Rawpoliticsjamaicastyle’s Weblog
Critically Examining Jamaican and World Politics!Archive for class
Daggerin’ and the Dancehall: The Politics of Representation
From all appearances, Daggerin’ has gone global and members of the international press are very much interested in covering it. Between the BBC and NEWSWEEK.com and also Youtube, there is no want of international attention on this issue. In fact, I too was recently solicited for an interview from a writer from NEWSWEEK.com. I was invited to speak in my capacity as a ‘writer/ critic’ (blogger) of Dancehall, from the ‘inside’. Unfortuantely, however, we seemed unable to coordinate our schedules. In between returned Facebook messages and phone calls by me, the story went to press without my inputs.
The article was an interesting account of the Daggerin’ dance phenomenon in Jamaica and also gave some implications for how the male sex organ may be damaged during these high voltage and very physical performances, as well as gestured to poverty here. A number of Jamaican sources, as well as one American doctor from Baylor Medical Centre were cited. The range of perspectives included known academics, to sound system operators and at least one other blogger. Entitled: ‘Really, Really Dirty Dancing: More On Daggering’ (http://blog.newsweek.com/blogs/thehumancondition/archive/2009/06/08/really-really-dirty-dancing-more-on-daggering.aspx), the narrative focussed on the dance form as especially sexy and provocative.
From all appearances, Daggerin’ has gone global and members of the international press are very much interested in covering it. Between the BBC and NEWSWEEK.com and also Youtube, there is no want of international attention on this issue. In fact, I too was recently solicited for an interview from a writer from NEWSWEEK.com. I was invited to speak in my capacity as a ‘writer/ critic’ (blogger) of Dancehall, from the ‘inside’. Unfortuantely, however, we seemed unable to coordinate our schedules. In between returned Facebook messages and phone calls by me, the story went to press without my inputs.
The article was an interesting account of the Daggerin’ dance phenomenon in Jamaica and also gave some implications for how the male sex organ may be damaged during these high voltage and very physical performances, as well as gestured to poverty here. A number of Jamaican sources, as well as one American doctor from Baylor Medical Centre were cited. The range of perspectives included known academics, to sound system operators and at least one other blogger. Entitled: ‘Really, Really Dirty Dancing: More On Daggering’ (http://blog.newsweek.com/blogs/thehumancondition/archive/2009/06/08/really-really-dirty-dancing-more-on-daggering.aspx), the narrative focussed on the dance form as especially sexy and provocative.
The story also highlighted some other key issues, primary among them the fact that Jamaica has, increasingly, come to be regarded in the international media as a (very) stratified society, in which concerns about class and access have very real implications for how the society works. Indeed, insofar as the author moves between the various sources referenced, shows what is potentially the very complex nature of Dancehall in Jamaica and, quite possibly, Jamaican culture, itself.
Still, there is a very real question which came to mind head after I read the story. What is the objective of the message regarding the stratified nature of Jamaican society and ultimately, the story? Is it aimed at highlighting the imbalances, in terms of how that presents Government with real obstacles for solving crime, or for that matter increasing the education budget and the levels of access which are had by those at the lowest levels in the system?
Or, could it be that by drawing attention to the stratified nature of Jamaica, it also highlights how the economy seems to be stagnating, even before the the current fallouts caused by the contraction of the world economy, globally? If so, then there are ideal opportunities for a discussion about Dancehall and its role in Jamaica, at this time.
If not, then there is need to further contextualise Dancehall and the phenomenon of Daggerin’, by extension; in part, because acts of representation are almost always political, especially those involving sex and sexuality. It behooves us ‘insiders’, then, to continue this very important dialogue, in an effort to widen out the discussion from just a narrow focus on sex and, in particular, damaged male organs, poverty and crime. After all, there is more to Jamaica than just this. Isn’t there?
The explanations offered, not so much in the story itself, but by some of the sources referenced regarding poverty in Jamaica, did not sufficiently interrogate the significance of that reality for Jamaican culture, or for that the culture of the ‘masses’. How is Dancehall produced and what does it mean for Jamaica’s own development as a ‘middle income country’, according to the designation of some multi-lateral lending agencies? Are those even applicable questions in this context?
