Parliament is the highest court (my italics) in the land, Santia Bradshaw (speaking apparently with the weight of tradition backing her) said. Somewhere else, others, with a completely different focus, said that those who have a problem with natural hair must be brought to human understanding.
I ask, how can we have the idea of separation of powers between the legislature, the executive and the judiciary enshrined in the Constitution and still say that Parliament (the legislative arm) – not some entity in the judicial system – is the highest court in the land? Others are more interested in asking, how in the year 2015 people could have a difficulty with natural hair?
Of the former matter, I further ask: Does that mean, for instance, that the issue involving the Speaker of the House must now be treated as sub judice, so when it comes to a money situation and a representative of the people, the people must shut dey mout’ (or be in contempt of something) ’cause they don’t have the privilege?
Of the latter, I ask: How, with our varying ideas and interests, and in an ever-changing world, do we arrive at what hairstyles are appropriate for school? Is it an easy task?
And more generally: Which of the two situations troubles you more?
It seems that hair would win the day. So, another question: can you say categorically – categorically!!! – what the principal of Harrison College actually said about natural hair?
This is important because, as I have pointed out before – from careful observation and study and the fact that it is not particularly well taught in schools – comprehension is not human beings’ strong suit. And especially not so if the subject is like the so-called red rag in front of a bull – who, in fact, is colour-blind.
Look, a hair matter can’t be allowed to possess people, especially the young, and especially when we say they are the leaders of tomorrow. And we en focusing them on the critical values of community? On respect for, and considerateness towards, others? Accountability in governance? High productivity? Charity? High ideals of family.
You can’t find a noble, community-critical, development-pivotal matter that brings out high passions in Barbadians like those that have risen in this hair thing. Littering? Little anger. Bullying? No rage – unless it is a family member. Poor governance (low accountability; little transparency; questionable integrity in public office; a thumbing of the nose at the people’s stake)? A few “wayward” souls troubled.
But hair? An army to the cause.
Now, people should be perturbed about affronts to Africanity. But is this assuredly the case here? And why are we so little inclined to draw, or be troubled by the failure to draw, from the more substantial wells of Africanity, seen in trespasses that we ourselves (not particularly the “enemies” of natural hair or dashikis or beads or . . . ) commit against things like brotherliness, sense of community, lofty notions of family commitment, respect for the elderly, necessary self-reliance, industriousness and so on?
In this matter I think we should remember what Jesus (some people, on the basis of believing that He didn’t exist, would dismiss my reference to Him while feeling quite comfortable quoting from some fictional character in a Dickens novel – let’s say, Mr Bumble – or a Shakespeare play – Duke Orsino, perhaps?) said about the scribes and Pharisees. He said they would make sure they strained a gnat (out of their wine) but would swallow a camel.
You know what led up to the gnat, camel bit? This: “You hypocrites . . . . You give a tenth of your spices – mint, dill and cummin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law – justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practised the latter, without neglecting the former.”
Our self-expression (identity-parading/elevating) compulsion, unaccompanied by a treasuring of loftier things, risks spawning a lack of integrity.
What if we have more interest in natural hair than in fairness or truth? What if we weighed in (waded in, too) with less interest in being fair and humane to Ms Wade and in reliably finding out what she said than in ranting about natural hair?
What if we have self-expression/African identity but no deep commitment to high ideals? What if we have identity but no charity? What if we have identity but no sterling problem-solving focus? What if we have identity but no keeping of our brother? What if we have identity but no moral compass? What if we have identity but no special place in our hearts for necessary and reasonable tolerance? What if we have identity but no zeal for justice? What if we have identity but no fellow-feeling for others (including but not limited to the Nigerians among us) in their plights?
We must not do anything to have others, especially the young, believe that identity (and self-expression that may be related to it) is the apex of anything.
While it seems that everybody and duh mother has apparently tacitly deemed identity as this overarchingly significant thing, we had better realise that identity as a fixation is a dangerous thing.
The darkest history of the world is to a large extent the history of the ravages wrought by people obsessed with identity (whether they be Germans, Americans, British, French, Christians, Muslims, communists, conservatives, liberals, this or that “tribe”) and not with other nurturing, civilising, humanising virtues. And a prime focus on identity somehow seems not to keep too much company with a focus on these even more important characteristics.
Of course, we know ’bout Whites and identity – ideas of purity of race and superiority.
And you know, too, some black people were very hostile to Whites joining Martin Luther King Jr in the fight for racial justice.
Some time ago a fella who called himself a Pan Africanist told me that “nobody looking like David Comissiong should be in black people business”.
Identity that is tied to nothing but identity is a brute of a thing.
Identity plus. Natural hairstyle (if that is your leaning) plus. Always the need for pluses that strain after something bigger, more virtuous than mere identity.
In the midst of community and polity, what are you beyond your ethnicity, your race, your country of origin, your religion, your clothes, your hairstyle? That is the real you. And it had better be profoundly edifying for others.
• Sherwyn Walters is a writer who became a teacher, a song analyst, a broadcaster and an editor. Email offwally@gmail.com.
