m ^^^^d: 1990J Festival OFAmerican Folklife Smithsonian Institution/National Park Service On the front cover: Felicia Cciines iivaves hoopri)ie lo niiike a Si. John niark'cl huskclunder ci tamarind tree in St. John. i'S. \'iriiin Islands. (Photo hy Betz Rohh)On the back cover: In a Senegalese market, this ivoiiuni displayswaist heads Cjaljali; and a variety of hairstyles braided into wigs. Tliese elements oftradilio)ialfeminine personal adornment have contributed to the Senegalese reputationfor elegance. (Photo by Andrea Snyder) 1990Festival ofAmerican Folklife June 27-July 1 / July 4-July 8 Smithsonian Institution / National Paik Service Contents Cultural Pluralism: A Smithsonian Commitment hy Robot McC. Adams 5National Parks: A Home for Cultural Expression by fcinics M. Ridoioiir 7Folklife in Contemporaiy IVlulticultural Society by Ricbcinl Kiih)i 8 U.S. Virgin IslandsFolklife of the U.S. Virgin Islands: Persistence and Creati\ity by Olivia Cadaval 18Rounding the Seine /;!' Guy Beiijanii)! 11Folk Architecture by Myron D. Jackson 28Saxanne by Ruth M. Mooloiaar 30Tea Meeting by Eulalie Rivera 32Coal Carriers by Arena Peterson 33About Man Betta Man, Fission and Fusion, and Creole,Calypso and Cultural Sur\ival in the Virgin Islands by Gilbert A. Spranve 34Were There Giants? by Gilbert A. Spranve 36SenegalTradition and Cultural Identity in Senegal by Diana N'Diaye 38Teranga Among the Wolof People by OniarMarone 48Social Beliefs and Craft Practices by Abdoti Sylla SOTraditional Education and Circumcision Among the Diolain Rural Senegal by Fulgence Sagna 53Musics of StruggleMusics of Struggle by Anthony Seeger 56Songs and Stories of Stmggle: Music and Verseas Ethical Discourse byJacquelin C. Peters 58 Festival of American Folklife ?1990 by the Smithsonian InstitutionEditor: Peter SeitelCoordinator: Arlene L. ReinigerDesigner: Carol B. HardyAssistant Designers: Jennifer Nicholson, Andras GoldingerTypesetter: Harlowe TypographyPrinter: Peake Printers Inc.Typeface: ITC GaramondPaper: Patina MatteInsert: Sundance Notefrom the Editor:The Festival helps make some of the many ways ofknowing tnith and embodying beauty a part of ournational cultural dialogue. This year, we have tried toproject that many sided dialogue into the Program Book.The sections of articles about the U.S. Virgin Islandsand Senegal have statements from two sets of authors.One article in each section is a general, inclusivestatement written by a member of our curatorial staff.Employing a point of view generally defined by Smith-sonian imperatives for "the increase and diffusion ofknowledge," the author engages in the characteristicpractices of the Festival. These include: identifying andvalorizing traditional cultural practices; explaining themprimarily in historical, economic and social terms;replying to popular stereotypes and supplanting themwith empirically derived characterizations; representinggeographically and historically bounded cultural wholes.The other statements are written by authors from thegeographic areas featured? the U.S. Virgin Lslands andSenegal. These articles are more richly detailed. Theyaddress a variety of audiences, reply to a variety of im-plicit and explicit assertions, and are couched in avariety of styles. They have, of course, been solicited,selected and edited? processes which are ineluctablybased in our Institutional practice. We hope that in spiteof this practice, and also in some degree because of it,these short critical pieces do incorporate a variety ofvoices speaking on noteworthy aspects of folklife. In this sense, the organization of this year's ProgramBook represents the practice of the Festival as a whole.The dialogue of viewpoints, of understandings and ofcultural styles strengthens the disccuirse of our nationalcultural Institution. Cultural Pluralism:A Smithsonian CommitmentRobert McC. AdamsSecretaiy, Smithsonian InstitutionIn the United States today there is increasingawareness and debate about questions of cul-ture. The terms "multicultural" and cultural "diversity," "equity," "conservation," "sunivai"and "pluralism" are becoming part of public discourseas national and local institutions evaluate their mis-sions, audiences and constituencies. The SmithsonianInstitution has made cultural pluralism a high priorityfor the decade ahead in its research, exhibits, pro-grams, staff and audience. This is a complex goal andthis year's Festival, as those in the past, helps us topursue its many facets.In its original charter, the Smithsonian is dedicatedto the broad dissemination of knowledge. More than25 million people visited the Smithsonian museumslast year. Millions more read books published bySmithsonian Institution Pre.ss, watched "SmithsonianWorid" on television, listened to Smithsonian Folk-ways Records, attended Resident or National Associateprograms, visited SITES exhibits in local museums orread Smithsonian magazine. One aspect of culturalpluralism is the democratization of access to knowl-edge: the Institution's audience should not be limitedby cultural, economic, and geographic boundaries.We must be everyone's \nsX\\.u\km.But pursuing cultural pluralism invtjlves more thanindicating a willingness to admit ever>'one or encour-aging wider audience development. Our exhibits needto reflect adequately the many American stories,songs, works of art, technological developments andbodies of wisdom created by the populace of thenation, and those of the world as well. People need tosee themselves, their communities and their historiesin our museums often enough to have confidence thattheir voice is being heard and understood in a national,even international forum.The pursuit of cultural pluralism reaches beyondexhibitions and programs to the ways in which theyare conceived. In the humanities, social and evennatural sciences, new or alternative perspectives broughtby scholars from traditionally under-represented na-tions and cultures make major contributions to ourcollective knowledge. Focusing new perspectives on old areas enhances the process of creating newLmderstandings, new paradigms, new- visions. This isespecially true when research is translated into exhi-bitions and programs. Scholars and others versed inthe culture of those represented must have a \oice inhow that representation is accomplished. Including\oices of the "studied" does not diminish the respon-sibility of curators and researchers to use their knowl-edge. Rather it challenges them to engage in a dia-logue or even multilogue, so that different types ofknowledge and understanding may emerge. Broaden-ing our staff to include researchers and lay scholars ofdiverse backgrounds is not onlv ethically correct ? itis also good for scholarship.The Festival of American Folklife, the annual exten-sion of the Smithsonian onto the National Mall of theL'nited States, is a long lived national and internationalmodel for the research and presentation of livingculture. It is an example of cultural pluralism in re-search, exhibition development and public education.This year, programs on the folklife of the U.S. VirginIslands, the cultures of Senegal, and the Musics ofStruggle present people who have much to say aboutthe cultures they represent, but whose voices may notbe frequently heard in national or international cul-tural fonims. Field research to develop these programswas conducted largely by academic and lay scholarsfrom the U.S. Virgin Islands, Senegal, and the featuredcommunities, and usually in close collaboration withlocal cultural institutions. Program interpretation ismulti\ocal, as tradition bearers, local scholars andSmithsonian curators speak for themselves, with eachother, and to the public. Together they create a rich,pluralistic and knowledgeable perspective.The U.S. Virgin Islands is a U.S. territory and amulticultural American sociery in the Caribbean Sea.Its culture reflects the continuity of African and Euro-pean traditions, their creolization, or amalgaination,into new forms in the cmcible of intense political andeconomic interaction, and the influence of morerecent immigrants from Puerto Rico and the easternCaribbean. Yet within this cultural diversity. Virgin Is-landers recognize a unity born of intimate island community life. People in the U.S. Virgin Islandsunderstand one another and the complex ways inwhich their roots are entwined. Rich traditions deriv-ing from home life, the market, plantation slavery andresistance to it, fishing, local and international tradeinspire pride in Virgin Islanders. These island-born tra-ditions are of increasing importance in a world pene-trated by an impersonal mass culture not of their ow^nmaking. But Virgin Islanders have also projected theirskill and knowledge beyond their shores. Because oftheir relatively early struggles for freedom (emancipa-tion from slavery was won in 1848) and their skill insuccessfully managing a multicultural environment.U.S. Virgin Islanders have played major roles on themainland. Individual Virgin Islanders contributed tothe Harlem Renaissance, the formation of the Brother-hood of Sleeping Car Porters and to realignments inNew York City urban politics ? cultural, social andpolitical movements which mark important develop-ments in modern American history.From Senegal to the Festival come exemplars oftraditions that reveal historical development withinancient West African empires and the civilizations theynurtured. Senegal too is a multi-ethnic democraticsociety; it is joined together by national institutions andtraditional values deriving from Islamic, sub-SaharanAfrican, and European sources. Traditions of praisesinging, storytelling, healing, weaving, hair braiding,and metal smithing enact and promulgate ethics ofsocial responsibility, personal integrity, and the dignityof self within a spiritual framework. The embodimentsof these values are important for contemporary' Sene-galese; they also can be keys to a complex history thatconnect Americans to their roots in West Africa. ManyAfricans brought to the Americas in the slave tradecame from Senegal and nearby coastal regions of WestAfrica. The cultural continuity of the African diasporain the Americas is still evident in traditions such asspirit stilt dancing and hair braiding practiced in bothSenegal and the U.S. Virgin Islands. Bni iiansi stories.West African moral tales about humans and animals,are still told in the Virgin Islands and in the AmericanSouth. In the Georgia Sea Islands and in coastal South Carolina they are told in GuUah, a language with WestAfrican roots that provides the grammatical basis forBlack English. And there is a Senegalese tale about theManding King Aboubacar 11 who set off westwardacross the Atlantic with two thousand canoes severalhundred years before Columbus. Whether or not hisfleet arrived is unknown. But that spirit of exploration,which aKso placed Senegalese in a network of traderoutes through the Sahara to the Mediterranean, todaymotivates a generation of Senegalese-American immi-grants to enter U.S. universities, participate in theprofessional work force and contribute to commercialand street markets in New York, Washington, D.C.,and Atlanta.In the Musics of Struggle program, we learn how-different communities, in the United States and abroad,use traditional music, song, chant and movement tomake their voices heard. In recent years we have seenprofound changes in the social order resulting frommobilizations of popular support. Traditional musichas taken on a dramatic, culturally dynamic role insome of these mobilizations. Old songs and tunesnewly recontextualized or revalorized provide a linkbetween the continuity of the past and the challengeof the present. Sometimes we forget how powerful themusic can be which articulates a sense of moralpurpose and moves a community, a people or a nationto transform itself. This program demonstrates thatpower to transform, from the songs of the FreedomSingers to the chants, in sign language, of students inGallaudet's "Deaf President Now" Movement.While the Festival gives us a means to comprehendcultural pluralism and distinctiveness, it also presentshistorical contiguities and functional similarities in cul-ture. We can see the role that music plays in many com-munities, nations and cultures. We can understand therelationship of tradition to understanding history andinforming social action. We can find connections andresemblances across oceans and centuries. But most of all. at the Festival we experience cultural expression,encounter creativity, and meet the people who canhelp us explore them. National Parks : A Home ForCultural ExpressionJames M. RidenourDirector, National Park Sei'viceMost people think of museums as store-houses of objects and the Smithsonian,especially, as the steward of our nation'smaterial treasures ? the Hope diamond,the Wright brothers' airplane, the original Star SpangledBanner. In a like manner, most think of the NationalPark Service as the steward of our nation's natural andcultural treasures? Yellowstone National Park, GrandCanyon National Park, the Statue of Liberty, the LincolnMemorial. But the Smithsonian Institution and theNational Park Service are this and more. Their missionsare not only to preserve physical objects and environ-ments but also the values embodied in the natural,cultural and historical heritage that gives meaning to ourlife as a nation and as a people.In the Festival of American Folklife we ffirm apartnership in which we present living cultural trea-sures ? exemplary musicians, craftspeople, storytell-ers, cooks, and other cultural specialists? to the nation.Through living exhibitions of their skills, knowledgeand artistry we expect that a broad public will learnabout the different traditions, cultures and people thatcomprise our nation and the wodd. 'We expect that theFestival will bring people closer together, helping usunderstand one another. 'We also expect that theFestival will have an effect "back home"? encouragingfeelings of community self-worth and pride.The National Park Service also works "back home" inall parts of the country. We collaborate with many localand regional agencies throughout the United States topresent programs that testify to the richness, vitality anddiversity of America's many people and traditions. I cancite as but a few examples, the National Folk Festivalheld for the past three years at Lowell National Histori-cal Park and this year at America's Industrial Heritage Park in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, and the many presen-tations of traditional culture at Jean Lafitte National His-torical Park in Louisiana. Golden Gate National Recrea-tion Area in California, Hawai'i Volcanoes NationalPark, Chamizal National Memorial Park. Texas. BlueRidge National Parkw^ay in Virginia and North Carolina,and Cuyahoga National Recreation Area in Ohio.We are particularly happy to have joined in produc-ing the programs at this year's Festival. We share aninterest in the land and peoples of the U.S. VirginIslands. Virgin Islands National Park on St. John is abeautiful, ecologically and historically important park.Research conducted there has taught us much aboutCaribbean ecology and marine biology. A number ofhistorical sites and sugar mills have been restored so asto make the history of the Virgin Islands accessible toboth residents and visitors. And some of our NationalPark Service scholars have made contributions to thecultural and historical research that supports this Festi-val program.We also see the significance of National Parks,particularly monuments, reflected in the Musics ofStaiggle program. Often, in American public life, ourmonuments and the significance they embody becomefocal points for the mobilization of public expression.The U.S. Capitol building became a center for Gallaudetstudents to announce and advance their pressing needfor a deaf president. The Lincoln Memorial has been afocal point for the Civil Rights Movement. Unlike manynations, we take pride in this form of public discourse.It is a celebration of our political freedom. And while wemay not always agree with one another, we do agreethat our freedom of expression, through access to thesemonuments and nationally symbolic public places,must be preser\^ed ? and treasured. FoLKLiFE IN ContemporaryMulticultural SocietyRichard Kiiri)!New demographic, political, economic andecological realities have recently joined ona global scale to bring cultural issues to thefore. Talk about "culture" ? usually con-signed to the back sections of newspapers, to academiccircles and to abstract critical discussions? has recentlyemerged as a major subject of current events requiringserious and broad consideration.In the United States the 1990 Census will reveal thecontinuation of a trend toward an ethnically diversepopulation. Sometime in the middle of the next century^most Americans will be identified as of African Ameri-can, Asian American, Hispanic or other "minority" back-ground. The "majority," already a broad and variedcategory of European Americans, will have become the "minority." The implications of this demographic shift,already well along in some areas of the United States,has sparked debate on the public u,se of languages otherthan English, culturally appropriate educational strate-gies and models and standards of American nationalunity.At the same time, the economic position of Japanchallenges American models of production and man-agement. Economic differences are being discussed incultural terms, with reference to underlying ideas aboutsocial organization, attitudes toward work, and thecomparative values placed on individual and groupachievement. Culture is at the cutting edge of economicproduction ? even in the industrialized world.Matters of national unity and cultural diversity havecontinued to be major, central issues in Brazil, Canada,China, India and Indonesia, among others. But perhapsnowhere are they more pressing than in the U.S.S.R.Political perestroika has meant cultural restructuring aswell, with diverse ethnic, religious, regional and tribalgroups asserting their identities, values and institutionsin opposition to the dictates of the centralized state. Thequality and character of daily life? the locus of culturalpolicy in its true sense? is no-^v a matter of vociferousdebate.Environmental crises, especially our ability to