Mr. Shifty Eyes died yesterday. He was with his brother when their car crashed into a house. When the paramedics arrived, they realized both of them had been shot in the head. One other student who caused so much grief during my student teaching days was shot last year in an argument over a dice game. I don’t know what I could’ve possibly done to alter the future for those young men. (See my previous blog entitled Wasted Potential Spaces)
I’ve just walked out of the art exhibit and into the main hall of the new library downtown. The distinctive sound of a jenbe drum reverberates through the main hall. Another drum answers the call from the opposite end of the hall. The two drummers “call” back and forth as they move toward each other. They’ve definitely got everyone’s attention in this space where quiet is usually enforced. When they finally come together in the center of the hall, they furiously beat out a song. When they stop, the sound still reverberates, then the crowd claps. My thought was Wow! But then I wondered where the rest of the ensemble was. My friend and I continued on our way exploring the booths that were set up for International Day. At the Korean table we had the woman spell out Welcome on paper with a brush and hand-mixed ink so we could hang the banners in our classrooms. After we’d checked out all the tables we continued exploring the new library. I was surprised to run into Akin hurrying out of a room with a young ensemble member who needed a bathroom. That was when I realized the performance twenty minutes earlier in the main hall was a call to the main performance in this room that seemed hidden away. There had been no announcement; we didn’t see any signs that would’ve directed us here to enjoy the performance. The day before my sons had come to see the Colombian dancers but had reported “there wasn’t anything going on”. Obviously, the dancing and music were taking place away from the main hall, in this room. Maybe next year this can be made clearer so that more people can enjoy them.
If there were more opportunities like the Three Rivers Jenbe Ensemble would young men like Mr. Shifty Eyes be alive today?
There was another article in the paper today about Mr. Shifty Eyes. I was surprised at what a different picture this one painted. The initial article stated that both men had felonies for various infractions and suggested incrimination but now since the second brother has died, this article was obviously written to invoke sympathy for the family. There is the mention of the men’s children; one had twin girls, the other an 11 month old. The family, consisting of 9 children with various combinations of mothers and fathers, asked for prayer. While I’m not insinuating that they’re not victims of a terrible crime, how can the character of these two men change in just two days, after they have died? Through word choice and content of what was reported, the journalists leave you to draw two very different conclusions.
Though Robert, Cindy, and I met to discuss the article “Third Space” and how to teach it, I gained some interesting insight into the article “Understanding Amsterdam”. Ever the practical, I like to figure out how the article pertained to our city. Since Robert has insight into the architectural world, I asked him what he would propose to do to reclaim the downtown area of Fort Wayne using the knowledge we’d gained from the Amsterdam article. He pointed out that Fort Wayne was originally an industrial city with its center in close proximity to the factories. Since those spaces are no longer used, where is the center of Fort Wayne? Is it Jefferson Pointe? Glenbrook? Northcrest? Do we need to revitalize an idea that’s obsolete for that particular space?
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Jambalaya
“Are you going to that Jambalaya thing again tonight?” My husband didn’t know how accurate his slipup was. Jambalaya: any miscellaneous collection or gathering. TRJE is a wonderful miscellaneous collection of people who gather together for a unified purpose. While from the outside it looks like that purpose is drumming and dancing, the inside truth is that it is so much more.
This evening I was a few minutes late but the circle always opens to let newcomers in. The lead in question was already being passed around. This time it was, “How many people have you greeted today?” I was surprised at the number of people we had all greeted. There were a few new people in the circle this time but they quickly learned by observation how to respond; “My name is ___________. I’m the daughter/son of _____________.” There was a new person sitting next to me who needed a little prompting but while she was shy in the circle she quickly overcame her shyness when she joined in the dance class. FeyFey expounded a little more on the importance of greeting people, especially in their own language. There’s that jambalaya thing again; I love it! The elders never miss a teaching opportunity. It certainly a whole lot more than drumming and dancing. He also discussed the upcoming events and broke the good news to us outsiders that tonight was a celebration in honor of Moustapha Bangoura’s return. After the dancing lesson, there would be plenty of food in the adjoining room and the next day would be a family fun day at a bowling alley. Following that announcement, everyone broke up to prepare for Mr. Bangoura’s dance class.