Also curious is the seeming facination with the highly charged and very sexual nature of the Daggerin’ dance. This is not to suggest that Daggerin’ is not worthy of such importance as a discussion by the international press. However, it must be asked whether these media reports do not also help to reinforce a view of Jamaica as an especially sexually permissive place; where people are so destitute, marginalised and disempowered that their only means of survival is engaging in apparently lewd dances, at nights? The goal of which, it appears, is to seduce specific audiences whose main aim it also seems, is to voyeuristically consume Daggerin’ for purposes often disguised under the rhetoric of ‘research’, or even ‘curiousity’.
Why are poor, disenfranchised youth in the ghettoes of Kingston and elsewhere in Jamaica pushed to choreograph such explicit and provocative types of dances? Do these forms of entertainment have any implications for their real lives in a ’stratified’Jamaican society? If not, then perhaps some of the bemused facination also require further exploration.
Of critical importance here, is a kind of middle-class logic which also seems bent on promoting an image of Jamaica almost as if to excuse the fact that the Daggerin’ dance not only simulates violent sex but is also very dangerous. The story did not, in my view at least, appear to give a simultaneous qualification that such dances, when consumed in a generalised context often breach codes of responsibility and civility.
Questions about the civic responsibilities of these very adult entertainers are not just about an effort to side against ‘poor people’; that is, in their push to eke out an existence, however marginal in class obsessed Jamaica. Nor is it a prudish, if not irrational attempt at controlling those who would otherwise exist in the unbridled freedoms of their sexualities, if even at the level of ritualising such liberation through dance. Indeed, whereas the over sexualisation of our children may not seem like much to frown at in the ‘dance and do what you feel like’ atmosphere which currently characterises the society, the breakdown in Jamaican family structures, over time, coupled with the ever increasing, if not alarming reports of illiteracy at particular grade levels, among other related factors should allow us pause in this discussion.
In fact, it is especially curious that most of those who would make remarks about censorship are often also able to shield their own charges from the direct effects of this kind of ‘cultural’ broadsiding, in which young girls are encouraged to dance on their heads, feet splayed wide for various men to entertain themselves with carefree abandon. Such was the opening of the Newsweek article. This is not to say, though, that this position strictly limited Jamaican middle-class notions of ‘freedom’. However, it is to make the point that, in many respects, Dancehall is very adult entertainment. A fact that is sometimes forgotten in the traditional haste to brand it, not only as popular but oppressed culture.
Beyond the health implications for broken penises and the near death defying stunts, as explained in the Newsweek story, little is mentioned about the links between dancing and the presumed permissiveness of black sexualities, historically. How does that impact questions of medical care for the growing numbers of teen pregnancies, sexual assaults and also the spread of HIV-AIDS, especially amongst economically and socially depressed communities? And, is there also a need to identify such meanings in the context of the toursim discourse of sun, sand, sea and sex for which Jamaica is known?
These issues are not just simple matters of relativising Daggerin’ with similarly licentious displays of middle-class Carnival-type ‘wining’, which itself further complicates such concerns. On the contrary, issues about Daggerin, insofar as dances like these place Jamaica in the spotlight of international attention, have very real implications for how development is considered here.
Regardless of whether Dancehall sees itself as having a crucial part to play in this conversation, however, does not change the fact that it has also achieved a kind of notoriety for which Jamaica has also become branded. As I have argued before in this forum, as well as elsewhere, there is no escaping the Dancehall’s need to rehabilitate its public image, whetherat the local and or international levels. This is, in part, because the time for matured responsibility has long been upon us.
Dancehall is one of the important ways in which international audiences think about Jamaica and Jamaican culture. The focus on the sexual permissiveness of its proponents, at the level of dance, coupled with the emphasis on homophobic violence and the general sense of mayhem often sits at odds with the ‘paradise’ motif with which Jamaica has been ubiquitously referenced in the tourism discourse of Government. Going by this conception of Dancehall alone, Jamaicans hardly seem like a serious people ready to embrace the complex realities around us and in which we also live.
On the contrary, an image of Jamaica as having a devoted penchant for extreme/ x-rated partying and also, a presumed hatred of sexual minorities, itself, characterised by constant sectoral violence/ turf wars has become part of the signifiers by which we are known, internationally. This was also referenced in the article.
The debate around Dancehall is also a discussion about where Jamaica now finds itself in the international human development indices, in many ways. This is not to suggest that, Dancehall’s producers and consumers must change, by necessity, to suit the whims of Government, insofar as it may be percieved to be failing at these responsibilities. Far from it! The marketing, production and consumption of Dancehall do not exist in isolation of other realities with which Jamaica also grapples, whether as a government and, or a nation.