createbut not to solve them, have prompted new examina-tions of the cultural survival of indigenous peoples and long term sustainable development (Cultural Sun'ivalQuarterly 1982 6(2), 1984 8(3), 1987 11(1)). The ongo-ing, systematic destaiction of the tropical rainforest forindustrial and agricultural purposes contrasts sharplyviith its use by its original human inhabitants. Indige-nous people of the rainforests generally have developed .systems of knowledge and resource use that conserveboth nature and culture. Traditional, local relationshipswith an environment, be it rainforest, wetland, moun-tainous region, .sea coast or other area, are most oftenmore ecologically .sound than those of acKanced indus-trial society.These events and trends are both sobering andhumbling. They remind us that grass-roots, people'sculture ? folklife ? a residual category for manydecades if not the entire century, is an important forcein the world today, directly affecting demographic, po-litical, economic and ecological change. These eventsalso suggest a future in which folklife will attain greaterrecognition and legitimacy in an increasingly multicul-tural nation and world. Folklife and the IdeologyOF Modernit\'Expressive, grass-roots culture, or folklife, is lived byall of us as members of ethnic, religious, tribal, familialor occupational groups. It is the way we represent ourvalues in stories, songs, rituals, crafts and cooking.Whether the legacy of past generations or a recent in-novation, folklife is traditionalized by its practitioners: itbecomes a marker of community or group identity-.Folklife is a way that people say, "This is who and howwe are."Folklife is as contemporary as it is historical: it is thelanguages and dialects we speak, the clothes we wearand the other ways in which we express ourselves. It isgospel music performed by African American choirs,Anglo-American foodways, stories taxicab drivers tell,group dances done at Jewish weddings, whistle signalsof Salvadoran men, Missouri fiddling sessions and thepractical kno^^'lecige farmers have of weather: it is Italians playing hocce. Vietnamese curing by rui)bing,Puerto Ricans playing the plena. Ojibway Indiansharvesting wild rice, Pakistanis eating dal and chapati.While implicating the past, these traditions are ascontemporary in their expressivity and function asabstract painting, computer synthesized music and mi-crowavable food. Traditional Virgin Islands scratchband music and calypso singing, kallaloo cooking andmask making are contemporary with top 40 hits, fastfood and the tourist industry'. In Senegal, saying namaz.singing praise songs, dancing the sabar. participating inlambe wrestling, and practicing metal smithing, clothdying and hair braiding are part of contemporary lives.Folklife is often and wrongfully associated in thepopular mind with incomprehensible song and stilteddance, doll-like performance costumes, and antiquated,naive arts and crafts. Despite the advertising label,folklife is not a large troupe of choreographed, acro-batic, finely tailored youth prancing to glorious orches-tral music in romanticized and theatrically inspiredvisions of peasant life. Nor does folklife properly referto historical re-enactments of bygone crafts or to otheranachronistic performances in which individuals pre-tend to be others situated in a distant time and place.This tendency to think of folklife as theatrical recreationof the past disparages it, divorces it from its contempo-rary existence.The devaluation of grass-roots, peoples' culturegrows from a desire to see ourselves as "modern. " Thisdesire, as many social historians have noted, is rootedin the practices of the industrial revolution and theirideological consequences. Industrial manufacture ?with its rationalization of production to maximize profit ? meant relying on those applied sciences that fosteredinnovative technological development and giving pri-mary legitimacy to systems of value based upon or well-suited to an economic calculus. In the 19th centur>',many older forms of knowledge, systems of values,technologies and skills that were not useful to factory-manufacture, to American and European urban life, andto a growing cla.ss of professional scholars, were dele-gitimated.An example of this is the official de\aluation anddelegitimation of medical systems, such as the Greco-Roman-Arabic humoral system, or "Ionian Physics."This system of medicine practiced from the Mediterra-nean to south Asia had a rich pharmacoepia, anexperimental tradition, colleges and training centers, along-lived, vibrant literature, and tens of thousands oftrained physician practitioners serving both urban andrural communities. Yet it was devalued by Britislicolonial officials. Because they held power, not anecessarily or demonstrably better science, they wereable to decertify local practitioners and institutions. Theresult was that medical treatment by indigenous physi-cians was lost to many, particularly in rural areas. The relati\ely few locals trained in British medical schoolseither returned primarily to cities or stayed abroad. Thedenial of other, in this case, was also a denial of one'sown history. Hippocrates himself, the fountainhead ofWestern medical practice, practiced the humoral sys-tem. Greco-Roman scholars developed the systemspharmacopeia and theory, which, preserved and ex-panded by Arab physicians,was still taught in Europeanimiversities well into the 19th centuiy.Concurrent with the monopolistic a.ssertion of singu-lar, exclusive ways of knowing and forms of kncjwledge,European and American nations invested power in in-stitutions that transcended traditional loyalties. Alle-giance to family, clan, religious sect and tribe might beseen as primordial ba.ses of nationhood, but they had tobe ethically superceded for the ,state to function. Thistransformation was understood as a fundamental shift inthe nature of society by .seminal theorists of the late 19thcentun,-? from mechanical to organic forms of solidar-ity by Emile Durkheim, from community to associationby Ferdinand Tonnies, from status to civil society byLewis Henry Morgan, from feudalism to capitalism byMax Weber and Karl Marx. The success of this transfor-mation can be seen in the permanency of its non-folkforms of organization ? universities and school sys-tems, judicial courts, parliaments and political parties,businesses and unions? which came \.o define particu-lar fields of social action. Less formal types of organiza-tion ? church, home, family, elders, neighborhood,club ? receded in importance.The success of American and European efforts todevelop state institutions ? and thereby to overcomethe past by devaluing it ? were mistakenly taken tojustify the ethical superiority of colonizing powers overpeoples of Africa, Asia, Oceania and South America. Anideology of social and cultural evolution postulated nec-essary correspondences among technological develop-ment, social organization and cultural achievement. Inthe view of late 19th century social science, technologi-cally advanced peoples were better organized .sociallyand superior culturally. Modernity was opposed totradition and was associated with political power; it wasthought to be characteristic of more sophisticated,higher class, adult-like culture, while tradition was asso-ciated with powerlessness and thought to be associatedwith a simpler, lower class, child-like culture. Accordingto this ideology, the purpose of education, developmentand cultural policy was for the supposedly deficient,tradition-bound peoples (both foreign and domestic) tofollow in the technological, social and cultural footstepsof the advanced and modern.This view has always been and continues to bechallenged. Technological "progress" does not mean "better" for everyone. Technological superioriry mayindeed mean more efficient production. But it can alsomean more efficient destruction. Witness our modern ability for nuclear annihilation. Witness the devastationand pollution of the environment with efficient forestcutting machines and powerful but toxic syntheticchemicals. Witness the breakup of social units, culturalforms and ethical values resulting in part from televi-sion, video and computer games.The comparative efficacy of social systems is difficultto measure. While modern states are often judgedpositively for their nuclear families, social and geo-graphic mobility and diffuse systems of authority, theseforms have a cost. High divorce and suicide rates, urbancrime, drug problems, mid-life crises and alienation arein part the prices paid for the type of society we live in.It is difficult if not impossible to say that one cultureis better than another. All cultures provide a system ofsymbols and meanings to their bearers, and in thisfimction they are similar. All cultures encourage self-perpetuating, guiding values and forms of aestheticexpression. All cultures encode knowledge, althoughthe ways in which they do so may differ. And when oneset of cultural ideas replaces another it is usually a caseof knowledge replacing knowledge, not ignorance.The relationship between ethics, power and technol-ogy is also problematic. Progress on technical and socialfronts has not been uniform, even in Europe and theUnited States. Wide discrepancies continue to exist inthe accessibility of technological benefits and socialopportunities. Within the U.S. and Europe and aroundthe world, the point is easily made that political orcoercive power is not necessarily associated with righ-teousness. Modern states have inflicted ethical horrorsupon each other? the world wars, for example, do notbespeak of advanced and civilized values. Nor doinstitutions such as slavery, colonialism, concentrationcamps and apartheid visited on the so-called "less devel-oped" or "inferior" speak well of ethical or cultural su-periority, as Frederick Douglas, Mohandas Gandhi, ElieWiesel, Martin Luther King, Jr. , Lech Walesa and DesmondTutu have clearly demonstrated.American Unity and Di\^rsitySince the early pan of the 20th century, Americanpopular culture has represented this country as a "nationof nations" that employs a "melting pot" or similarcrucible to blend or eliminate differences and producenational unity. Henry Ford actually devised a ritualpageant for workers at one of his plants which involvedan "Americanization machine." At an appropriate phaseof their assimilation. Ford would have workers ?mainly from central and eastern Europe? dress in theirvarious national costumes, march onto a stage wavingtheir national flags, and enter the machine. The latterwas a large and elaborate stage prop replete withsmoke, control levers and gauges. Workers wouldemerge from this crucible of factory experience dressed in American work clothes and waving American flags.For Ford, Americanization worked, and industry was itsengine.Many Americans (Glazer and Moynihan 1963) havelong been aware that the "melting pot" was an inade-quate metaphor for American society. For in this meltingpot, American Indians were long invisible, AfricanAmericans were excluded, and the cultures of otherswere ignored despite their persistence. Other meta-phors? the American salad, stew, patchwork quilt andrainbow ? have been offered as alternatives. But nowand in the coming decades Americans will have toconfront their own diversity as never before. Thedemographic shift, combined with heightened con-sciousness of civil and cultural rights will challengeAmericans to devise new models of nationhood.Despite such challenges, the ideology of culturalsuperiority still looms large. International developmentpolicy is typically conceived in this mode, although "grassroots-up" and various types of community and "appropriate" development strategies represent alterna-tives that take into consideration locally defined goals,values and institutions. Political efforts to define culturalpolicy in America have, in some cases, taken a mono-cultural track ? "English-language only" initiatives inseveral states, for example. Some national institutionshave also promulgated a monocultural view of Ameri-can society, stressing the overriding importance of asingular, national, homogeneous core culture. Forexample, a few years ago, the National Endowment forthe Arts issued a report Toward Civilization (1988). thatpromotes arts education as the received wisdom of anelitist Euro-American art history. Folk and non-Westernaccomplishments and aesthetic ideas are largely absent.The spurious argument about the need for a standardAmerican culture has been made most forcibly by AlanBloom (1987) in The Closing ofthe American Mind. Onone hand Bloom disparages as weak and irrelevant thetypes of cultural differences expressed by Americans:The 'ethnic' differences we see in the United Statesare but decaying reminiscences of old differencesthat caused our ancestors to kill one another. Theanimating principle, their soul, has disappearedfrom them. The ethnic festivals are just superficialdisplays of clothes, dances and foods from the oldcountry. One has to be quite ignorant of thesplendid 'cultural' past to be impressed or charmedby these insipid folkloric manifestations... And theblessing given the whole notion of cultural diver-sity in the United States by the culture movementhas contributed to the intensification and legitimi-zation of group politics, along with a correspond-ing decay of belief that the individual rightsenunciated in the Declaration of Independenceare anything more than dated rhetoric. (Bloom1987:192-93) 10 If such differences are as irrelevant and superficial asBloom believes, why are they such threats to hismonolithic version of national unity? Raising xenopho-bic fears Bloom says,Obviously the future ofAmerica can't be sustainedif people keep only to their own ways and remainperpetual outsiders. The society has got to turnthem into Americans. There arenatural fears that today's immigrantsmay be too much of a culturalstretch for a nation based on "West-ern values. ( Time 1990 135(15 ):3 1 ) Bloom and others think that atten-tion to diversity should be minimized.Education and public discourse basedon diversity would not assimilate "minority" populations to the "main-stream." Multiculturalism as a policywould, Bloom fears, undercut nationalunity.On the other side of the debate arethose who argue that institutions shouldbroaden their practices to include thewisdom, knowledge, languages andaesthetics of the many peoples whohave contributed to the growth of thenation. Too often the history booksand history museums have left out theaccomplishments of "minority"peoples. For example, American Indian tribes hadcreated governments, civilizations and humanitarianvalues long before European conquest? yet they havehistorically been represented in textbooks as savages.African American contributions to American history ?from the development of rice agriculture in the U.S.southeast to the creation of technological inventions?have generally been absent from museums. The sacri-fices of Chinese Americans, who laid the railroad trackthat crossed the nation in the 19th century, are removedfrom public historical consciousness. The contributions,insights and wisdoms ofmany of America's people havesimply been ignored in mainstream representations ofhistory and culture (Stewart and Ruffins 1986, Garfias1989, Tchen 1990). In response to Bloom, severalscholars argue that ignoring diversity in the guise of in-tellectual or moral superiority has led to a divided nationand bodes ill for the future ( Tloe GrayivolfA)iniiaI Five1988). Failure to accommodate diversity contributed tothe destruction of numerous American Indian peoples,to the institution of slavery and continuing discrimina-tion against African Americans, and to the forced intern-ment of Japanese Americans during World War II.Internationally, historical attempts to enforce a mono-cultural nationhood and segregate or destroy alternatixecultural expression has resulted in National Socialismand the Holocaust in Hitler's Germany, Stalinism in the ntnh'III till iiiciviisiii;^!]' iliivrsi' .1people /mill iiiniunty liiIiilire tu the many sided discourse Ihal isnational ciiltn'iv. At the 1989 Festival.Earl Syholni. an Oiihtiayfrom Michigan,and Wni^lil Boiniuiii a Haiiaiuin.discuss iiucsii,,iis ,,f fonii fniKluni andsocial rallies iii relation to their respec-tire boat making traditions i Photo byDane Penland. Smithsonian Jiistiliilion i Soviet Union, apartheid in South Africa, and civil warsin Nigeria, Sri Lanka, Cambodia. Nicaragua and a hostof other countries. Indeed, there is broad national andinternational consensus that cultural rights ? to wor-ship or not as one chooses, to have one's own beliefs,to express one's own ethnic, cultural or tribal identity,to speak one's own language and to sing one's ownsong ? are central, uni\'ersal humanrights.Acceptance ofhuman cultural rightsdoes not mean the end of supra-localor supra-regional political unities. Na-tions and larger federations can havepolitical, legal and moral frameworksthat enshrine cultural freedoms. Butcultural dominance of one group overanother need not be a basic conditionof contemporary nations, especiallydemocratic ones. European nations,which as colonial powers squabbledo\er a divided worid, will in 1992 unite ? despite the centuries-old differencesof language, culture and history thatseparate them. The prospect of a unitedEurope, where many people are al-ready multilingual and multicultural,has yet to resonate with Americans.Bi.it demographic changes taking placein the United States, coupled with anincreased consciousness of issues of representation ?resulting largely from the Civil Rights Movement andthose that followed? assure that discussions of culturalunity and diversity will grow in frequency and impor-tance.Cultural Pluralism: FromLocal To National LevelsIn many communities across the country, institutionsare developing strategies for dealing with culturallydiverse neighborhoods, student populations, and workforces. They are trying to resolve the tension betweenthe right to sing one's own song and the need to speakwith one's neighbors. In California, 42 percent of thetotal state population and slightly more than half thestudents in public schools are of "minority" background.The challenge in education is to adjust curricula, staff,and teaching methods