Zeklè Arts' digital birthday is May 1st, in honour of International Workers' Day. Today I claim the title of cultural worker, handed down to me by Toni Cade Bambara, who herself adopted the title after a visit to Cuba.
A writer, like an other cultural worker, like any other member of the community, ought to try to put her/his skills in the service of the community. -Toni Cade Bambara
So what does it mean to be a cultural worker?
It means bringing beauty to the people - by creating, by maintaining traditions and bringing about new ones, and by building the institutions and communities that allow all of this to happen. Unfortunately in most places today it also means to be in a line of activity that is rarely recognized as work, as valuable, as essential. It means living at or below the poverty level and moonlighting to make ends meet.
However, I'm pretty happy with my "day job" - translating and interpreting for various institutions, businesses and community groups. Its especially satisfying to do work in my specialization (medical interpretation between Haitian Creole, English and French). This last type of work I find to be a bridge between these "two lives" of mine.
I am one of many who believe that the arts heal - various forms of expressive therapies are established professions. And I'm particularly sensitive to elements of Haitian and other Neo-African cultures that harness creative energies for positive individual and collective change. Meki Nzewi discusses this beautifully in his article Backcloth to Music and Healing in Traditional African Society. A favorite quote:
Music in traditional Africa is the science of being; the art of living with health. Music is the intangible resonance of which the human body and soul are composed: The human body is the quintessential sound instrument; the human soul is the ethereal melody. The term music here suggests the musical arts theatre of the structured musical sound, dance, dramatic arts and performance plastic arts.
A fitting introduction, then, to the Zeklè Arts blog: a chronicle of sounds, movements and words from Haiti and throughout the African diaspora.