The usual students gathered on the dance floor to do warm ups led by Joann, one of the dance instructors. Joanne has studied dance for years and has a daughter in TRJE. There were a few potential TRJE members out on the floor and also their parents waiting in the wings. The observers are always welcome whether they know anyone involved or not. While Joanne got everyone limbered up, the drummers took instruction from Mr. Bangoura. He would demonstrate a beat or call out instructions and the drummers played accordingly. Then Moustapha joined the dancers and went through a series of new dancesteps. One of his students from Chicago had driven all the way down to help. She was an accomplished dancer who obviously had learned under Moustapha’s expert eye. The format was identical to last week. The drummers kept up a steady beat while Moustapha’s protégé demonstrated the move they would be practicing. Then a row of dancers, usually three abreast, would dance toward the drummers, break off and circle around to try again while the next rows moved up. Their instructor kept a close eye on each dancer and demonstrated by example how to improve their technique.
When class was over, we all headed next door to a wonderful spread of food that everyone seemed to have contributed to. There was chicken, ribs, macaroni and cheese, salad, rice, vegetables, fish soup, and homemade peach cobbler and banana pudding. Before we ate, the parents stood around talking amiably and then we gathered for a blessing. While we ate, I talked with some of the parents.
This evening I was a few minutes late but the circle always opens to let newcomers in. The lead in question was already being passed around. This time it was, “How many people have you greeted today?” I was surprised at the number of people we had all greeted. There were a few new people in the circle this time but they quickly learned by observation how to respond; “My name is ___________. I’m the daughter/son of _____________.” There was a new person sitting next to me who needed a little prompting but while she was shy in the circle she quickly overcame her shyness when she joined in the dance class. FeyFey expounded a little more on the importance of greeting people, especially in their own language. There’s that jambalaya thing again; I love it! The elders never miss a teaching opportunity. It certainly a whole lot more than drumming and dancing. He also discussed the upcoming events and broke the good news to us outsiders that tonight was a celebration in honor of Moustapha Bangoura’s return. After the dancing lesson, there would be plenty of food in the adjoining room and the next day would be a family fun day at a bowling alley. Following that announcement, everyone broke up to prepare for Mr. Bangoura’s dance class.
The usual students gathered on the dance floor to do warm ups led by Joann, one of the dance instructors. Joanne has studied dance for years and has a daughter in TRJE. There were a few potential TRJE members out on the floor and also their parents waiting in the wings. The observers are always welcome whether they know anyone involved or not. While Joanne got everyone limbered up, the drummers took instruction from Mr. Bangoura. He would demonstrate a beat or call out instructions and the drummers played accordingly. Then Moustapha joined the dancers and went through a series of new dancesteps. One of his students from Chicago had driven all the way down to help. She was an accomplished dancer who obviously had learned under Moustapha’s expert eye. The format was identical to last week. The drummers kept up a steady beat while Moustapha’s protégé demonstrated the move they would be practicing. Then a row of dancers, usually three abreast, would dance toward the drummers, break off and circle around to try again while the next rows moved up. Their instructor kept a close eye on each dancer and demonstrated by example how to improve their technique.
When class was over, we all headed next door to a wonderful spread of food that everyone seemed to have contributed to. There was chicken, ribs, macaroni and cheese, salad, rice, vegetables, fish soup, and homemade peach cobbler and banana pudding. Before we ate, the parents stood around talking amiably and then we gathered for a blessing. While we ate, I talked with some of the parents.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Moustapha Banguora's Dance Class
On Thursday evening, I went to observe Moustapha Bangoura teach a Community Dance class. I wasn’t sure how this would be different from the usual rehearsals since this was open for public participation. As I entered the building, Akin was bringing some equipment in. He asked if I was there to dance and while I was open minded about the possibility, I felt it might be best if I investigated just what I would be getting myself into. Also, on my way in I was able to finally meet Andy, the managing director of the group. He suggested the possibility of creating a link on the TRJE website for my blog. I decided I would have him read everything I’d written up to that point to see if he thought it would be appropriate.