and materials to meet theirstudents' needs in facing the future. Educators whoenvision a multicultural America have diversified theirstaff to present the cultural perspectives of a broaderrange of the population and to provide positive rolemodels for students. Innovative language learning pro-grams, multiple points of view in history, art and music,and imaginative use of community resources and expe-cont. page 13 11 bailey's elementary school ?Cultural Pluralism in the 1990s Bailey's Elementary School and its community' isan example of how issues of cultural pluralism maybe addressed at the local level in the coming decade.It is a community I know, as resident and PTApresident.Bailey's Elementary School is located in the Bailey'sCrossroads area of Fairfax County, Virginia. It is apublic school with about 530 students from 43 coun-tries speaking some 22 different languages. About 40percent of the children speak Spanish as their mothertongue. The other most often spoken nati\e lan-guages in the school are English, Cambodian, 'Viet-namese, Urdu, Arabic and Korean. Of the 70 nativeEnglish speakers, about half are European American,half are African American. The staff, includingteachers and administrators is also quite diverse. Thecultural diversity' of the students and their families isapparent in neighborhood grocery stores, churchesand mosque, and flyers in store windows.Cultural diversity is matched by economic diver-sity. Many parents are recent immigrants from ruralareas of El Salvador, Nicaragua and Bolivia, living inrelatively low rent apartments and working in un-skilled or semi-skilled jobs, as landscaping andconstruction laborers, housekeepers, child careproviders, and servers at fast-food restaurants. Moreeducated and professionally trained immigrants fromLatin America are underemployed, as they supporttheir families while seeking certification or languagetraining that would enable them to exercise theiroccupational skills. Also in the apartments and nearbyin smaller homes, live various other immigrants,mainly from south and southeast Asia. Some startedas refugees, earned money in jobs and businessesand bought their own homes. Further away butwithin a half-mile from the lower rent apartments areluxury apartments, some the dwellings of foreigndiplomats, and more expensive residential areas,some with homes in the $200-300,000 range andothers with homes worth more than $1 million.Teachers, students and indeed most parents areproud of the diverse nature of the school that isreflected in its books, lessons, field trips and culturalevents. Some of the academic programs build uponand address the diversity of student backgrounds. Asan example, the school initiated a Spanish languagepartial immersion program. In mixed classes of nativeEnglish and native Spanish speakers, 40 first graderslearn math, science and art in Spanish and language arts, social studies, music and physical education inEnglish. The English speakers help the Spanishspeakers for half the day; they switch roles for theother half. This approach has facilitated languagelearning in both sets of children, consistent with abody of educational research indicating that suchimmersion programs result in increased abilities inboth native and target languages for all students.The program has spawned other positive sideeffects. For one, it helped hold more affluent nativeEnglish speaking parents and their children in the .school by offering a special high quality enhance-ment program. At the same time, it helped legitimatethe knowledge that Spanish speaking students, newto the community, could contribute. Instead of beingmarginalized and told they were deficient, the Span-ish speakers could exhibit leadership roles in classand help their English speaking classmates learn.Role reversal by both sets of students seems quitehealthy. Additionally, Spanish speaking teenagersfrom nearby Stuart High School became involved inthe Bailey's program. Some of these teenagers,coming into a high school in 11th or 12th grade fromLatin America with little English speaking ability,were, understandably, alienated in their classes.Some were on the verge of dropping out. A timely ar-rangement between the Bailey's and Stuart Spanishlanguage teachers brought the high schoolers intothe classroom on a regular basis to help teach, tutorand mentor the first graders in the program. This hasnow proved to be a great success. The high schoolstudents feel they are making a valuable contribu-tion. The first graders get more attention and help intheir studies. Instead of encouraging marginalizalionand .stigmatization of people on the basis of languageand class, the program has used culture as a resourcefor ever>'one's education.Yet, in this neighborhood, in one of the wealthi-est counties in the nation, the school is seen as athreat, or a problem by a vocal and sizable minorityof older homeowners. They decry the "decline" of theschool, complaining about the "lack of White faces"and the wrongheadedness of the Spanish languagepartial immersion program. The community, theyassert, is "decaying" as a result of the alien presence ? this despite the fact that the apartments were builtwell before the suburban subdivisions. Long timeresidents complain about soccer games, the "loud(Latin) music" played in public, the lack of 'neighbor- 12 liness" or "grounds keeping" exhibited by immigrantresidents. Many of these people and others, includ-ing apartment dwellers, are also worried about alco-holism, crime, undocumented and unemployableimmigrants, and other issues bearing on the qualityof life. These are legitimate causes of concern, butthe challenge is always to separate them from racism,fear and the spurious interpretation of facts. Thesefeelings, based in prejudice, lead some people to seea threat to the American way of life, jast because thekids at school are from working class families, havea different color of skin, or speak a different lan-guage.It is interesting to note that in .McLean, only a fewmiles from Bailey's, very affluent European Ameri-can parents are on a waiting list to enroll theirchildren in a Japanese language partial immersionprogram. Learning Japanese is not perceived as athreat to American education, but rather as a state-of-the-art program sure to give kids a competitiveadvantage in the world. The value of the Japaneselanguage program vis-a-vis the Spanish program hasnothing to do with the intrinsic grammars, poetics orlinguistic attributes of the languages themselves.Instead, language and other cultural expressionsmay sometimes be valued, and devalued, rathertransparently, according to the perceived socialstatus of their bearers. With the support of thecounty, teachers and administrators at Bailey's areworking to use cultural differences in a positive,equitable way to encourage the flowering of ideasand talents from each of its students for the benefitof all its students. cont. from page 11riences characterize educational strategies which recog-nize cultural pluralism as both educational context andresource.In the workplace, some industrial psychologists andsociologists have seen their task as the management andcontrol of an increasingly diverse labor force. Somestrategies entail minimizing expressions of diversity,while others more creatively encourage the develop-ment of new forms of occupational culture.On national and international levels there are strongforces for cultural homogenization. If all consumers canbe trained to have the same tastes, for example, productand market development become easier and more pre-dictable. Diversity is more cumbersome and trouble-some to large multinationals when a myriad of differ-ences in taste, attribution of value, and moti\ationalgoals inform consumer choices. International marke-teers would prefer unanimiry ? today, generational,tomorrow, global? on what the "real thing" is and howto become identified with it. On the public side, the United States has no Ministr}'of Culture, no coven of government bureaucrats to craftand promulgate the nation's culture. 'We do not have anational language, a national costume, a national dance,a national food. If we did have a singular nationalculture, what would it be? National cultural institutionshave long played a role of encouraging the peoples ofthe United States to create their own cultural expres-sions in the context of larger frameworks of free speechand cultural democracy. The National Endowments dothis through granting programs. The Smithsonian Insti-tution has recently played a leading role in encouragingcultural pluralism, seeing it as a healthy extension ofdemocratic and populist practices which ultimatelystrengthen the nation. The Smithsonian has madecultural pluralism in its audience, its exhibits, its re-search, its ideas and its staff a high priority' for the 1990s. lidiiccition in vanous types of settings coiwevs knowledge and aes-thetics ofdirerse cultiirat traditions At the 1989 Festival Leode-gario KeviKi insinitl^ tl'ililivii mi the imihods of coconut leafwealing ilcrcli'pcd In liliin>iit\ in Huitai i The Festiral is anciliicatiiiiial jiri^Lcw dijlciviil Jnoii the Llassnnnii and usual mu-seum setting It ivlics ii/niii hiniian interaction and stresses oral,manual and seiisun iiieciii-. fur transmitting insight I Photo byRichard Strauss. Smith\,iniiiii histuution) Issues in a Multicultural SocietyAccording to some interpreters of culture, the woridis becoming more homogeneous. The spread of mass,popular commercial culture with a discrete set oftelevision programs and formats, fast food, top musichits, designer jeans and other fashions, and a standardrepertoire of consumer goods seems to have engulfedthe planet. Modern technology ? from television andradio to videocassette recorders, communications satel-lites, modems and fax machines ? has seeminglyreduced distances between the earth's peoples. We cansend our voices and images around the planet in amatter of seconds.Many cultures, as Alan Lomax ( 1977) has ably noted,are in moral and aesthetic danger as a result of thisglobalization of American mass culture, and as a resultof the continued valorization of elite forms of culture. 13 The power and frequency with which mass culturepenetrates everyday life can suggest to people that local,grass-roots culture is not valuable. Publicity attendingthe purchases of masterpieces for multi-million dollarsums can give people the feeling that their own crea-tions are relatively worthless. Some people stop speak-ing their local language, discontinue their art, music,foodways and other cultural expressions in the beliefthat imitating either mass or elite forms of culture is aroute to a better position in the society. Old time music,storytelling, traditional dance, and boatbuilding cease,as do traditional forms of mutual support; a culturebegins to die.Cultures need to be conser\'ed. Just as we mournbiological species when they become endangered anddie out, so too do we mourn cultures that die. For eachculture represents scores of traditions built up, usuallyover many generations. Each culture provides a uniquevision of the world and how to navigate through it.Cultures are best conserved when they are dynamic,alive, when each generation takes from the past, makesit their own, contributes to it and builds a future. Culturalchange and dynamism are integral to culture. Cultureswere not created years ago to persist forever in un-changing form. Cultures are continually recreated indaily life as it is lived by real people.For this reason, as Breckenridge and Appadurai(1988) suggest, the world is increasingly becoming atonce more culturally heterogeneous as well as morehomogeneous. New variations of being Indian, forexample, arise from cultural flows occasioned by theimmigrant experience, tourism and reverse immigra-tion. A Hindu temple, housed in a historic building, isestablished in Flushing, New York; fast food restaurantsfeaturing an Indian spiced menu are built in New Delhi.New contexts occasion creati%e applications of tradi- Fonimsfor cultural interchange may unite people uhn share acommon past, enriching their oum cultural and historical identity.French fiddlersfrom western France. Louisiana. Quebec. ,\eir Fng-land and North Dakota, separated by centuries of musical andcultural history are united on the National Mall at the 1989 Festi-val. Says Louisiana Cajun fiddler Dewey Balfa. 'If it wasn'tfor theFestival Vd have to travel around the worldfor a generation or tivoto hear this richness and variety ofFrench music. " (Photo by DanePenland, Smithsonian Institution) tional forms. New culture unlike that previously in NewYork or New Delhi is created.Technology aids this process. Cheap, easy to use taperecorders, video cameras and the like begin to democ-ratize the power of media. Anyone can make a record-ing or a film, preserve and document their culturalcreation and share it with others. A videocassetterecorder can be used in India to view Rocky V, but it canalso be used to view a home video of a Hindu weddingsent by relatives living in New York.The main issue in a monocultural society? whetherrelatively small and homogeneous or large and totalitar-ian ? is that of control. Who has the power andauthority to make culture, to promulgate it and havepeople accept it? Historically, in colonial situations, thecolonizers have tended to dictate cultural choices anddefinitions of public and state culture. Those colonizedaccept in general terms the culture, language, garb, orreligion of the powerful, and then continue their ownways in various forms of resistance. In this sense, thosecolonized, subjegated or out of power are often moremulticultural than those in power? for it is they that areforced to learn two languages, to dress up and down, toparticipate in the "mainstream" as well as in their ownculture. Individuals from the disempowered learn to besuccessful in both cultures by code switching? playinga role, speaking and acting one way with the out-group,another way with one's own people.Increasing cultural homogeneity and heterogeneitycalls for increa,sed ability' to participate in a variety ofcultures ? national, religious, occupational, tribal,ethnic and familial ? on a daily basis. Code switchingand compartmentalization are part of ever>'day life. Forexample, mainstream forms of language use, comport-ment and dress may be used in school or at work duringthe day, but may be replaced by a different dialect andst\-le back home in the evening. Religious culture andoccupational culture may be compartmentalized by ananthropology professor who teaches evolution duringthe week and Genesis at Sunday school. As our identi-ties are increasingly multiple? as mothers, as workers,as household heads, for example ? and as theseidentities are continually brought into juxtaposition,people will with greater awareness participate in anddraw upon a multiplicity of cukures. Most Americans al-ready eat foods from a variety of culinary traditions ?though our palates are generally more multiculturalthan our minds. And in daily life we are liable to use avariety of languages? including not only "natural" lan-guages but also those of word processing, mathematicsand technical fields. One dimensional views of our-selves and others as being members of either this cultureor that culture will seem increasingly simplistic, irrele-vant and unimaginative. Individual management of amultiplicity of roles and the cultural forms associatedwith them will offer new creative potentials for person- 14 ality development, as well as, no doubt, new difficulties.Socially, multiculturalism is a fact of life in manycommunities. Increasingly, formal institutions mustrespond to the consequences of a multicultural society.Educational and research organizations will have tofacilitate skill in multiculturality. As geographic distanceand boundaries become more easily traversed, we willsimply have to achieve greater cross-cultural and inter-cultural fluency than we now possess. Monoculturalism,even amongst the most powerful, will be untenable. Tobe successful, Americans will have to learn about theJapanese, the Soviets, the Chinese, the Muslim world,and many others. And Americans will need greater self-knowledge ifwe are to deal with the increasing diversityof our neighborhoods and institutions. Cultural mono-logues will be out, dialogues or multilogues in, as we getused to the idea that there are different ways ofknowing, feeling and expressing. As differences inperspective are institutionalized, our museums, schools,workplaces and other organizations will become richer,more multilayered and complex, informed by alterna- Ciiltitrat groups hnnight into amttict fiinl iiiul explore resonancesin their tnuiitinns At the J9SS Fcstnril. Ituhan anil PortuaiieseAmericans frniii MassaJtnsetts /'iiraile! hni\< iiuiixhini; lunuly miuh as thcv e R'sliral of .American Folklife. like all events, is a moment inhistoiy Here, the kinf^ of Ghana's Ga people meets a Rastafarianfrom /aiiuiiLii '/. fi.S'i iiiccIiiim on the .Mall en,i;en,lcrc,l inlcifrcta-tions anil ciiioiions for both i.;n:iil? ofpeople ll'hoi,, hy Kuk Var-gas. Smithsonian Institution) New and rich types of cultural creations and negotiations are likelyto arise from thejuxtapositions of cultures and their exemplars.Marie McDonald is one of Hairaii's foremost traditional lei makers.Although there is a traditional lei for royalty Mane hail neivrmade one. as the last Hainiiian king died in I'm >' she da ideil tomake such a lei to honor the risil of the Ga king lo the h'estiral sitein 19S'> .\fler iihiking the royal lei negotiations ria walkie-talkieenahled .Mane and the Ga king to da ide on hoir the lei would hepresented After consultation with his adrisors and holy man. theking decided tofollow Hawaiian custom, receiving the lei over hishead and a kissfrom Marie. This teasfolknved hy a handshake.(Photo byJeff Tinsley. Smithsonian Institution) 16 Citations AND Further ReadingsBloom, Alan. 1987. The Closing of Ihe AmericanMind. New York: Simon and Schuster.Breckenridge, Carol and Arjun Appadurai. 1988.Editors' Comments. Public Culture l(l):l-4.Cultural Sunnval Quarterly. 1982. 6(2). Themeissue: Deforestation: The Human Costs. 1984. 8(3).Theme i.ssue: Hunters and Gatherers. 1987. 11(1).Theme issue: Grassroots Economic Development.Cole, Johnetta. 