Daggerin’ and other such explicit dances mask some very serious concerns about and within Jamaica; that is, if we were to look closer. Significantly more harm than good will be done to both Dancehall and Jamaica too, if this is not acknowledged as important in the inter/national narratives of awe and bemused, if not defensive ‘curiousity’ used to articulate Dancehall’s identity, whether to ourselves and or the world.
The problem is not that others write about us, but that they do not seem to either understand the realities of life here or are not as invested in doing so, necessarilly. We are obligated to pen our own histories from our own vantage points, as a result! Failure to do so will, undoubtedly, be a very costly mistake later on up the road! Such is the nature of representations of this kind, which are never without their accompanying and intractable politics.
Critiquing Human Rights in Jamaica: Who Gets to Speak and What is Its Actual Value?
Traditionally, the discussion of human rights in Jamaica has been conducted in what may be considered ‘the privileged voice’. This speaks to the privileged positions occupied, in many ways, by those Jamaicans who set themselves up as ‘the authority’. This extends even in the case of Jamaicans who live outside of the country. The privileged voice, therefore, gets to set the tone of the discussion, if not the discussion itself and arrogate unto itself the wherewithal to determine who has access to the conversation and who does not – a kind of gate-keeping practise like we have never seen before!
In that regard, if you are not considered part of the inner-circle of the ‘privileged voice(s)’ then your position is largely seen as hostile, if not counter productive in terms of how this conversation on (human) rights is constructed and performed here. A case in point is a recent exchange between myself and some members of human rights groups in Jamaica, on Face Book. Without expounding on those details, several attempts were made in different ways to ridicule, if not censure the fact that I openly acknowledged, as I have also done previously, that I am not a member of any known and or named human rights group in Jamaica.
Obviously, my lack of direct involvement in the human rights community in Jamaica does not preclude me from commenting, substantively, on this very important issue which affects us all, however. Indeed, the impression that only, if not mostly, those with a known track record on human rights issues in Jamaica are either able to comment fulsomely on its implications in this country or for that matter offer solutions is plainly wrong. Thus, it relegates those percieved to be on the ‘outside’ to a defensive posture in this very important discussion, wherein they are constructed as either threatening and or counter productive to the goals of the movement.
This position is, of course, largely inaccurate and definitely insiderist. Its sole aim is to politicise poverty to the extent that it is set up as in explicitly dichotomous relationship with the state vis-a-vis human rights (organisations). Here, ‘Government’ is perceived as almost always complicit in strangling the personal and other freedoms of a particular kind of ‘poor people’ and as result, is directly implicated in the high rates of murder exhibited each year in Jamaica, especially those committed by the Jamaican Constabulary Force (JCF). Thus, perceived the JCF is, by and large, construed as the enemy of ‘poor people’.
Consequently, those sent to save us all from this unfortunate cocktail of oppression, murder and despair are a select group of people with credentials which largely mark them as ‘uptown’, if not ‘upper middle class’ Jamaicans. Indeed, there is nothing, necessarily wrong with this reality in and of itself. This is in the sense in which the police are often implicated in some especially heinous crimes which the news media does not hesitate to bombard us with each evening. Thus, it is important that a dedicated group of volunteers and non-Governmental Organisations, with both the resources and time, are devoted to addressing this cause.
Still, the references/ registers in which human rights are encoded in Jamaica nonetheless warrant questioning. This is epecially in terms of how human rights groups in Jamaica impact the development of a functioning and functionable civil society; that is, one which empowers regular, ordinary citizens with the aim of including them in the process of goverance at various levels. It may, therefore, be argued that through their own actions; however noble, the near universal focus on seeing Government as the enemy and, rarely, ever including the voices of (poor) people directly impacted by the causes they champion, human rights groups inadvertently sideline and or stifle the development of a functioning civil society in Jamaica.
Human rights continues to be a devalued conversation/ topic of interests in Jamaica, in part, because it is largely seen as only advocating the views of otherwise intolerable values and attitudes, such as claiming rights for known murderers and other anarchists in the state, including homosexuals. This is not to say that I agree with this position, however. On the contrary, it is argue that, in Jamaica any unofficial poll of the so-called ‘man in the streets’ would confirm that this is not only the common perception there is also a great deal of concern and anxiety over how to treat with these matters, especially where people seem to have less and less faith in the ‘Government’ to provide meaningful answers to their plights, currently.