The format this evening did turn out to be different than the usual Friday and Saturday rehearsals. There was no opening circle; it was run in more of a class format. The drummers were already playing and Mr. Bangoura was on the dance floor, facing the mirrors. All the participants formed rows behind him and learned by closely following his verbal and physical leads. There was a warm up in which Mr. Bangoura reminded me of Gumby, the extremely bendable rubber toy from the 60’s. Then after a few new moves that were taught strictly by imitation, the students formed rows of three to practice and showcase their new skills. While some of the other TRJE members furiously drummed, Moustapha would move across the floor toward the drummers, demonstrating one of the new dance moves. Each row of three dancers would follow, imitating him as best they could. The energy and concentration levels were intense. I stood outside, observing through a window since the participants had paid for the experience. Several of the mothers stood in the hall with me. I spoke with the mother of a 30 year old woman who had studied dance for years and even studied under Mr. Bangoura when he taught the previous fall. While she and her daughter were not members of TRJE, they seemed to have become part of this community through this experience. Agatha had taken some time out of her busy schedule to observe and also explained some of the African trip photos that were hanging in the hall. She explained how happy everyone was to see Mr. Bangoura again since so many of them had tearfully left him and his family when they’d departed from Guinea in January. Apparently, the TRJE group had felt a genuine sense of community in just the short time they had been in Africa.
The dancers continued their intense workout from 5:30 to 6:30 without much of a lull in the activity. Even the drummers had worked up quite a sweat. After a break in which everyone ran to the drinking fountain, they all formed a circle and volunteers moved into the middle to showcase their skills. There was much camaraderie and laughter. They all had a similar exuberance for the artform. While Akin had nonchalantly tried to encourage me to join in on the dancing, I realized I was definitely not in the same league. Here were people who had clearly studied dance and while I appreciate his assumption that I could participate, in reality I could no more do that than he could participate in any way in a chemistry lab with me, something I had studied for years. While we may want to become part of a community emotionally, the reality is that we may never fully realize this goal.
The format this evening did turn out to be different than the usual Friday and Saturday rehearsals. There was no opening circle; it was run in more of a class format. The drummers were already playing and Mr. Bangoura was on the dance floor, facing the mirrors. All the participants formed rows behind him and learned by closely following his verbal and physical leads. There was a warm up in which Mr. Bangoura reminded me of Gumby, the extremely bendable rubber toy from the 60’s. Then after a few new moves that were taught strictly by imitation, the students formed rows of three to practice and showcase their new skills. While some of the other TRJE members furiously drummed, Moustapha would move across the floor toward the drummers, demonstrating one of the new dance moves. Each row of three dancers would follow, imitating him as best they could. The energy and concentration levels were intense. I stood outside, observing through a window since the participants had paid for the experience. Several of the mothers stood in the hall with me. I spoke with the mother of a 30 year old woman who had studied dance for years and even studied under Mr. Bangoura when he taught the previous fall. While she and her daughter were not members of TRJE, they seemed to have become part of this community through this experience. Agatha had taken some time out of her busy schedule to observe and also explained some of the African trip photos that were hanging in the hall. She explained how happy everyone was to see Mr. Bangoura again since so many of them had tearfully left him and his family when they’d departed from Guinea in January. Apparently, the TRJE group had felt a genuine sense of community in just the short time they had been in Africa.
The dancers continued their intense workout from 5:30 to 6:30 without much of a lull in the activity. Even the drummers had worked up quite a sweat. After a break in which everyone ran to the drinking fountain, they all formed a circle and volunteers moved into the middle to showcase their skills. There was much camaraderie and laughter. They all had a similar exuberance for the artform. While Akin had nonchalantly tried to encourage me to join in on the dancing, I realized I was definitely not in the same league. Here were people who had clearly studied dance and while I appreciate his assumption that I could participate, in reality I could no more do that than he could participate in any way in a chemistry lab with me, something I had studied for years. While we may want to become part of a community emotionally, the reality is that we may never fully realize this goal.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
TRJE: After The Concert
After being out of town for five days and missing the Back From Afrika concert, I felt somewhat out of the loop but was warmly welcomed. I had arrived early again but soon Dr. Cain showed up. While we were waiting for the others to arrive, I spotted what looked like a familiar face standing alone on the other side of the room. She appeared to be a newcomer also so I went over to talk to her. I could relate to her feeling of nervousness since it is always difficult to enter a new community of any type. After talking together, I realized I had known her mother years ago when we were both La Leche League leaders. Now she had brought her son to observe and perhaps join the ensemble. He had been to the concert the previous weekend and was very interested in drumming.