1990. Quoledm AUTbings Consid-ered news feature on Spelman College. NationalPublic Radio. March 8.Garfias, Robert. 1989. Cultural Diversity and the Artsin America: The View for the 90s. Unpublished reportto the National Endowment for the Arts.Glazer, Nathan and Daniel Moynihan. 19^3. Be-yond the Melting Pot: ne Negroes. Puerto Ricans. Jews.Italia>!s and Irish ofNew York City. Cambridge: MITPress.The GraywolfAnnual Five: Opening of the Ameri-can Mind. 1988. St. Paul: Graywolf Press.Lomax, Alan. 1977. An Appeal for Cultural Equity.Journal of Communication.National Endowment for the Arts. 1988. TowardCivilization.Seeger, Anthony. 1987. WhySuya Sing. Cambridge:Cambridge University Press.Time. 1990. Beyond the Melting Pot, 135( 15):28-35.Stewart, Jeffrey and Faith Ruffins. 1986. A FaithfulWitness: Afro-American Public History in HistoricalPerspective, 1828-1984. In Presenting the Past: Essayson Historyand the Public, eds. Susan Benson, StephenBrier and Roy Rosenzweig. Philadelphia: Temple Uni-versity Press.Tchen, John Kuo Wei. 1990. Notes on U.S. HistoryMuseums: Institutional Practices, Collective Memoryand Racial Identity Formation. For Museums andCommunities conference sponsored by the Smith-sonian Institution and the Rockefeller Foundation. 17 folklife of the u.s. virgin islands:Persistence and CreativityOlivia Cadaval Despite many challenges, folklife is still acreative resource in the lives of many U.S.Virgin Islanders. Virgin Islands' folklife is thelegacy of generations who brought culturaltraditions from Africa, Europe and elsewhere, adaptedthose traditions to meet local needs,and combined them with those ofother cultures in vibrant and use-ful new forms. Although unique,the development of traditionalculture in the Virgin Islands hasbeen affected by the same histori-cal movements and social prac-tices that have shaped other Carib-bean societies. This developmentcan be understood within the his-tory and geography of the Carib-bean as a whole.The CaribbeanContextMo.st islands in the CaribbeanSea are mountaintops created bygreat volcanic eruptions along aplanetary seam that arches fromFlorida to South America. Thesewere the lands Columbus first "discovered" and claimed for the Spanish empire whenhe came to what would later be called the "New World."Preoccupation with gold and other grand riches madesubsequent Spanish settlements in the Caribbean merelystaging areas for Spain's colonization of the Americanmainland. This approach to exploiting the new territo-ries left room in the Caribbean for colonization by otherEuropean nations. The infamous triangularofproduction together in Commercial entrepreneurs working in league withEuropean governments developed the flatter parts ofislands into plantations. Indigenous peoples? Caribs,Arawaks, and others ? were driven off or enslaved ifthey did not die of the foreign diseases brought fromEurope. Some islands were al-most completely cleared of nativevegetation for cultivation of cashcrops, transforming them into ag-ricultural production units in aworldwide system of economicexchange. On other islands, en-slaved workers u.sed land unsuit-able for cash crops as provisiongrounds, or gardens, for growingfood.An infamous triangular tradelinked the Caribbean islands (andlater, South and North America)with western Africa and Europe.Manufactured goods from Europewere exchanged by European and .'African slave traders for peoplecaptured in western Africa. ThoseAfricans who survived the pas.sageacross the Atlantic chained in shipswere sold as slaves, on the islandof St. Thomas and elsewhere. Theslave owners who bought them did so with profits madefrom plantation grown and processed sugar, molas.sesand rum. These Caribbean products were shipped toEurope to meet the necessities of a newly urbanizedlabor force. Profits realized in the European sale couldpurchase trade goods bound again for Africa and thetrade in slaves.The plantation system itself, which combines mini- trade linked differefit modea world system The U.S. Virgin Islandsprogram has been madepossible by theHonorable GoventorAlexanderA . Fatrelly. the Officeofthe Governor, the 18th Legislature ofthe Virgin Islands, the Department ofEconomic Development and Agriculture,Division ofTourism, Department ofPlanning and Natural Resources, the Virgin Islands Council on The Arts, ParadiseMotors, Inc., Little Switzerland, Virgin Islands AT&T, West Indian Company Ltd., and other corporate sponsors. 18 mal cost and maximal control of labor with large scaleproduction of a single crop, was invented by thePortuguese for use in their island possessions off thecoast of Africa. In the Caribbean, the slave plantationreached its potential for both profitability and humande.structiveness. It was a complex in.stitution, with adiversified and stratified labor force, international fi-nancing, and a developed body of management theor\'.Enslaved persons defied the practices of slavery bywhatever means available. Organized rebellions beganto sweep most colonies within a decade after the arri\alof the first slave ships. The firstinsurrection of enslaved Africanrunaways, who came to be calledMaroons, took place in 1^22 inSanto Domingo against the Span-ish. Jamaican Maroons ha\e along tradition of resistance andhave built the longest continu-ously surviving communities. Inthe then Danish Virgin Islands, asuccessful but short-lived revolton St. John in 1733 permanentlystunted plantation slavery on thatisland. The system was reformedafter a revolt in St. Croix in 18-i8when sla\'er}- was declared illegalby the Danish crown. After thatentrepreneurs secured the labor ofpersons already resident in theCaribbean by means of contracts.These contracts granted workersrights and living standards littlebetter than those obtained duringslavery.Many former slaves did not become contract labor-ers. Instead, they practiced agricultural and craft skillslearned from a variety of African and European sources, 'i'he free airal and urban communities they built weredevelopments of .social forms that had existed duringslavery but outside of and in resistance to it.Caribbean island-born or Creole cultures developedto meet the challenges of this historical experience.These cultures emerged, as did those in many otherareas of intense European colonization, through creoli-zation, a process of cultural amalgamation that results inidentifiably new forms. Built on African foundationsand framed with Eurcpean social forms, they wereconstRicted by .strong, active, creative people who livedin complex relationships to European derived anddominated institutions. In the Caribbean, people cre-ated distinct cultures on different islands because of ihhcuii irilh iiii variations in the nature and extent of continuing en-counters with native peoples, Europeans, Africans,Asians and later, with the bearers of Creole cultures fromother islands.The U.S. Virgin Islands:Cultural and HistoricalBackgroundThe Virgin Islands, U.S. and British, are geographi-cally part of the Lesser Antilles, achain ofsmall islands east of PuertoRico colonized and ruled primarilyby the English, Dutch, Danish andFrench. The U.S. Virgin Islandsare a closely grouped archipelagoof o\er 50 mountainous islands,most of which are not presently in-habited. St. Thomas, St. John andSt. Croix are the three major is-lands. Columbus named the group 'Las Islas Virgenes" in honor of theSwedish St. Ursula and her legend-ary army of 11,000 martyred vir-gins.' On his .second voyage in1493, Columbus records that hisship briefly anchored at the mouthof the Salt River in St. Croix. Heand his men were attacked byCarib Indians and fled eastwardtoward Puerto Rico. Colonizationof the Virgin Islands did not beginuntil the 17th century and thenonly sporadically with English,Spanish, French and Dutch involvement. The Danes es-tablished their first foothold on what is now the U.S.Virgin Islands when the Danish West India Companyreceived a rcjyal charter for the island of St. Thomas inl(i71. Under the leadership of the governor of St.Thomas, Denmark occupied St. John in 1717, and St.Croix was purchased from the French in 1733. In 1917,the United States purchased the islands from Denmarkto use as a naval base to protect Panama Canal trafficfrom possilile German attack.In the LI.S. Virgin Islands the earliest Europeansettlers were English, Dutch, and French, but the largestimmigrant population was originally from Ghana andother pans of West Africa. Old family names reflectDanish and Spanish ancestry as well as some Italian,Irish, Lithuanian, Polish, German and Russian heritage.A Sephardic Jewish population from the Dutch Islands et ufihc VS VirtiDi Islaih/s ' According to The Penguin Dictionary of Saints (Middle.sex, England: Penguin Book.s, Inc., 1965), 333-.S34, the legend goes back to the 4thor 5th century when Ursula, to avoid an unwanted marriage, departed with her maiden companions from Britain, where her father was king.On their way back from a visit to Rome, they were slaughtered by the Huns in Cologne. By the 9th century the legendary number of martyredmaidens had grown to thousands. 19 relocated in St. Thomas in tiie 1790s and established theHebrew Congregation of St. Thomas, the second oldestsynagogue in the hemisphere. Moravian missionarieswere invited to the islands to educate and Christianizeenslaved Africans in the early 18th century and playeda major role in the development of the local culture. TheMoravians acknowledged the importance of local lan-guage by translating the Bible into Dutch Creole. Labor-ers from the mideast and India came to the islands ascontract laborers after the Danes abolished slavery' in1848.Principal economic activity in the Virgin Islandshistorically centered around two institutions: the port,exemplified by St. Thomas, and the plantation, exempli-fied by St. John and St. Croix. While port and plantationcomplemented each other, they had different kinds ofeconomic needs and provided different kinds of oppor-tunities; they formed different contexts in which culturalforms developed. The port required a labor force thatmoved the articles of commerce. It fostered urbanliving, growth of an artisan class, and a cosmopolitanperspective. The organization of plantation life ser\'edthe cultivation and processing of sugar. In many places,enslaved workers were allowed to till small plots of landto provide food for themselves and sometimes for theplanter's household. Working these gardens, slavespracticed traditional horticultural skills, acquired newones, and established an exchange economy amongthemselves. Some managed to buy their freedom withmoney raised from selling their crops. While patterns ofmutual support evolved in the plantations among en-slaved workers, freemen tended to associate with theplanter society and often moved to the ports.Danish rule was marked by political neutrality. Theywere usually uninvolved in the European conflicts thatspilled over into the colonies. St. Thomas, with its deep,safe, and neutral harbor, developed into a major inter-national free port. Neighboring peoples often soughta.sylum in the Danish islands, as in the case of Tortolansfleeing from English attacks. Economic opportunitiesattracted "free coloureds" from other islands. "Free In her home in St. John. Mrs. Louise Sewerprepares whist-.making a basket (Photo by Karen Samuel) coloured" was the legal term used by the Danish forenslaved persons with African ancestry who had beengranted or had purchased their freedom, and for thechildren born to free women with African ancestry.Slaves could be given their freedom by their mastersthroughout the Caribbean. Under the Danes, slavescould also buy their freedom.The diverse national origins of settlers, the formationof different socio-economic classes which sometimescut across racial divisions, and migrations betweenislands have all contributed to the unique character ofU.S. Virgin Islands. Creolized traditions have evolved ina spectacular variety of forms that can be seen to definean Afro-European cultural spectrum. In the area ofmusic and dance, an African call-and-response legacyshapes the song tradition of cariso. while a Europeaninfluence predominates in quadrille dancing. Basket-making traditions introduced by Moravian missionariesha\e a recognizable European style also found inbaskets made in Appalachia. Some traditions like mokojiimbie stilrwalking and calypso singing were devel-oped elsewhere in the Caribbean but are now part of theU.S. Virgin Islands culture. Some of these forms fromother islands remain distinct, but most have been givena Virgin Islands imprint. The styles and traditionsdistinctive to the Islands are what Virgin Islanders call 20 their native culture. In the context of Caribbean creo-lization, the concept of native is thereby given a newmeaning. Native culture here means an ernergent,continuously evolving, local Creole culture that is dis-tinct from similar cultures of other islands. This nativeculture absorbs and reworks cultural practices whichcame and are still coming from both outside and withinthe Caribbean.St. ThomasIn 1666, the Danish crown chartered the Danish WestIndia Company to occupy and take possession of St.Thomas. However, the first European settlers, as onmost other Virgin Islands, were English or Dutch.Strategically located at the head of the chain of theLesser Antilles with the Atlantic Ocean on one side andthe Caribbean Sea on the other, St. Thomas is endowedwith a deep and protected harbor. It was a principal sitein the trade of manufactured goods, enslaved humanbeings and sugar products between Europe, Africa andthe Americas. The island became a central holdingplace for slaves brought from the African Gold Coast.The port prospered as trading schooners constantlysailed in and out of the harbor exporting sugar, indigo,spices, cotton, grain, tobacco, and fruits, and importingand transhipping manufactured goods and slaves.Because of Danish neutrality during the 17th century-European wars and St. Thomas' good harbor andlocation, the island became a haven for pirates, many ofwhom became legendary figures and left their names tomark the landscape. Tourists stop and gaze fromDrake's Seat and visit Blackbeard's and Bluebeard'scastles, now incorporated into hotels.Initially, St. Thomas had tobacco and cotton planta-tions. They were, in the most part, replaced by sugar by1765. But by 1815 the island's value as a trading hubcame to dominate its economy and culture. MostSt.Thomians came to see their traditions centered aroundthe urban marketplace, international trade, and city life-styles in the deep water port of Chadc:)tte Amalie. In anexpanding economy dominated by energetic, cosmo- Childreit play in Ihv lUv, \,iitl 111 <1950 (Photo hy CUiutie Miilunn) ii,.llc Aiiuihc. .s/ Thi loe Let Place, a French fisheniuiii fnfiii Sr Viomas. ncinates af>e>soiuil experience (Pholu hy Mtirm Picayo)politan merchants, an urban class of workers andartisans? including a growing free Black population?built the grand residences and shouldered the work oftransport and craftsmen's trades. Urban neighborhoodsdeveloped. These were a center of social life andhelped define the character of Chariotte Amalie. Savanne,one of the eadiest of these neighborhoods, lives inisland memory as the epitome of urban native culture.The cultural complexity of the island increased as mi-grants arrived from other islands for political andeconomic reasons. The vital communities of Frenchfishermen of Frenchtown and the French farmers in theNorthside, now recognized as native, were formed bysettlers who emigrated in the 1860s from St. Barthelemy,known locally as St. Barths. Historian Antonio Jarvisrelates how they first came to the island:Shortly after slavery was abolished, in 1848, twomembers of the LaPlace family left St. Barths for St.Thomas of which they had heard a great deal. Theseyoung men found that Chadotte Amalie was still avery bu,sy port but they noticed also that the nativesneglected the land; the green hillsides were alreadyuncultivated and copse-grown; so, instead of engag-ing in fishing, they thought they might do better bysupplying vegetables to the people of the city. TheseLaPlace boys soon climbed over St. Peter Mountainand Crown and discovered that Barret and Hullestates were good sites for farms, and more fertilethan other areas. They worked for three years untilthey were no longer renters, but owners of the land.On off-days they caught fish, as it was a quick cashcrop. After three years of living in St. Thomas, theydecided to make a trip back to St. Barthelemy to getthe gids they had left behind. It hardly took any timefor Trudi and Doni LaPlace to marry and find twentyother adventurers willing to go back to St. Thomas.This was the beginning of a continuous migration,stopped only by the United States immigration laws.