks who stop by, but
the sister thought I was a scheduled guest and Muta knew nothing of me.
For all he knew, I was some nut off the street, but he welcomed me into
the studio, and I was afforded the opportunity to sit in his presence
while he did his program "The Cutting Edge". Since one of his scheduled
guest fell ill and was not able to do the show, Muta graciously invited
me to share a poem and to discuss issues with the listeners. I was so
honored I completely forgot about the sun and the sand and beaches and
the beauty of Jamaica. I had just sat in the company of greatness.
Fast forward to September 2002. I am in Los Angeles, California
doing a mini tour of poetry venues hosted by my friend and sister Nikki
Skies. She is doing her sassy brand of hosting at Giancarlos ,
introduces me and after I do my thing, this humble soul graces the
stage. His name is Carlos Mena and he gets my immediate attention
because he is saying Hip-Hop lyrics but the music reminds me of Orisha
music. Then he breaks his introduction to pay homage to the ancestors ,
and I know that I am at home away from home. I call my elder back in
Mississippi and tell her to listen through the cell phone. She reminds
me of the law of attraction. Wherever I go, I meet folk who are on the
same path. I find out that Carlos is from Oakland and we exchange
numbers because I am to conduct workshops for the next two weeks in San
Francisco to women and female juveniles in jail. (See additional post
for detail of prison work).
When I get to San Francisco, the work in the Women's City Jail puts
me in the direct communication line with another elder, Sister Avotcja.
She is a poet, radio personality and the 'realist' sister I know. I
meet her at Milestones where she teaches a poetry class to ex-offenders.
I tell her about the happenings in LA and mention Carlos' work because I
was blown away with his honesty in the embracing of his culture in his
art. We hang out at the Java House to do some poetry and Carlos is
there. She tells us to stop by her radio program on Friday and she does
an hour show with both of us on KPOO, a black owned radio station in San
Francisco, one of the few black owned stations left in the country.
Over the next week, Avotcja and I hang out at the Oakland Art &
Soul Festival (I miss Ishmael Reed by about an hour and I kick myself) ,
and we make plans for me to conduct her class on the following Wednesday
at Milestones. I get a call from her saying, " Muta Baruka and Michael
Rose are performing at Slim's tonight. Let's do dinner and check out the
show after you teach the class." I am in heaven and this woman is an
angel, if not the feminine aspect of God, Herself.
She picks me up from the jail and takes me to an art exhibit. One
of the pieces is a small house with a picture of Elegba on it. I get a
surge of energy when I walk by it, and I realize for the first time that
I don't know how to decipher whether energy is positive or negative well
enough to protect myself from harm. For so long I have been caught up
in the fact that I could feel it. Now I need to give meaning to what I
feel.
We eat at Saigon, a Vietnamese restaurant and the Lemon Grass
Chicken tastes so good, I feel my whole body relax and a feeling of
euphoria takes over. We are relaxed and she pulls her poem out that
deals with her battle with MS. The poem is so vivid and raw I tell her
"Your battle with MS (Multiple Scorosis) is like my battle with MS
( Mississippi)." She says, "It (the poem) could be looked at like that,"
and we both acknowledge our growth and what I interpret as our fear of
the unknown.
We make our way to the class. I perform poetry and facilitate a
discussion with the brothers that came on this night. They are in
transition and we keep it real. We talk about the stereotypes, the word
" nigga" and how we use language to give us our definition but we should
give ourselves the meaning of who and what we are. There is a
peacefulness in the room. A calm of undetermined magnitude. A peace
that waged war against the pain we all had felt at some point in our
lives from having been told we were black and ugly. We addressed it and
now it can no longer control us and cripple us to the point of addiction
and rage because now we know and now we know better.
We leave the class. We rush to get our seats and promptly at 9pm
the opening act , Reggae Revolution, takes the stage. They are
phenomenal. Music and vocals are crisp and exciting. I could tell they
work many hours before coming to the stage, and I appreciated their
artistry.
Next on stage is my hero, Dub Poet, Muta Baruka. His new CD, Life
Squared is in stores now and we have been playing his remake of the
classic " Dis Poem", the poem "The Monkey (Speaks His Mind), "What
Gwaan" and others for a couple of months on the Reggae Jam Session
( www.wmpr901.com on the weekends at midnight), but I had never seen Muta
perform live. I made my way to the front of the stage and when he
entered, I began to mouth each word to his poetry. At that point, I felt
I had reached near "groupie" status, but I did not care. I go into a
frenzy when truth is being spoken to my soul. I stood guilty when he
lambasted all of the 'meat eaters' and I stood proud when he proclaimed,
"God is not in the sky, look beside you right now and there is God
especially if you are standing beside a woman." Muta cuts to the
core on stage and yet he remains humble. I speak with him briefly and
he tells me he was in South Africa, but the venue is so noisy, I can't
hear him well. Hopefully, I can interview him at a later time to get
the full story of that experience.
I met Muta's daughter and band members. The lead guitar play ,
Marcus Gordon, has a Jazz Reggae CD titled Jamaican Flora. We have
already begun to play in on the Reggae Jam Session. It is mellow and has
its own healing power.
Muta Baruka is a great artist because he is a great human being who
is not afraid to be who and what he is, human and divine. His credits
are many, and I highly recommend purchasing his latest CD. The lyrics
have meaning and make you think about the condition in Jamaica but also
the human condition. The music ranges from sounds to make you sway to
sounds that make you dance. You can't lose with this one if you love
poetry and music. He along with others in the Caribbean work to keep
poetry and music fusion alive. He is one of my heros.
The following night, Linton Kwesi Johnson was headlining at the same
venue, and I wanted to attend so desperately but could not make it. That
blessing 'soon come'.
Copyright 2002
Jolivette Anderson
Jolivette Anderson is a poet, activist and educator in Jackson, MS. She
owns She Prophecy LLC and is creator of the D. Ciphers Workshop. Visit
www.jolivetteanderson.com
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