Everyone seemed to arrive at the same time and we formed a large circle, seamlessly incorporating the newcomers within the group. The libation ritual began right away. This time I wasn’t the oldest person present so Akin gave permission to begin the ritual. Since it appeared the plant that was previously used had passed on over with the people we were honoring, a beautiful African violet took its place. Malik proposed the lead-in question this week: If you could go back and change one thing about your life, what would it be? This was an excellent question and caused a lot of deep thought. While some regretted the lack of time spent with family members, the majority of regrets were about not having studied hard enough in school and how that was now causing hardships. Surprisingly, a few of the students were fortunate enough to not have any regrets. Tyrone was the last to speak and he drove home the importance of living life in a way in which we will have no regrets. He pointed out how we should consider our behavior before we act, as our actions cannot be reversed. He then reprimanded the group for attitude problems they had exhibited while having their pictures taken after the concert the weekend before. He stressed the importance of the word “’ensemble” in the group’s name and how that denotes a cohesiveness among the group. Each member’s behavior is a reflection of all the others in the group. This image may be the only illustration outsiders have of the group as a whole so each member’s behavior in public is extremely important.
The group broke up and after the usual flurry of activity a circle of drummers began practicing in the main rehearsal room. Mary Ann and I noticed that some of the students were missing so we went off to find them. In the room next door, the novice drummers were being taught by Julia and Tyrone. Julia graciously invited Mary Ann and I to join them so we set up a couple drums and started pounding away. At first I was having a difficult time establishing the correct tempo but then one of the lead jenbe drummers came by with two sticks and silently (not a word was spoken) demonstrated the correct technique and tempo and with body language invited me to join in with her. When she left, I was then able to keep pace with only a few minor mixups. Some of the drummers were quite young but they worked very hard to keep time with the others. There were several other new drummers there and everyone was accepting and patient as we all struggled to master the technique. As the lunch break neared, we were each asked to play solo and we all did surprisingly well. In the hall afterward, Julia mentioned how much easier it was to work with the little ones since Mary Ann and I were present. It was then that I realized I was not just a fly on the wall, but actually performed a silent function. How many communities are we a part of in which we don’t consider our importance but in reality we would be sorely missed if we weren’t present?
Everyone seemed to arrive at the same time and we formed a large circle, seamlessly incorporating the newcomers within the group. The libation ritual began right away. This time I wasn’t the oldest person present so Akin gave permission to begin the ritual. Since it appeared the plant that was previously used had passed on over with the people we were honoring, a beautiful African violet took its place. Malik proposed the lead-in question this week: If you could go back and change one thing about your life, what would it be? This was an excellent question and caused a lot of deep thought. While some regretted the lack of time spent with family members, the majority of regrets were about not having studied hard enough in school and how that was now causing hardships. Surprisingly, a few of the students were fortunate enough to not have any regrets. Tyrone was the last to speak and he drove home the importance of living life in a way in which we will have no regrets. He pointed out how we should consider our behavior before we act, as our actions cannot be reversed. He then reprimanded the group for attitude problems they had exhibited while having their pictures taken after the concert the weekend before. He stressed the importance of the word “’ensemble” in the group’s name and how that denotes a cohesiveness among the group. Each member’s behavior is a reflection of all the others in the group. This image may be the only illustration outsiders have of the group as a whole so each member’s behavior in public is extremely important.
The group broke up and after the usual flurry of activity a circle of drummers began practicing in the main rehearsal room. Mary Ann and I noticed that some of the students were missing so we went off to find them. In the room next door, the novice drummers were being taught by Julia and Tyrone. Julia graciously invited Mary Ann and I to join them so we set up a couple drums and started pounding away. At first I was having a difficult time establishing the correct tempo but then one of the lead jenbe drummers came by with two sticks and silently (not a word was spoken) demonstrated the correct technique and tempo and with body language invited me to join in with her. When she left, I was then able to keep pace with only a few minor mixups. Some of the drummers were quite young but they worked very hard to keep time with the others. There were several other new drummers there and everyone was accepting and patient as we all struggled to master the technique. As the lunch break neared, we were each asked to play solo and we all did surprisingly well. In the hall afterward, Julia mentioned how much easier it was to work with the little ones since Mary Ann and I were present. It was then that I realized I was not just a fly on the wall, but actually performed a silent function. How many communities are we a part of in which we don’t consider our importance but in reality we would be sorely missed if we weren’t present?
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