(Jarvis 1944: 54-55)Distinct French communities continue. Known as "Frenchies," those who live in Frenchtown are primarily 21 fishermen and boat builders, though most of the workthey now do is repair. The traditional form is thepirogue, a dugout canoe carved from a tree taink. InFrenchtown backyards, fishpots are made and mended.Frenchies who live on the north side of the island cometo the market early on Saturday to sell their herbs, faiitsand vegetables.French woven straw hats and baskets are still madeby a few women in Frenchtown, but in earlier times,almost all women made their own. Married womenwore a calecbe, a shoulder length headdress of plaitedstraw covered with white cloth, resembling hats wornby peasant women in Brittany. Men also wore distinc-tive hats. Even today, most older women keep rolls ofplaited grass from St. Earths to make hats for Sunday orspecial occasions.In the late 19th centuiy, when steamships replacedsailing vessels, St. Thomas became less important as atrading port. But it continued to be an important coalingstation, or fuel stop, for coal-powered ships until the1930s. Older Virgin Islanders still remember coalingtimes when men and women carried baskets of coal ontheir heads to the docks. They were given a "tally, " acoin which could be cashed in for two cents, for eachbasket. Traditional sea shant>'s still heard today, like "Roll Isabella Roll," comment on the tally days and theexploitation of the coal carriers:Roll Isabella roll, oh roll Isahclki roll.Roll Isabella roll, the clanui shopkeepers gotthe island doiv)i . Went to the shop with a qiiartter) to buyfifteen cent thing.When I looked in me hand, the damnshopkeeper give me tallyfor change.Although it is no longer a shipping center, St. Thomasis still a busy port Cruise ships dominate its harbor, andtourists replace the traders of earlier times. But aspectsof traditional island life persist. The combination of pontown lifestyles and enduring cultural heritage, togetherwith a constant flow of ideas and people from theoutside, have made St. Thomians at once cosmopolitansand keepers of tradition. Fishermen still go out at dawnin Hull Bay and sell their catch by the docks. Fishpotsare made and mended in the back yards of homes. Thenorthside French farmers continue to grow herbs andvegetables in terraced gardens. Johnny cake and fry fishare fried in coal pots at the beach on Sunday. Womenprepare traditional cakes and candy, and men andwomen make guavaberr\' wine for holidays. Yoimgpeople are still taught hand crafts, many of which wereintroduced by the Moravian missionaries. And songsbased on traditional forms continue to be composed; anumber of calypso songs about the recent hurricane,Hugo, were submitted to a "Hugo Song Contest" spon-sored by local radio station "Lucky 13." St. JohnA little over two miles from St. ThcMiias, St. Johnbecame part of the Danish crown in the early 1700s. St.John was first acquired to expand sugar cultivation, butthe plantations did not last long. One of the earliest andinitially successful slave rebellions in the Caribbeantook place in St. John in 1733- That same year the islandwas devastated by drought and a hurricane. Manyplantations were destroyed, and many plantation ownersreturned to Europe. Freed Blacks from other islandsacquired .some of the land and attempted to revitalizethe sugar plantations. Although sugar cultivation con-tinued for some time, it never became as extensive as ithad been before the rebellion.From the mid- 19th to the mid-20th century, thereemerged a new class of estate owners who, thoughlandowners, were relatively poor and less powerfulthan those in the larger colonial system. They had onlylimited need for laborers and cultivated smaller plots ofland. As the plantation system declined, plantationlaborers continued to sustain their peasant society onthe fringes of the plantations by gardening for subsis-tence and internal trade. According to anthropologistKaren Fog Olwig, the provision grounds allotted toslaves for their own subsistence enabled them to de-velop a system of production and distribution thatoutlived the plantation (Fog Olwig 1987: 6-7).To this day, a social infrastructure resists exploitationfrom the outside, supported by a traditional subsistenceeconomy and cooperative behavior. Guy Benjamin, alocal historian and educator, recalls his growing up inhis book Me and My Beloved Virgin St. John U.S.A.(1981:1 ), "Ea.st End was a self-sustained village. We hadour cows, goats, pigs, chickens, fish and seafood, sea-grapes from the shore, fruits from the land, our school,and six or seven sailboats to go to St. Thomas for all ourdesires." The community's eleven families shared thework in hard times and in good times.Fishing, gardening, charcoal making, masoniy, herbalhealing and traditional cooking, all support a vital local Mrs. .Marguerita Fretl stretches, shapes, and twists "/tiirhniie" c?inlyon a marble slab as chililreii aii.xiously await the ciittinf> and cool-ing of this hiinwmaile treat (Photo byJanet Burton) 22 exchange system augmented by an inter-islanel trade.Benjamin recalls the first motorboat he ever saw, "Eveiyweek the Adella went to St. Thomas with her load ofcows and returned filled to her gunwales with sugar,flour, matches, oil, lard, butter, fat pork, salted beef, riceand cornmeal" (Benjamin 1981: 28).Although gardeners, fishermen, basketmakers andothers invc^lved in traditional occupations are nowturning to the tourist industry for a living, they resist thedestruction of their identity, persist in their traditicjns,and transform foreign lifestyles into their own. MissLucy earns her living touring visitors around St. John inher flower-decorated taxi. She drives visitors from oneend of the island to the other on the recently paved roadwhich connects the more commercial port of Cmz Ba\'on the western end with the more traditional East Endand Coral Bay. She stops by the sugar apple, gua\a,coconut and genip trees explaining their cultural,culinary and medicinal importance. A tour of the islandwith such a guide is a trip into the tales of the island, thelore of the "bush" or wild herbs, and a history of itscommunities and culture.Like tourism, the dominant presence of the i\atit)nalPark Service has greatly affected the daily life andculture of St. Johnians. In 1956 the National Park Ser\iceacquired two-thirds of the island from LauranceRockefeller as a national park. This acquisition hasgenerated mixed feelings among St. Johnians. On theone hand, the Park Service has protected the land frommassive tourist development. On the other hand, St.Johnians lack full access to the land resources which arecritical to the continuity of their lifestyle and crafttraditions. St. CroixSt. Croix, the only island of the three principal LIS.Virgin Islands with large areas suitable for farming,became a classic Caribbean planter .society. Intrigueand conflict among the Dutch, English and French gavethe island its claim to seven flags. Denmark bought itfrom the French, who had abandoned it when theyordered all inhabitants removed to the then boomingplantations of the island of St. Domingue (which be-came Haiti). After the Danish purchase, and because ofthe Danes' lack of interest in settling there, English andDutch settlers from St. Thomas and St. John and from the"down islands" to the east ? St. Kitts, Nevis andBarbados? were invited to start estates, the local namefor plantations. A "free coloured" class is mentioned indocuments as early as 1744, some of whom becameestate owners.The Danes wavered about emancipation, but aliberal Danish governor, Peter von Scholten, declaredthe end of slavery during a major slave uprising in I84S.After emancipation, liberated slaves were replaced on the plantations by contract Viorkers from the downislands.Migrants frcjm Nevis, St. Kitts, Barbados, and Antiguabrought with them dramatic and narrative traditions,including "tea meetings" and "masquerade jigs," whichwere incorporated into the Cnician cultural repertoire.A tea meeting was a community social event thatincluded an oratory contest and a talent show. The teameeting was charged with pomp and humor. Partici-pants challenged each other's oratorical skills andknowledge of history and current events.Masquerading is a long established tradition on theisland. On holidays, small costumed groups would "dance masquerade" from estate to estate, singing andjesting as they went. The procession concluded in town,in either Christiansted or Frederiksted. Today thistradition has been transformed into an organized townparade. A "masquerade jig" is the fancy footworkdanced by some of the masquerade trcuipes.Masquerading dance traditions survive in Cmciandance music. One of these forms is quadrille, a traditionintroduced in the 19th century- by European planters,which became very important in Caician social life.Once held on the estates imcler palm-thatched shelters,today's dances can be found in St. Gerald's Hall inFrederiksted accompanied by "fungi" or "scratch" bands.Fungi is named for a traditional dish that combines a\ariety of available ingredients, so the fungi band? alsocalled scratch because of a gourd "scratched" forpeicussion ? brings together a variety of instrumentsincluding fife, drums, banjo, bass, tmmpet, bass guitar.Instruments change according to band. Both fimgi stewand a fungi band have a down-home, informal st^'le.Cariso and calypso songs comment on current eventsand individuals, voice complaints and take sides inctjntroversies. Cariso's praise and derision came to theislands with slavery. Its extemporaneous compositionand flattering or satirical content make cariso theforerunner of contemporary calypso. Immigrant groups A scriitch hciinl pfifanns trculUunial ijiiclhi? music. iiuUfieiunis tothe \'ii:i>:ii h/iiiiih Fniiii U'/l !i'lliiii fnpf tj-,^ ]iipci, ciihl iik'i'lclciPhnt., L-niiUcsv the \uii Scholten ('nllcaim,. Eiiul liiui PiihhcLihniiy mill Aycbiivs, St Tljoiiius. \'irf^iii hlciiuls) 23 Ill the 1930s, wiirkel rciulurs inspecl/iv^h ImirisKnis recentlyarrivedfrom neighboring islane/s. Trade with adjacent islands stillcreates spontaneous marketplaces like this one on the wharf inChristiansted. St. Croix. (Photo bv RaymondJacobs ) have often been cariso's target. For example, the carisosong "Me Mother Had Tell Me Not to Marry No Bobajan"warns girls about the "Bobajans" or "Bajans" ? menfrom Barbados who came to work in large numbers afteremancipation. A Cnician cariso singer commented onthe rhetorical power of the songs in an interview:"When you did anything that was wrong, they look atyou from head to foot ? and they composed a songabout you. And that lasts forever. Even though you die,somebody remembers the song."In 1878 a rebellion now commemorated as "Fire-burn," because half the town of Frederiksted wasburned down, erupted in reaction to desperate eco-nomic conditions and restrictive post-emancipationlabor laws. Mary Thomas or "Queen Mary," a canefieldworker and one of the leaders of the rebellion, iscelebrated in cariso songs. The following stanza, stillpopular among cariso singers, praises Queen Mar\''sreadiness to die for her cause:Queen Mary - 'tis where you going to hum-Queen Mary^ - 'tis where you going to bum-Don 't tell me nothing fallJustfetch the match and oilBassin (^ChTisiiansted) Jailhouse, 'tis irhereI'm going to bum.Other aspects of Crucian life and history also becomethemes for songs? conflicts with estate managers andforemen, the economic hard times in the 1950s, horse-racing and, most recently, hurricane Hugo. Many acalypso was written about hurricane Hugo and per-formed during the traditional celebration of the Day ofthe Kings this year. Although calypso developed inTrinidad, it has assumed a distinct style in the VirginIslands. Calypsonian Mighty Pat assessed the situationafter the hurricane in his song:When I looked around and saw the conditionofour Virgin Island.I tell myselfadvantage can 't done.One day you rich. Next day you poor. One day you up the ladder. Next day youcrawling on thefloor.Beauty is skin deep: material things isfor a time.A co)Tupted soul willfind no peace of mind.I think that is all our gale Hugo was trying tosay to all mankind.As in St. John, cane workers survived on crops andanimals raised on provision grounds of the large estates.Richard A. Schrader, Sr. describes these grounds in hishistory, Notes ofa Crucian Son-.The nega ground on the estates' land was truly ablessing. From it came: tanya, yam, okra, water-melon, cabbage, corn, cassava, pumpkin, potatoand even kallalloo for the Crucian kitchen table.For saltin (meat) the people raised chickens, hogs,goats and sheep. A few people owned milkingcows. But most favored goat milk and raised theirchildren on it. Beef was produced by the big landowners with large herds of cattle. (Schrader 1989:31)Sugar cultivation continued into the 1960s althoughthe economy had begun to shift with the opening of theHess oil refinery, the Martin Marietta alumina plant, anda boom in tourism that continued to draw immigrantsfrom the down islands. Immigrants from the mainlandU.S., known in the islands as "continentals," came in atthis time as school teachers for the mushroomingmigrant population and later moved into hotel andrestaurant management work. Much farm land has nowbecome grazing fields for beef and dairy cattle andgoats. Rastafarian communities from Jamaica (and laternative born) began to settle in the area in the 1970s,cultivating vegetable gardens as others turned to .serviceoccupations.Puerto Ricans, now a significant part of the popula-tion, came primarily from the islands of Culebra andVieques to work as cane cutters. After less than ageneration, many have become government workersand small businessmen. Although they are establishedin their new communities, like many of the otherimmigrants they maintain a link with their homeland. It Virgin Islands rum factory workers bottle and label eiiii,iii h'li.before it is distributed to local ami international markets iFbibyJewel Ross Sage) 24 has become traditional for the mayor of Vieques to takea boat to St. Croix on "Friendship Day" to commemoratethe ties between Crucians and Puerto Ricans. During theChristmas season, families visit between islands inparranda or holiday serenading traditions.Puerto Rican traditions both from the European andAfrican ends of the Caribbean cultural spectaim havebecome part of Crucian culture. Among these arebaquine or songs for children's wakes, and the rosariocantao sung in the highlands of Puerto Rico in themonth of May, the month of the flowers, for the Day ofthe Cross:Mayo florido. Blossoming May,Mes de lasflores - Month of the flowers -Aqiii te cantan. To you they sing,Los trovadores. The troubadours.A traditional Puerto Rican song form, the plena, alsothrives in St. Croix and provides social commentaiymuch like cariso and calypso.U.S. Virgin Islands andThe FestivalNative cultural patterns represent both historicalcontinuities and an ever changing pattern of adaptationsand amalgamations. Several key values and orienta-tions continue to characterize local culture in the VirginIslands. Chief among these is education. Islanders alsohonor skill: with words, with crafts, in work. "Throwingwords" is a highly valued verbal skill characteristic of theCaribbean in general? the ability to contend effectivelywith vv'ords in social, ceremonial and competitive situ-ations. As described by Roger Abrahams,The range of verbal repertory includes the ability tojoke aggressively, to 'make war' with words by insultand scandal pieces, to tell Ananzi stories (any kind offolk tale), and to make speeches and toasts appropri-ate to ceremonial occasions. (Abrahams 1983: 57)Expressive forms are as vital in everyday life as in Salvacliir Friiiiiisii. Aiiuhli'r I'cli.w Sitnlas I'jiciinuiLU'iii iiinl i ,cihOrtiz reheane I'lieHu Ricliii ii'lkim tiiiies in Ihcir hat.kyan/ iii StCroix I Photo by Daniel Sheehyl rituals and celebrations. On the three islands there arealso rich traditions of local histor\- and personal narra-tives.Another value islanders hold in common is what theycall "good manners." These go beyond politeness in theappropriate recognition of another person upon meet-ing and before engaging in social or business conversa-tion. Good manners are learned in the home andreinforced in school. Richard Schrader remarks:Manners and respect, a common theme in school,continually rang in our ears, and were hammeredinto our brains at home. 'Yoh must always havemanners and never be disrespectful to older people.Respect and manners is a passport that can take yohthrough this world,' my parents would say. (Schrader1989: 21)Family ties reinforce cultural unity between islands.It is not unusual to have family from at least two of thethree islands. This is most evident at Christmas timewhen serenaders go from house to house visiting familyand friends, bringing cheer with the "Guavaberry Song."Today they travel on safari busses through St. Thomasand St. John, and last year they included St. Croix.These cultural values currently face a new set ofchallenges. Virgin Islanders have hi.storically struggledto control their destinies and define their own lifestyles,values and aspirations. Exertion of cultural control,even when enslaved, is represented to this day by suchforms as cariso, calypso and storytelling, in foodwaysand the practice of "bush" or herbal medicine, in thetraditional occupations of fishing, charcoal making andmasonry. Currently, Virgin Islanders, as people through-out the United States, and indeed the world, face thechallenges of mass popular culture, tourist culture, andthe multiple cultures of new immigrants. How canVirgin Islanders appropriate and revitalize mass culturewithout falling into the tourist industry's definitions ofnative culture? To what cultural forms will the ongoingcreative process of amalgamation between native andimmigrant cultures give birth?John Kuo Wei Tchen, in an address entitled "Raceand Cultural Democracy," presented at the SmithsonianInstitution's Martin Luther Kingjr. celebration last year,addresses the pluralistic nature of American society. Hisobservation that ethnic groups in the U.S. "have sharedhistories" and 'interwoven identities" seems equallydescriptive of communities on the three AmericanVirgin Islands. These cultural identities, he continues,are both "constructed and multi-faceted."The U.S. Virgin Islands Festival program thus not onlypresents the "interwoven identities" of the islands, butine.scapably becomes part of the process of constructingthem. The program has been researched and designedby scholars and community members of the threeislands in collaboration with the curator and Office ofFolklife Programs staff. Researchers have documented 25 In her yard in St Croix. Mrs. Lia ilk- Ruhcrts l uls a siinarcunf slcilkforfamilv andfriends (Photo by MatyJane Smile) traditions tiiat have been maintained informally overtime. These traditions are practiced in communitysettings such as favorite fishing coves in St. John,Frenchie Northside gardens of St. Thomas, or the Christ-mas parade of St. Croix; in intimate domestic settingsand in work places; in markets and in dance halls.Local researchers suggested an interesting strategyfor interpreting traditions of the Virgin Islands to createa public program. This was to identify "cultural touch-stones" or historical points of reference that are stilluseful in understanding the present. The big yard, themarketplace, and public celebration were selected asmeaningful cultural touchstones to all three islands.The big yard developed in urban neighborhoods ofSt. Thomas as shared area behind row houses whereworkers lived. The big yard was the setting for everydayactivity, casual or planned meetings, storytelling underthe tamarind tree, laundering, cooking, children's play,and gossiping. Although the St. Thomian big yard is notfound as an urban space in St. Croix or in St. John, theconcept of big yard can refer in general to a communalplace for shared domestic activity on all three islands.While the big yard shapes the private world of thehome, the marketplace is at the crossroads of commercewhere people sell and trade, throw words, preach,campaign and catch up on events of the day. Its valuesare public; its gestures and jests may be broad.Socially inclusive and temporarily transforming, cele-brations join domestic and public spaces and bring theislands together, whether it is carnival on St. Thomas,the Day of the Kings Festival on St. Croix, or Emancipa-tion Day on St. John.The big yard, the marketplace and celebration arecontextualizing, interpretive devices that representcontinuity in the folklife of the islands and that serve asbackdrops for exploring contemporary cultural issues ofconcern to Virgin Islanders. In these discussions, as in performances and demonstrations, multiple voicescollaborate in telling stories their own way, in a dialoguewith one another, with the public, and with the some-times complex voices within. Olivia Cadaval is Director of the Office of FolklifePrograms' Quincentenary Program and curator of theFestival's U.S. Virgin Islands program. She has con-ducted research and collaborated in public program-ming with the Washington, D.C. Latino and Caribbeancommunitiesfor over a decade. She received her Ph.D.from the George Washington University American Stud-ies/Folklife Program.Citations and Further ReadingsAbrahams, Roger. 