It was a great time. Some of the crafts my age group made included : scrap mats, clay pots, coconut jewelry boxes, and banana bark save alls. An exhibition was held the last day of the camp which included performances and an display of all the participants work.
Pics by Ticky Herbert
It is magical what happens when you allow the imagination to run free. Especially in young people. I had to keep reminding some of the adults that guidance and feedback is cool but instead of telling the participants exactly how their artwork should look or that it has too much of this or not enough of that, instead we should encourage them to take their time and do their best. However their work turns out is their own little masterpiece inspired from within.
It was powerful to see the kids go from complaining the first few days after an hour of work " Miss my hand hurts, Miss this boring!, Miss we got to finish this entire thing???", to shortening their break and lunch time to put in extra work into their projects by the end of the camp!
Choral Speech
One of the poems my age group recited as a group speech
One of the poems my age group recited as a group speech
De Company Fu Keep ( Grandmother's Advice)-
by a Vincentian writer, I cannot remember her name. Will update when I locate it.
"This poem includes many of the local expressions and philosophy handed down from generation to generation. A girl who begins to behave like her unruly friends is sent to live in a remote part of the country with her stern grandmother. she is only allowed to return home when she "know her place" or in other words, learns her respect." - Author
I encourage everyone to give it a go and read this outloud to someone :) It was pretty entertaining to rehearse this with the kids. It was a difficult read even for those who regularly speak local dialect/ Vincentian Creole (still not sure what to call it, I hear various terms).
Me muma tell me puppa
Me wark wid bad company,
An is like water pan duck back,
When she ah tark to me,
Dem say dat me go bring dem
Only shame and disgrace,
Me mus go stop wid megranmuma,
Until me know me place.
Me frien an dem na jail bud,
Dem nar smoke marijuana,
Dem nar thief poor people ram goat,
An dem na murderer.
Dem only stone dung mango, Antruckshon, an talk slack,
An got dem little boy frien,
Behin dem parents back.
So dem pack me Georgie bundle,
An sen me ah Fancy,
Go spen time wid me granmuma,
Till she tark sense into me.
Dem say she na go tolerate
None ah me waywudniss,
An if me ge she back answer,
She go meck me see start pitch.
Granma treat me nice one month,
An meck me feel so great,
But when me start to get outalone,
She tell me watch yo gait!
Me haffu tell she way megwine,
When me gwine fu a wakr,
Way me bin, an who an me bin,
When me come back befo dark.
Me Granma size me up, an den,
She put me fu siddnug,
An tell me, me mus change me course,
An me life arung.
She say company ah carry me,
But dem nar bring me,
An follow fashin dog,
Mus ketch mangie.
She say me na fu truckshon,
Me haffu cut it out,
An me haffu drop dem brawling friends,
Who like fu knack about.
But ah too much tongue e got
An, ah kay “K” na kay meck e back bruck.
Me spen six months widGrarma,
An me hear way Grama say,
An den she sen me home back,
An me wark straight till today.
Me ha respeck fu older heads,
At night me parents can sleep.
Becausen, now, me understand,
De company fu keep.
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