In that regard, claims made by some members of the referenced Face Book conversation that, a Don Anderson poll found that 43% of Jamaicans do not care about whether someone was murdered, presumably, in cold blood are to be rigourously questioned. This is because it implies that, Jamaicans do not care about (each other) which also, presumably, explains the reasons why murders occur with such impunity in the society and, perhaps also why human rights groups face such a hard time winning support for their cause. Hence, there is no end in sight for the meoteric murder rate, in terms of the needless loss of seemingly expendable, black lives, especially those in Downtown, Kingston.
Significantly, these figures do not define how ‘care’ is operationalised, as well as the implications which follow from such a conclusion. Indeed, they do not even make a connection between why people would not be concerned about as obviously as distressing a matter such as crime and violence here, whether that presumably sanctioned by the state or for that matter random or even calculated acts of violence conducted by person outside of that group. Consequently, there is need for greater awareness building, in terms of working with institutions like the media, church groups, community based organisations and others to celebrate successful human rights cases as a way of raising the profile of the disussion.
Further, any suggestion that we are somehow unable to initiate a ‘culture of peace’ with the now, obviously, unacceptable ‘culture of violence’ which suppousedly characterises all of Jamaican society through negotiation and partnership is flawed. Certainly, no one is suggesting that this be the only approach, nor that we meet and engage in discussions with known criminals. However, there is much value in the way of real engagement between traditionally warring factions, especially in cases where there are areas of common interests.
A more gentle approach which does not seek to demonise all with whom it does not agree must also be considered. This requires real commitment and not half hearted attempts which go no further than merely expressing alarm over vioent incidents. After all, so long as they do not touch us then all is well. It is important to note therefore that, human rights are rights not just limited to violent murders ‘Downtown’, but also involves the systemic and entrenched economic and class systems which orchestrate the untimely destruction of innocent Jamaican lives and also life chances.
With respect, therefore, making a great noise about crime in Jamaica and engaging in long, impassioned discussions about just how ‘unacceptable’ it all is, as representative of our frustrations with the current state of affairs does not truly help. If there are no reasons to be hopeful then we are all in trouble. What is then, is the track record of our successes in this area? How many human rights issues have been successfully resolved in its history in Jamaica?
And, why have we not, in addition to campaigning for the rights of others, show how these strategies have worked in the past? At what point do we recongise that, while we discuss the proverbial Rome, in this case Jamaica, burns? What then would it profit the so-called ‘regular’, ‘ordinary’ Jamaican to sit back and callously enjoy the savage murder of other innocent Jamaicans? The traditional view of ‘poor people’ as ‘victims’ and police officers as ‘bullies’ and the state as supportive of/ enabling this narrative, in which police excesses are excused under the rubric of some spurious ‘investigation’, continues the trajectory in which the skills necessary for coping with the problems in the society are ignored.
As a result, the question of the successful examples is a valid one because, whether we are still caught in the trap of the colonial militia set up to immobilise poor, disenfranchised black people, historically, we still need to have hope! How do we get ‘buy-in’ and build consensus through actual empowerment? Where are the solutions from the people who are also directly affected by these harsh realities? And, why is it that, to suggest that there is need for this kind of broad based partnership, at the levels at which civil society plays a greater role, if even facilitated by the state, are not usually seen as legitimate options? Could it be that we do not want solutions? Or, is that, we have also given up hope? Lost sight of our commitment to service? Service, after all, encompasses even the difficult and trying times and the perseverance that comes with the hope of success.
Who wants to fight if there is no end is sight? Who wishes to make time for causes that have no heroes; no faces to celebrate in order to galvanise further support, if even at grassroots levels? What of the views of the mothers, sisters, brothers, fathers and communities in pain? Where are the job training and esteem empowerment workshops that will equip disadvantaged and at risk people with new skills to tackle the problems in their communities?
Unless there are actual solutions then this is a pointless exercise. Unless we are actually doing more than demonising Government, though they are very much deserving of that, then we are doing extremely very little. Unless we are widening out our frames of reference to see human rights as the rights of all Jamaicans, even those with other issues beyond a murdered son, or daughter then we have not yet started this especially important discussion.
Human rights include more than just a fight against homophobia; though it must have this as an important pillar of its make up. Human rights must also get to the root of the problems which give rise to these issues in the first place – the colonial patriarchal misogynistic attitudes enshrined by the state and practised as class politics in Jamaica. If we are not also engaging in this discussion and finding solutions to those problems too, then we are all dead in the water – no pun intended.
There must be more than just talk; there has also got to be action; and real action to boot!