1983. The Man of Words in theWest Indies: Performance and the Emergence of CreoleCidture. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins UniversityPress.Benjamin, Guy H. 198T Me andMy Beloved VirginSt. John, U.S.A. New York: Benjamin's Publishing.Boyer, William W. 1983. America 's Virgin Islands: AHistory ofHuman Rights and Wrongs. Durham: Caro-lina Academic Press.Fog Olwig, Karen. 1987. Cultural Adaptation &Resistance On St. John. Gainesville: University ofFlorida Press.Jarvis, Antonio. 1944. We Virgin Islands and TheirPeople. Philadelphia: Dorrance & Company.Lewis, Gordon K. 1972. The Virgin Islands - ACaribbean Lilliput. Fvanston: Northwestern UniversityPress.Lewisohn, Florence. 1964. Divers Information onTloe Romantic History of St. Croix - From The Time ofColumbus Until Today. Bo.ston: St. Croix LandmarksSociety-.Mintz, Sidney W. 1974. Caribbean Transfonnatio)is.Chicago: Aldine.Paiewonsky, Isidor. 1987. Eyewitness Accounts ofSlave/y in the Danish West Indies Also Graphic Tales ofOther Slave Happenings on Ships a)id Plantations. St.Thomas, U.S.V.I.Peterson, Arona. 1974, 1975, 1982, 1987. Herbs andProverbs. St. Thomas, U.S.V.I.Rivera, Eulalie C. 1987. Growing Up On St. Croix. St.CroLx, U.S.V.I.SchraderSr., Richard A. 1989. Notes ofa Crucian Son.St. Croix, U.S.V.IVails, Lito. 1981. What a Pistarkle!. St. John. U.S.V.I.Suggested ListeningVirgin Island Voices. Radio Program produced byMaiyjane Soule, 1989.loop, Zoop. Zoop. Recording produced by Maiy JaneSoule. 26 Rounding the SeineGuy H. BenjaminGuyH. Benjamin remembers growing up in East End in St. John in hisMn and My BelovedVirgin St. John, U.S.A. Mr. Benjamin has had a long careeras an educator He began teachingimmediately aftergraduating as thefirst St. Johnianfrom Charlotte Amalie High School in St.nomas. He is now retiredand lives in New York City in the winterand in St.John in thesummer. Even,' time I remember our boyhood day.s inEa.st Fnd, I still feel correct in .saying that noother children had as much fun. joy, andhappiness as we had.Our community had just eleven families. My godfa-ther owned a seine and a large boat to hold it. He wouldkeep the boat ready, and whenever a school of fries(minnows) came into the bay, we would be looking outfor the sweet carang (the cavally, a member of the jackfamily], the beautiful yellow tail snapper, and the fatblue runner loLir nati\e name, "hard nose"). Theygenerally came one or two days after the fries.If they were sweet head fries, they never had achance to la.st too long near the shore. The men threwtheir nets over them and would have to ease them to theshore, so many would they cover at one time. Then theyemptied the fries in their boxes. Everybody in thevillage would come to get a share. I could hardly waitto get home with them. My aunts would jump on thefries, take off the heads, and wash them. Meanwhile mygrandmother gave me the mortar, with the black pep-per, onions, and salt. This I had to pound until it wasfine and mixed. Then my aunt would season the frieswhile the flour batter was being prepared. Many |X-oplethen made roussayed (fried the fish with lard, butter, orsalad oil). The fries were then placed in the batter andcooked Ambrosia! The whole operation took 30minutes combined, from sea to stomach. Nothing canbe finer than to be eating batter from the sweet headtries. This year, Goldie (Mrs. Golda Samuel) gave mesome at Thanksgiving. Is it any wonder that I o\'erateagain?In the meantime, the men were on the lookout for thefish. You heard the signal? Roundoff! Everybody leftthe houses and headed for the beach, every little boyand girl, grandmothers, aunts, uncles, and cousins bythe dozens.All of us small boys were out in the water. We mustkeep the fish from coming to the ropes so we "beatwater."The men were out at the back, holding back the cork that's attached to the seine. The women pulled the ropesto get the seine in as fast as possible before the fish gota chance to realize that they were a captive supper,lunch, or breakfast. And all of us naked boys got nearerto land, so that we soon would be pulling the seine.We had the two arms in the surf. We had to let thetries out ,so we could see what we'd caught. Abeauteous sight! The fish were going around in perfectcircles, gli.stening silver and spotted gold. We hadcaught carang and yellow tails. There is no prettier sightany place than these beautiful dinners swimming around. I wondered if they knew their fate? Then my onlythought was to help to get them on shore, which we did.Now it was sharing time. First, they were all dividedin two? one share for the owner, the other for the restof us. No one was omitted, not even the landowner.Ever>' child, woman, and man was given a share. Whenwe caught the blue-eyed bonito, if each one could notget a whole one, then we sliced it in junks [chunks] andwe all shared. If that were communal living, then wewere the first Danish-American communists in theVirgin Islands.This was the happy, glorious life we lived in East End,with our sea which provided us with natural health andlife.It my grandmother wanted a lobster for Sundaymorning breakfast, she would say, "Guy, bring home alobster with you tonight." I would go to my favorite rockand take out a lobster and bring it home. My auntswould cook it in a kerosene tin on the fire. I would eatthe legs while it was cooking? so succulent and sweet.We had lobsters like this, even after I returned to St.John to teach. Then Milton would say, "Benjy, cook theraisin fungy [cornmeal dish] and I'm going for thelobsters. " In an hour, he'd be back with at least four. It wouldbe a whole gang of hungry men and boys. But we'dhave enough and some to spare.Progress has taken away our lobsters. Today, we arepaying $20.00 for a three-pound lobster, and we mustgo far out in the ocean bed to dive for them. 27 Folk ArchitectureMyron D. JacksonMyronJackson was bom in St. nomas and works for the U.S. Virgin Islands DepaiUnent ofPlanning and Natural Resources. Division ofHistoric PreservationA barely sui'viving example of folk architec-ture, the wattle and daub house had itsorigins in Africa and proliferated in theVirgin Islands countryside. It is strong anddurable, and some of the structures have survivedhurricanes. Variations on the wattle and daub themealso can be found in other parts of the Caribbean, SouthAmerica, Asia and Europe. Several examples are stillstanding on the island of St. John.Building materials for this house were taken fromthe natural forest and surrounding areas. Tropicalhardwoods and tyre palm leaves were selected and cutat times that coincided with particular phases of themoon. Craftsmen say working with the moon ensuredthat wood and palm leaves would not be eaten byinsects.Supporting poles usually were cut to a length ofabout seven feet and placed into the ground several feetapart. Smaller branches were woven through thesesupporting poles in a pattern similar to basketwork.Fresh cow dung, clay or a mixture of sand, lime andwater was u.sed to plaster the exterior of the structure.Sometimes a white lime wash would be used on theexterior. Roofs were usually of the hip or gable type,covered with grass or palm leaves. Tyre palm seems tohave been the more favored material.Mrs. Alice Daniels, 96, recalling life on the westernend of St. Thomas, tells of how the country people cametogether to assist one another in building homes. Mostof the actual construction was done by men, whilewomen gathered palm leaves and did other work.Women often prepared dishes of hearty food to makethe event a festive one. There would also be singing offolk and religious songs, gossiping and storytelling.The houses were used primarily for sleeping andhousehold storage. Cooking and other chores weredone in the surrounding yard, in which many familiesalso maintained gardens and kept animals. This was alifest\'le tA'pical of many Afro-Caribbean people.Few Virgin Islanders today remember this type ofhouse construction, but on St. John surviving examplesof the wattle and daub house were in use up to recenttimes. Several families in the Coral Bay area haveretained the houses, and other examples can be foundon old plantations and estates on the island. One familypatriarch, Mr. Winfield James, who was 92 years old when interviewed, spoke of several structures he hadbuilt on St. John.Folk CottagesWood frame West Indian houses are a folk form thatcan be found in a number of variations in the VirginIslands. Houses of this type are visible throughout thethree major towns ? Charlotte Amalie. Christianstedand Fredriksted.Charlotte Amalie is the oldest of the towns on St.Thomas. Many wooden structures can be found on theeast and west sides of its commercial district. Within theareas defined by the structures are historic neighbor-hoods of working class citizens. The Savanne district isthe oldest community on St. Thomas. Established in themid 1700s for the large number of free Blacks in the thenDanish West Indies, the area was also reserved for alarge number of Sephardic Jews who came to theCaribbean to escape the Spanish Inquisition and otherreligious persecution.Structures were built facing the street and wererestricted by the size of their lots, which could be eitherpurchased or leased. Many houses were constaicted ona masonry foundation of local materials and importedEuropean bricks, which were brought on sailing shipsas ballast. Plaster finishes were done with a lime mortar,which was prepared by burning cut coral stones in a kilnto produce a lime powder. This powder was turned tomortar by mixing it with beach sand, water and some-times molasses.Local tropical hardwoods were sometimes used, butfor the most part, imported pitch pine was the favoredmaterial for the skeleton of the structure atop themasonry foundation. Cypress shingle or shipboardsiding was used for exterior sheeting.For the construction of roofs, craftsmen chose eitherthatch, shingle, tile or, later, galvanized sheeting. Inwooden folk cottages, the roof took one of the threebasic styles? gable, hip or shed. The hip roof was thetype most commonly found in the Danish West Indies.Its form can be traced to both Africa and Europe. Thisroof shape, usually constructed with steep pitches, hasseveral advantages. In Europe the hip roof design wasused to prevent large accumulations ofsnow on rooftops.In Africa it allowed quick drainage of rain from thethatch roof. In tropical architecture, its high ceilings 28 Viet 1 1he It'll hy vi'diy ofhiirrictinc ^ciis(iii\. tin iihiiiulmiuil ucittlvand ciciiih house still suiinls in Si /nhii. ils htisheliniik stnicliiivexposed by the elements (Photo hy Fred Sahieooksy)allowed hot air to rise. This feature, in addition to thecross ventilation from windows and doors, enabled thestructures to remain cool during the hot summer months.The durability' of hip roofs was evident after thedevastation of hurricane Hugo in September 1989. Thefour sloping sides of the hip roof present minimalresistance to the wind, allowing it to blow over andaround the roof structure. As an added safety feature,craftsmen would build the roofs of galleries separatefrom that of the main structure. This would ensure thatwhen a storm tore off the roof of a more exposed andvailnerable gallen,', the roof of the main house would notgo with it.Wooden doors and shutters were simply detailed andgave protection from the elements. These had simplemetal hinges and were fastened from the inside bymeans of a wooden bar cradled by metal brackets, hi-terior wooden jalousies allowed privacy and ventilation.Metal fittings were usually forged by local blacksmiths.Galleries were not ver>' common with the smallest, olderframe cottages. However, one would always find deco-rative trim attached.On the island of St. Croix one can find an assortmentof decorative trim. Frederiksted is known for its ginger-bread, an impressive decorative feature. Gingerbreadrefers to the strips of ornately carved designs used alongthe roof ledge and balconies, which give the effect oflace trim.In 1878 Frederiksted was \irtually burnt to theground during the "Fire Burn" carried out by Africanswho wanted an end to slavery. Although emancipationhad been granted in 1848, Crucians were still under theyoke of the White planters who continued to exploitthem. During the period of recon.stnjction of the town,many former slaves acquired property and moved infrom neighboring estates. Wood houses became verypopular.During this era of the Industrial Revolution, massproduction and modern transportation brought greaterwealth to an ever-increasing number of people in theUnited States and Europe. This accumulation resultedin a steady growth of the middle class and a proliferationof its style of opulence. The style was imitated by localland and property owners who adapted publishedpatterns to suit their own taste and homegrown aes-thetic. In European architecture, Victorian Gothic and Ital-ian Villa themes were in vogue. Noveau riches in theAmericas seized and embellished these styles usingwood as their principal building material. The actualconstruction techniques of the wooden frame cottageson all three islands were similar, although the constnac-tion terminology sometimes differed from island toisland.This method of constniction continued up to the mid1930s. The introduction of American cut-and-nail tech-niques eventually replaced the practice of mortise andtenon construction. The old method, howe\er, can stillbe found in neighboring islands.Most of the structures in the Virgin Islands weredesigned and constructed by skilled, local carpenterswho passed their techniques from one generation to thenext by oral tradition. They took pride in their creations,and they built three beautiful towns. Their work repre-sents a fusion of European and African contributions.Today many of our wooden structures are on theverge of collapse. It is incumbent on us to restore andto preserve for future generations this architecturalheritage, which represents a history of people's livesand the times they lived in. Homes built by Afro-Caribbean people are now primarily of concrete. Intro-duced into the islands in the early 1900s, this type ofstructure represents a new era in Caribbean architec-ture. But my question is, at what cost? As we see thewooden frame cottage disappear from our countryside,towns and neighborhoods, they are being replaced withforeign and insensitive reinforced concrete and steelframe monsters. One can't help but feel a sense ofdisplacement, though others see in these developmentsa sign of progress, of our entrance into modern times.The new structures also speak of our changingrelationship with the land. As we house our people inhigh-rise, multi-level complexes, we radically alter theirrelationship with the environment and with a way of lifethat involved direct contact with the earth. The conse-quences are grave. We can change our way of living,but only so much before we, ourselves, become dis-placed. Our historic towns and neighborhoods provideus a sense of regional identity and represent ourinherited cultural legacy. We are one with the tradition. Neighhiii-s conslnicl a thalched roo/hiil in St 'Ihomns in the /9thcentnir (Photo cuiirlesy the \'iigiii Islands Depiirtiiient of Plan-ning and Natural Resources) 29 SavanneRuth M. Moolenaar Ruth Moolenaar is a retired educator and coordinator ofthe 1973 Project Introspection j\.the U.S. Virgin Islands Depaiinient ofEducation.A Historical PerspectiveThe port town of Charlotte Amalie on St. Thomas wasfounded to serve the needs of early Danish traders andplanters. Savanne, or Savan, the northwestern subdivi-sion of Charlotte Amalie, was established to providehousing for an increasing number of manumitted slavesor "free coloureds," as they were called. This group,having gained their freedom by direct purchase or bybaptism, left the rural estates on which they worked andlived and moved to the town. Although legally free, theywere treated as an inferior class and were subjected torigid restrictions, As reported in Emancipation in theDanish West Indies, Eye Witness Accounts II, by EvaLawaetz, "the free colored were banned from certainpunishment for certain offenses. In addition, they hadto always have on their person a FRIBREV (Letter ofFreedom) to prove they were not slaves." In the mid1700s Governor General Peter Von Scholten passedseveral laws to protect the rights of the free coloureds.Unfortunately, many of the freed Blacks were neverapprised of their rights. So large was their number in St.Thomas that it was agreed to sell lots in the Savanne areato facilitate their needs. Thus, the neighborhood was es-tablished around 1764-65.The character of the neighborhood was evidenced bythe construction of its houses. In contrast to themasonry, European-styled