When I entered undergraduate studies at Glendon Hall, Toronto in 1967 I was invited that Christmas to join friends in Kingston, Jamaica. I went there with my newly acquainted colleague Bill Rutledge from Lakefield College School. One day that Christmas while driving to the home of Rolf Grant (the father of David Grant, one of my acquaintances from St. Andrew’s College) I saw that he was tending his garden. At the same time walking along the street at the front of the property was a Rastafarian gentleman. Reportedly (as we were later told by Mr. Grant in his drawing room) the Rastafarian gentleman gestured to Mr. Grant and (in a distinctive native dialect and sound) said, “K’eer it good, Boss, fo’ soon it will be mine!”
Rastafari relating to a religious movement of Jamaican origin holding that Black people are the chosen people, that Emperor Haile Selassie of Ethiopia was the Messiah, and that Black people will eventually return to their Africa.
Communal meetings are known as “groundations”, and are typified by music, chanting, discussions, and the smoking of cannabis, the latter regarded as a sacrament with beneficial properties. Rastas emphasise what they regard as living “naturally”, adhering to dietary requirements, wearing their hair in dreadlocks, and following patriarchal gender roles. In the 1960s and 1970s, it gained increased respectability within Jamaica and greater visibility abroad through the popularity of Rastafari-inspired reggae musicians, most notably Bob Marley.
Today – 57 years later – I have the undeniable privilege to account (by virtue of my age alone) that this morning while tricycling my rudimentary 4Kms up and down along the river, I encountered an elderly woman caring for her garden. In fact only recently I was told by her that her garden is flourishing following the removal of a large hedge immediately adjacent. This morning the brilliant sunshine streamed upon her garden and I invited her to pose for a deserving photograph which she gleefully (in her truly inimitable way) agreed to do.
Hearkening back for a moment (if I may) to the Rastafarian gentleman’s articulation, firstly it’s a bit gruff. I mean to say, it’s not as though the message were not loud and clear. Paradoxically I believe that in spite of its poetic and prophetic flavour, I find it offensive for the very reason I have read the Rastafarian religion emerged; viz., the British and the Church of England. British colonialism for all its value nonetheless rent a dreadful legacy. And these rising religious fictions of so-called improving merit are likewise disturbing. This is not to say there isn’t work to be done ; but diaspora (such as the emigration of Anglo-Saxons primarily to the Byzantine Empire after the Norman Conquest of England) is not in my opinion the goal.
The Norman Conquest (or the Conquest) was the 11th-century invasion and occupation of England by an army made up of thousands of Norman, French, Flemish, and Breton troops, all led by the Duke of Normandy, later styled William the Conqueror.
As chance would have it, Lakefield College School has this upon its website:
We respectfully acknowledge that Lakefield College School is located on the Treaty 20 Michi Saagiig territory and in the traditional territory of the Michi Saagiig and Chippewa Nations, collectively known as the Williams Treaties First Nations, which include: Curve Lake, Hiawatha, Alderville, Scugog Island, Rama, Beausoleil, and Georgina Island First Nations. Lakefield College School respectfully acknowledges that the Williams Treaties First Nations are the stewards and caretakers of these lands and waters in perpetuity and that they continue to maintain this responsibility to ensure their health and integrity for generations to come.
I do of course acknowledge the convenience of diaspora; but its seeming facility does not convince me of its utility. A more potent assembly of reasons for the collection of people would in my opinion by the upset of resilience and the promotion of collaboration. I mean, what are we saving it for? Noah’s Ark? Pardon the pun, but that ship has sailed!
Meanwhile in my admitted state of indolence and smug satisfaction I am content to collect these trivia to animate myself and my reckless memories. The bald truth is that, of late, I have been the happiest I can recall for years. Certainly it helps, as today, to have a dome of unblemished azure sky, a temperature reminiscent of the warmest childhood summer’s, the benefit of regular rainfall, cornstalk to the sky, fields of green soya bean leaves forming a wavering carpet to the riverbank; the view of the shimmering river in the distance; and the comfort of a chilled afternoon espresso coffee with slices of the most aged cheddar cheese from St. Albert.