buildings and homes of thecommercial district, houses of Savanne were smallwooden frames covered with shingles. Described bysome architects as vernacular row, the prevailing designwas a long row of contiguous houses that formed an L-or U-shaped structure. Others were individual housesof the same wooden frames but having a small balcony.Built a few feet above the ground these elevated homeswere reached by wooden or masonry steps. Under theraised houses children found safe havens for play, andnesting hens used these shaded areas as good hidingplaces for their eggs. One long, winding road ranthrough the center of the neighborhood.Economy of the AreaThere was no alternative in Savanne to the trading and other businesses of the commercial district. Thepeople of Savanne were obligated to leave their neigh-borhood to seek employment. Many women and a few-men were engaged in "carrying coal," a job that involvedcarrying huge baskets of bituminous coal on their headsup the planks of ships calling on St. Thomas. Coal wasused as fuel by the ships. Working from mid-day intothe wee hours of the next morning, coal workers werepaid with tallies which, when redeemed, netted two orthree cents per basket.Another source of employment for women waslaundry, which involved washing uniforms worn bygendarmes and other uniformed officers. The uniformswere made of heavy cotton like khaki, twill or denim,and when wet, the clothes exacted much energy fromthe women who did their work without modern ma-chinery and detergents. They hand scaibbed thegarments, slapped them on rocks, boiled them on anoutdoor fire and finally bleached them dr>- in the sun.Ironing was almost as tedious a chore done with acharcoal fired "goose."Some women earned a living as vendors in theBungalow at Market Square, now called the RothschildFrancis Square, or as peddlers throughout the town.The Bungalow vendors were a distinctive group. Col-orful in dress and spirited in temperament, they addeda special flavor to the area. Each woman had herindividual spot or table, which she guarded jealously.As a group they regulated prices and conformed tounwritten norms as they bargained their wares erf freshfruits, vegetables, herbs, spices, food and drinks.Men earned their living as cargo men, commonlaborers, janitors, or fishermen. Skilled workers emergedyears later from this group. These artisans exercisedgreat influence in the community. Operating small tradeshops within and outside the area, they satisfied thecommunity's needs in such areas as cabinet making,furniture repair, masonry, joinery, brick laying, barber-ing, dressmaking, needleworking, and cooking.Social ServicesBefore local government provided social services for 30 the needy, fraternal organizations played an importantrole in furnishing these services for the Savaneros.These institutions, in addition to providing financialassistance in time of need, supplied counseling andother services. Two such fraternal organizations inSavanne were the United Bretheren of the St. JosephAssociation and the Beloved Sisters of Mary and Joseph.The Harmonic Lodge and the Old Unity Lodge were alsopopular among Savaneros even though they werelocated outside the boundaries of Savanne.EntertainmentUnlike the courtyards of the commercial district,which served as extended work areas or as stables ofwealthy merchants, the Big Yards of Savanne were forentertainment and informal, traditional education. The.sewide open spaces bordering the long row houses wereidentified by landlord's name or by location. Therewere the Lockhart's Big Yard, Richard's Big Yard and theSealey Big Yard. Three popular yards outside of theSavanne area were Ross's Yard, Buck Hole, and Bar-racks Yard. On moonlight nights families gathered toshare stories, jokes, gossip, and family events; theyrecited poems, danced and sang in the Big ^'ards.Daytime activities were also plentiful. The people ofSavanne also frequented two pcjpular dance halls.Jubilee Hall and Dilley Hall. Additionally, the fraternallodges were a\ailable for social affairs.Political LifeSince Savanne was one of the most densely pcjpu-lated areas on the island, it attracted the attention ofpoliticians, who stumped the area at election timewooing voters. In the 1940s and later, the strength of apolitical party or its candidates hinged on support fromSavanne. The old Banaba Well, a popular landmarkformerly used as a water source, became the rostrumfrom which political candidates delivered fiery speeches.After these performances people gathered at nearby "Eva Grants Corner" for drinks and conversation. Middle-class and wealthy political candidates were sometimesviewed ironically by the Savaneros who were aware thattheir small homes and their food and drink wouldordinarily be scorned by these candidates outside ot anelection year.Several leaders were elected from Savanne. Theseindividuals fought tenaciously for improved wage laws,improved roads, better health facilities and most impor-tantly, for job opportunities. Today, people with theirroots in Savanne can be counted among the society's listof legislators, doctors, lawyers, civic and religiousleaders and other professionals.Other ImpactsFrom the 1930s education became high priority, and graduation from high school was considered an out-standing milestone in one's life. Unlike parents in thecommercial district, few Savaneros could send theirchildren to the mainland or to Europe for highereducation. Therefore, after high school graduation mostyoung men and women worked for the 'Virgin IslandsGovernment. Many of these individuals continued theireducation in the 1950s.Savanne TodayVisible change in the area is reflected in the houses.Quite different from their predecessors, many homesare now two- and three-story concrete buildings. Glassand aluminum shutters have replaced wooden win-dows and doors. Several wooden homes with shinglesremain, however, as testimonies to the eariy characterof the area.Unlike commercial Charlotte Amalie, few historicsites in Savanne remain to tell the community's history.One surviving site is the Jewish Cemetery, which servedthe group of Jews who fled from the island of St.Eu.statius in 1781 after the attack of Sir Rodney on thatisland. These Jewish members of the communitybecame ship owners, ship chandlers and brokers andparticipated in the slave trade. They became a vital partof the community and lived primarily in other urbanareas, but they were buried in Savanne, on Jode (fromJudah) Street." Other street names in Savanne are PileStrade, 'Vester Gade, Slagter Gade, Gamble Gade, SilkeGade, and Levkoi Strade.Currently Savanne is home to immigrant populationsfrom Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic and theeastern Islands. Blacks of Savanne earned a living inconditions resembling servitude while the Whites of thecommercial district flourished financially from the bus-tling trade of the town and its harbor. The sociology ofthe two groups reflected this difference. Citations AND Further ReadingsGjessing, Frederik and William MacLean. 1987.Historic Buildings ofSt. nomas and St. John. London:Macmillan Publishing Ltd.Jarvis, J. Antonio. 1938. A BriefHistory ofthe ViriiinIslands. St. Thomas: The Art Shop.Knox, John P. 1952. .-1 Historical Account of St.nomas. Reprinted 1966. St. Thomas: CV.I.Lawaetz, Eva. n.d. Emancipation i7i the Danish ^^"estIndies, Eyewitness Accou>its II (English Translation).The City Library, St. Thomas.Svensson, Ole, ed. nree Towns. Copenhagen:Tutein and Koch.Taylor, Charles Edwin. 1888. Leafletsfrom theDanish West Indies. London: Dawson and Sons.Reprinted 1970 by Negro Universities Press. 31 Tea Meeting Eulalie RiveraThe "Tea Meeting, "a combination ofuahety show and church social, is usually held duringthe Christmas holiday season. It consists ofa series of verbal perfoniiances introduced by aChairman to a King, Queen and Princess, who preside in appropriate costume. At the event,speeches arepompous, often ridiculous and replete with outlandi.'^h diction andJlamboyant or-namentation.The Tea Meeting was introduced to St. Croixfrom Barbados. It probably developed out offundraising church events. The name derivesfrom an attempt by Methodists to substitute tea-drinking occasionsfor those in which alcoholic beverages predominated.Older Crucians can still declaim parts oftea meeting speeches but because the organizationofthe event is very elaborate and time consuming, it is rarely celebrated today. Eulalie Rivera,educator and chronicler of Crucian traditions, recalls the tea meeting:About the year 1934-35, I attended a TeaMeeting at the Auditorium ofDiamond School.Tiiis is what I remember about the procedureof that Tea Meeting? a pattern similar to theone followed in all traditional tea meetings, includingthe ones still held today.First of all, there were not many cars on the island,so most of the people came on foot or by honse and cart.The Tea Meeting began at about 6:00 p.m.The Characters:A ChairmanA King and Queen, representing British Royalt\'A PhilosopherA MathematicianA SocialistA PhysiologistA CookA BartenderThe Meeting opened with the Chairman's announce-ment of readiness. Then ever\'One sang "God Bless OurNative Land."The Chaimian then saluted the King and Queen.A Choir sang.Then the Chairman called on whoever was at the topof the program, and this is the way it went: "Mr. Physiologist, will you address us?" "Master Chairman, I'm coming. I'm coming. iMasterChairman, I'm coming." He starts walking from the backof the room. "When he gets up to the front, he says: "Master Chairman, I am coming as a human being.Master Chaimian, I'm here to tell you tonight of ourhuman body. Master Chairman, our human body ismade up of flesh, blood, water and bones. "Master Chairman, the human body has over 200bones. Master Chairman, our two hands has over 50bones." He then names the bones of the body, the mu.sclesand composition of the blood.The Choir then sings a song or rw,'0, and the Chairmanagain salutes the King and Queen.He then calls on the Mathematician, who proceedsfrom the back of the room onto the stage, with a square,a rule, and a protractor in his hand. As he approachesthe stage, he chants: "Mr. Chairman, I'm coming. I am coming, Mr.Chairman. I'm coming like the days of the week whichwe know now to be seven."Reaching the stage, he continues: "Mr. Chairman, it was not always so, as I will explainin my address. "Mr. Chairman, as the ocean moves in currents ofseven, so I'm coming in seven more steps. Mr.Chairman, I've come as the ocean current moves ? insix small waves and one big one to make it seven."He salutes the King and Queen, then turns to theaudience: "Ladies and Gentlemen, I begin my lesson with theunit of things. I'll talk about abstract things. Ill talkabout concrete things. I'll talk about symbols. "Gentlemen and Ladies, I'll show these ten fingers, Ialso have ten toes. Ladies and Gentlemen, the numberten then represents the base of all mathematical proce-dure. Ladies and Gentlemen, the art of expressingnumbers by symbols is called notation, and the art ofexpressing them in words is called numeration. " He would then go on to lecture for quite a while.The Chaimian next calls for Mr. Philosopher, whoalso approaches from the back of the room, saying: "I'm coming. Master Chairman. I'm coming as thePhilosopher who said, ''Wise men learn more from foolsthan fools learn from wise men.' Yes, Mr. Chairman, I 32 am here tci show you some wisdom from the Philoso-pliers."hi this way Tea Meeting would progress until aboutmidnight, with many speeches on a variety ot subjects,interspersed with songs by the Choir.At the midnight intermission everyone was served teaand a sandwich, usually homemade bread or johnnycake with a slice ofham? real, home-cured pork whichthe members cooked a day or two before Tea Meeting.As the meeting came to an end, a specially co.stumedgroup of dancers would perform an exhibition dancecalled "Lancers." The Tea Meeting was over after everyone had joinedin singing the hymn, "God Be With You Till We MeetAgain." But there was often a band of the kind that'scalled a "scratch band" today, but was known then asa "fungi band," and it would strike up a popular dancetune and everyone who had been at the Tea Meetingwould troop up the road, sometimes to Grove or toBethlehem.Tea Meeting was an event usLially held about twicea year. It was an occasion in which the whole commu-nity participated and it was the highlight of our socialvear. For each had of coat.a workerfor theWest India CoalCompany receiveda brass tally worthtwo cents. (Courtesythe Fan ChristianMuseum. St. Thomas) Coal CarriersAroiia PetersonAroiia PeteiycDi is a n'ell-kiioini Si. Thoinciscintbor. uewspcipercdhinuiisl and cbmiiiclerofisland culture. She has written about island slDries. proverbs and traditionalfoods and herb uses.ne following poe>n and notes are e.xceiptsfrom her most recent book. Food and Folklore of the \irgin Islands. Faces so blackenedOnly White of eyes clearFlour bag shirts and pantsOnce bright colored dresses nowFaded after many washingsTally bags filled with talliesSwinging and swayingWith movement of hipsMaking sweet music.Not a troupe of 7ai1usOut of merrimentBut men and womenOn their way homeSweaty, bone wearyAfter a day of canyingHundred pound basketsOf coal on their headsHeavy baskets unloadedThey talk and laughIn tune with jingling talliesIn pockets and tally bagsMaking .sweet music. In the early 20th century. I irfJin IsUinds coal ctirnecoal aboard a visiting ship anchored at the harbor whenSt Tliomas was one of the busiest ports in the CaribbeanA colla.i>c ofphiiio.i'mphsfniDt the souvenirpampibletSi Thiim.is ,ind the \irgin Islands, U.S.A.. compiled andpublished !>] the SI Tlxiiniis Bureau ofInformation. l')l'^)(Photo coiiHe.^y the \'(in Schollen Collection. Enid BanPublic Libraiy and Archives. St. Thomas. Virgin Islands)A familiar scene in bygone days? Coal carriers. Byno means the best or easiest way to earn a living, butbetween a rock and hard place and children to teed, nochoice.The men and women who made the choice may nothave been on any rung of the social ladder but they werenot incumbents either. They gave much more than theyreceived but with satisfaction that every penny ( or tally ) %\'as justly earned.No two ways about it, that was hard rough work, butwhatever the people that carried those baskets weremade of, is not used for making people anymore, at leastnot in these parts.Spines and connecting links of necks are made ofplastic, buckle under slightest pressure in these days,the days of the joggers with noth-ing on their heads.For all the hard work bodieswere kept in good shape, evenwkh the load off their heads theywalked as if they were carryingthe heavy baskets, heads heldhigh, chests way up, backs straightas a pin. Whatever they did, theymust have been doing it right, forload they seldom needed doctor's care.They drank maubi [ale-like drink]by the gallons to keep the lungsclear, and took frequent bush[herb] baths to keep the poresopen so they could perspire freely.When dressed for church, weddings, funerals or anydressing up occasion there was much lace and embroi-dery under those dresses as any other lady from adifferent walk in life.The language was strong but reserved for the dock, .seldom ever on the street and never on Sunday. Evenif provoked they'd say if today wasn't Sunday I'd givethe length of my tongue but wait till I ketch youtomorrow. 33 About Man Betta Man,Fission and Fusion, and Creole,Calypso and Cultural Survivalin the Virgin IslandsGilben A. Sprauve Dr. Gilhen Spniui'c is a Dutch ciucl tjiglisb Creole scholar cDicl Professor ofModem Lan-guages at the University (f the Virgin Iskiiuls He received his Ph D in linguisticsfromPrinceton University.Here and there, scattered over the thin topsoilof these mountaintops in the Caribbean Seathat we call the Virgin Islands is a thistly weedknown to locals by the name "Man BettaMan."' Its name is a riddle to all, one that is mirrored inthe sharp contrast between the limited land mass thatgeographically defines the Virgin Islands and the cul-tural complexity and diversiry characteristic of theIslands' historical and current population.A key to unravelling the Islands' rich cultural flux andvariety is the perspective compounded of linguistic andsociological sciences. Thus the major cultural group-ings are to a large extent subsumable under the rubric "sociolinguistic sectors." Approaching the society' in thisway provides a clear cultural perspective on the com-plex and creative ways the following sectors of thepopulation interact, communicate and compete witheach other in relatively peaceful and harmonious set-tings:1. Crucians2. St. Thomians, St. Johnians3. British Virgin Islanders4. French5. Puerto Ricans6. Kittitians/Nevisians7. Antiguans8. Dominicans St. Lucians9. Trinidadians10. American Blacks11. American Whites 12. Arabs13. Indians1-1. Haitians15. Dominicans from the Dominican RepublicThe sociolinguistic approach taken here is useful inunderstanding the forces that bind together the societyof these islands, themselves microcosms at once of theethnically mixed Greater West Indies and of the UnitedStates melting pot. The author admits to a predilectionfor an approach defined less by conflict among the\arious groups and more by the cultural wealth whichattends diversity and which, to some extent, is the by-product of intense economic exploitation and adversity.He, moreover, fully recognizes the validity of a strictlysociological survey of the same community informed bysurface conflictual indices, one that could effectivelyreduce the groupings to "Blacks." "Whites" and "Others"or "Natives," "Aliens" and "Others," consistent withantagonisms still present in our islands.Cultural divisions also can be marked by conflict.This may be heard in the terms utilized for other-groupidentification in conflictual? and quasi conflictual, thatis, festive? settings. These include "cha-cha" for VirginIslands French folk, "garrot" for folk from the EasternCaribbean islands and "tomian" for St. Thomians. "Crucian" for St. Croix natives and "tolian" forTortolianscarry no significant negative or conflictual charge. "Pappa" and "mamma" are used frequently to refer toPuerto Ricans in the Virgin Islands, as "johnny" is to referto Arabs. ed. note: The words can also be a proverbial way of advising against excessive pride (or despair); there is always one man better, never ;final best. 34 If presen'ation ?t the Islands' ricli cultLiral \'ai"iety ison our list of priorities, then all sociolinguistic instal-ments marshalled to serve that variety' deserve ourattention, from lyrics of our calypsos to folk stories toldin West Indian Creole. For the survival and persistenceof the consciousness that we call "Virgin Islands culture"is by no means a trivial historical matter. To understandthe workings of the engine that drives this conscious-ness we must first glance back at the economic andpolitical forces that came to bear on these islands duringthe past half centur\'.The most dramatic expansion ever in the VirginIslands economy began in the late fifties and early sixtiesof the present century; it is still in progress today, muchto the dismay of a wide cross-section of our populace.Some historians date the groundwork for this boom tothe years of the Second World War. Almost overnightthese islands came under intense pressures to be theshowcase par excellence of unchecked capital develop-ment and exponential commercial expansion. (Weren'twe, after all, an American territory operating in the freeenterprise system? And weren't the islands unsurpassedin natural beauty, the ultimate commodity for wealth)-and adventurous visitors and inve.stors?) When weconsider these pressures from the outside, combinedwith local leaders' self-consciousness about poverty andtheir naive vulnerability to grandiose .schemes of wealthfor all, then we can comprehend why suddenly thedoors were thrown open and the ft:)rces of developmentunleashed.This kind of accelerated development everywherehinges on the availability of cheap labor. The VirginIslands were no exception. But Virgin Islanders werealso coming into their fuller rights as United Statescitizens/subjects; this meant that, although their wagesdid not enjoy full equity with those of United Statescitizens on the mainland, they were still a decent cutabove those of our fellow West Indians on our neigh-boring islands. The ambitious Virgin Islander who felthemmed in by inadequate wages at home routinelypulled stakes and travelled to "The Big City" ? usuallyNew York? to make his fortune. The ambitious WestIndian, analogously stymied by low wages on his homeisland, was all too ready to fill the order when develop-ers from the Virgin Islands? latter day raiders? arrivedon their shores in pursuit of able-bodied laborers forVirgin Islands industry and construction.Thus was set in motion a new version of the famoustriangular trade, this one involving the United States, theVirgin Islands and other islands in the Caribbean. TheVirgin Islands were the hub of this trade, rather thansimply one corner, so the analogy with triangularpatterns is perhaps imperfect. But in effect the three parttrade worked as follows. From the brow of an under-paid labor force transported to and toiling in the VirginIslands, substantial revenues in the form of greenbacks would find their way back into the treasuries of thelabor-producing islands. This hard earned U.S. cur-rency now deposited in the treasuries of our neighbor-ing islands in the Eastern Caribbean translated into acaring posture for the United States vis-a-vis this poten-tially turbulent region.It must be tempting for the architects of Virgin Islandsmodern style development to congratulate themselvesfor the apparent success of their project and its far-flungramifications for regional ".stability." The truth of thematter is this economic success story is also a blueprintfor cultural fission and disintegration. It fosters un-faththomable levels of cynicism, divisiveness and dis-trust within the populace.Enter Creole, CalypsoAND Carnival!One or another of the Creoles (whether Dutch-English- French- or Spanish-associated) is recognized asthe folk language on practically every island of theEastern Caribbean and Virgin Islands. The grammar andthe lexicological strategies of each Creole generallydiffers in only minor ways from the others. Sociologi-cally speaking, Creoles throughout the region are de-spised and their u.se discouraged by educators and allcustodians of "higher culture." Yet it would appear thatthe more resolute the program to eradicate a Creole, themore persi.stent the language has grown as the instal-ment erf folk expression.Beyond its use in unguarded, informal conversation,Creole plays a very important ceremonial ? and evencommunal ? role throughout the Caribbean. It is themedium for lyrics of calypso, the West Indian musicalphenomenon that at once energizes our fetes withpulsating rhythms and seduces our intellect with potentpolitical, social and historical commentary. AlthoughVirgin Islanders, like other West Indians, are flexibleenough linguistically to function reasonably well in .standard varieties of English, all our calypsos are sungin Creole. The inaccessibility of this code to newcomers,to the press and to the cadre of largely imported oralienated managerial staff makes room for transientsatire ? and sometimes outright ridicule ? of thosewho ain things.And herein lies one of the more gratuitous ironies ofthe Virgin Islands as the American Paradise. It is thetransplanted Eastern Caribbean calypsonians, expand-ing the poetic energy of their own particular Creoledialects, who have revitalized calypso in the VirginIslands. Perhaps in response to the harsher socioeco-nomic landscape of their homelands, they lend them-selves heartily to expressing the underclass's frustra-tions and cynicism. They make their mark with lyricsthat strike at the heart of the system's dual standards.Often the tourist does well to simply jump up in the 35 crowd and turn a deaf ear to lyrics that, in any case,would not only mystify him linguistically but assail himmorally.In this region, to discuss calypso is to evoke Carnival.Carnival is described as the season when everybodycomes together as one. Families are reunited a.smembers return home from hundreds and thousands ofmiles away. Carnival is advertised as two days of giantparades, pageantry in which the Islands' romanticistsand realists compete for center stage? Main Street fromone end of town to the other. Fantastic costumesabound; social parody is plentiful. And Carnival is theWorld Series of Calyp.so, replete with a junior series forthe up and coming generation of Caribbean trouba-dours. Here they compete for the title of King or Queenof Calypso before appreciative but wise and discriminat-ing audiences. Carnival is also the season when politicalaspirants traditionally announce their plans for upcom-ing elections. Carnival speaks volumes about socialorganization and cultural identity- and political postur-ing in the Virgin Islands.From the vantage point of our approach founded on "sociolinguistic sectors," the unity^ of Carnival can beseen to be mediated by several social realities. St.Thomians and St. Johnians accept Tortolians and BritishVirgin Islanders as kinfolk; regular commerce with theBritish Virgin Islands and waves of migrations fromthem have gone on uninterrupted since Europeans settled these islands. On the other hand, when Cruciansdiscuss their past and their cultural traditions they payhomage to ancestors, including relatively recent ones,whose place of birth was on one of the EasternCaribbean islands such as Antigua, Barbados, Nevis orSt. Kitts. Several mini carnivals or ethnic celebrations inour islands demonstrate this bidirectional orientation.British Virgin Islands/American Virgin Islands Day isprimarily a St. Thomas and St. John fete, while EasternCaribbean Day is celebrated on St. Croix. Dividingalong similar lines, Fathers Day in St. Thomas ?including boat races and a fishing tournament? toaststhe contribution of the French settlers and their descen-dants; while on St. Croix, Puerto Rico/VI Friendship Daycelebrates the presence of those who migrated fromVieques and Culebra to our shores.A vigorous debate has been going on in tlie VirginIslands about whether these festivals promote unity ordisunity. But in each community the grand-daddy of theannual celebrations is clear: it is Carnival on St. Thomasand St. John, and Festival on St. Croix. All groupsparticipate and compete in these events. Calypsoniansflock to them from the Greater Caribbean to meet thechallenge of feting and entertaining the Virgin Islands inall its cultural diversity. In this way, the fissures oframpant exploitation and its attendant cynicism aresubjected to intense festive meltdown. And the cultureprospers.Were There Giants?Gilhen A. SpraiweYes, one!WHO?Tampo!Sifting meticulously through recollectionsfrom his youth the writer was able to recall one man thatenjoyed the status of "giant." "Enjoyed" is used rhetori-cally, for Tampo certainly did not solicit, much lessabuse, any special dispensations that came with thedistinction. He may in fact have been totally obliviousto them.The writer next pondered the que.stion of confirmingthe Tampo-the-Giant myth. Tracking down school-mates would be simple enough. It is a small, close-knitcommunity. Just mention "Tampo," and Jiggy, for one ? our unofficial class historian? would recite the exactday when Miss Marcellus, after struggling with an incredulous Kenny, who resolutely refused to .swallowthe meaning of the Lilliputian fairy tale for the better partof a class period, suddenly made him and the rest of theclass understand by comparing Gulliver to... you knowwho!But the writer decided on a different tactic. At the endof each interview done in preparation for theSmithsonian's Folklife Festival, he would ask his inter-locutor to tell him what he or she knew of Tampo. Fred (a fisherman): De story 'bout Tampo??Interviewer: ... ain' got a bank out dey, dey callTampo?F: Not me! I: I hear some St. John man talkin' 'bout Tampo Bank.F: You know who dey call Tampo? 36 I: I know who dey call Tampo, but..,F: No. ah ain' talkin' 'bout da fellow... Ah talkin' 'bouta whale... a whale shark. I: A whale shark de call Tampo?F: ^'es... yen, being so big, no? An' ferocious-lookin! I: Wat it is: a whale of a shark??F: A ^'haleshark. I was on he back, Man! Yo' don'believe me? Edouard Blanchard an' ancxida fellowname... gimrne a chance, ah goin' tell yo'... Battiste, asixteen year ol' boy was also in de boat. Fourteen footplywood boat. Fie had us up on he back fo' 'bout 20minutes. An' he didn' want to do not'ing wid us. .Mus'be scratchin' he back. Battiste had want us... take de oaran' .stick him. I: He actually get up under dc boat?F: He came up... like we was anchored here. He cameup likederean' went noil'... bout half de way over derean' he turn straight sout', come .straight under de boatan' w'en he get half o" heself under de boat he raise upan' he stop niovin', yo' know. Jus' rai.se right up like ahelicopter, raise up right outa de water. He was aboutdis height outa de water. But I wasn't scared because I know dey don' eat people, dey're not dangerous. Watdere danger is, if you create it. if yo' hit dem wit' a oarand dey get frighten an' dey dump yo'. I: Bout how long yo" say he was?F: 'Bout 50 feet long, 'bout ten feet wide... We averagehim by de boat an' he was, ah believe, t'ree and a halftimes de lengt' o' de boat, maybe four times...(from interview on 12 Februarywith Mr. Alfred Richardson) I: "\'o' remember a fellow in St. Thomas dey call Tanipor'J: Tampo is a big fellow. But v\ait, 1 hear he dead? Derewere two Tampo. I: Yeh, tell me bout dem.J: Dere were nvo. One had name Cyril. Dere's anoddaone from To'tola. A set o' dem boy had fight him a time,down Buck Hole. Lawd, I know... I know de boy-dem name... an' he take an' dey say dey is boxer, an" ting.He say: Come, come: in dis To'tola language, jus'lemme ge me hean' on him. He had about two o' demunder dis foot an' dey couldn' move... squeezin' dem.An' dey say dey boxin'. An' he only makin' so, grabbin'dem. 'Bout .some four, five o' dem. But Tampo was toomuch fo' dem. Das de one!(from interview on 18 Februarywith Mr. Jospehus Williams) 1: Ya' know a fellow... firs' yo ever hear of a place callTampo?H: A place yo' call Tampo, yo' say? I: Yo' ever hear any o' de fisherman o' anyt'ing talkin'bout a place dey call Tampo?H: ... No, no, no. I: But yo' know a man... dey name, dey call Tampo?H: Here? 1 knov\- a guy w'a we call Tampo. De one fel-low w'a I know...1: W'a yo' remember bout Tampo?H: Yeh, but he wasn't a fisherman.1: No. I jus' want to know w'a yo' remember 'bout him.H: ... bout a fellow name Tampo? Well, Tampo is... heivas a very .strong man. De one dat I know. I: De same one.H: An' he got a bad leg. An' I went down to he coal pit.Down at Mr. Newton, back dere. An' I find Tampo: hehad two half bag o' coal on he head, one straight an' deodda one cross, an' he still had two under he arm,comin' wid dis piece o' ftM::)t.1: Even wid de bad foot, yo' tellin' me?H: Wid de bad foot! I say: 'Well, Jesus Christ! Wa disman doin'?' An' Tampo dere comin' t'rough de stone...de place dere. not'ing couldn' run, Tampo was dereeven wid he bad foot. If somebody had tell me dat, Iwoulda say 'Ncj!' But wen I firs' know Tampo he wasa prayer meetin' man. He had a nice voice an' ting!(from 27 Febniary interviewwith Mr. Humphrey Hermon) 37 Tradition and Cultural IdentityIN SenegalDiana Baird N'Diaye IntroductionIn Senegal these are the words to a well-knownlullaby in the Wolof language: Father Malamine. religious teacher ( marabout),Write me a talisman.Talismans are not easy to find in SaloumFor Saloum has just two rooms.The third room is only a kitchen.And that kitchen belongs to the king.That king is the King of Saloum.Ayo Ayo,Ayo Baby,Little Baby. Like many English nurseryrhymes, the song is a coded wayof talking about events and issuesthat could not be openly discussed.The words of the song refer to the14th century, when the kingdomof Saloum in Senegal was dividedinto two warring factions (the tworooms) ? converts to the newlyintroduced religion of Islam andadherents of the traditional Wolofreligion. The "kitchen" mentionedin the song symbolizes the wivesof the king? particularly his fifthwife, an older woman captured inwar. She retained her belief in the Wolof religion, andso did King Saloum. The words of this Wolof lullabyrefer to events, heros, customs, beliefs and socialstructures that existed five centuries ago.They mark a particular moment in Senegal's long Topography and Ethnic Groups ofSenegal . (Adapteilfrom Tbiam, Mangane and Sow. Geographic duSenegal 1989 edition. Dakar Xoiwelles EditionsAfricaines) history of kingdoms, empires, long-distance trade, andcontinuous cultural contact. The influence of theseinstitutions is still to be found in the multilayered andmultifaceted cultures that exist in Senegal today.Visitors to the Senegal program at the Festival ofAmerican Folklife have an opportunity to experiencesome aspects of the traditional folk cultures of Senegaland to learn the way they shape and express culturalidentities in this complex African society. Culturalidentities embodied in personal presentation and otherforms of expressive culture will be explored throughcrafts, music, narrative, dance, and foodways traditionsperformed in domestic, occupational and festive con-texts. Senegal's contribution tothe culture of the Americas willalso be featured. Visitors to theprogram may find that presenta-tions by Senegalese Festival par-ticipants challenge their precon-ceived notions about African cul-tures, societies and forms of tradi-tional artistic expression. Thesocial complexity of Senegalesesociet)', the importance of historyin ever\'day life, the legacy of ninecenturies of empire, the impact ofIslam, and the relationship of aes-thetics and morality are all visiblethrough the lens of traditionalfolklife.GeographyLcjcated at the western most tip of the Africancontinent, bordered by the Atlantic Ocean, Senegal isthe closest point of contact between Africa and theAmericas. Its geographic position and its many rivers The Senegalprogram has been madepossible, in part, bv the President ofthe Republic ofSenegal. Abdou Diouf theOffice of the President, the Ministry of Culture and Communication, the Ministry of Tourism and Environment, theSenegalese Embassy to the United States, the American Embassy to Senegal, the American Cultural Center in Senegal,Cheikh Anta Diop - Institut Fondamental de lAfrique Noire, and administrative authorities in Dakar and in thevarious regions ofSenegal. 38 made Senegal an important point of entry, departureand contact for the Wolof, Lebou, Serer, Toucouleur,Soninke, Peul, Diola, Manding, Balante and Bassari whocall Senegal home as well as for peoples from other partsof Africa and from Europe, Asia, and the Americas.For a little more than half of its width from west toeast, Senegal is divided into upper and lower regions bythe Republic of Gambia, an elongated encla\e followingand sheathing the Ri\er Gambia. The countiT of colonial administration, the present outlines of thecountry were established. The citizens of Senegal re-gained their self-governing status in I960 and retainedboth political boundaries and a developing conscious-ness of themselves as Senegalese. The influence ofthese earlier social forms has been profound on thetraditions that are part of the Senegalese way of lifetoday.The PeopleAt first glance it might seem that performance tradi-tions and cultural identities in Senegal might be orga-nized along the lines of people who speak the samelanguage, live in the same community, share a commonhistory' or ancestor and practice the same religion.However, visitors to the Festival's Senegal program arelikely to encounter different traditions and beliefspresented by speakers of a common language and justas likely to hear different languages spoken in thepresentation of similar styles of dance, music and crafts.These experiences indicate the complexity of therelationship between Senegal's ethnic identities and itsfolk traditions.The simplistic notion of tribe can mislead under-standings about Senegalese culture and identity. Indi-viduals create their cultural identities within a complexsocial environment composed of groups defined bysuch things as kin relationships, religious belief, mutualassistance and economic production. In a book onManding oral traditions, Donald Wright observes:Holding together Mandinka [Manding], Serer, Wolof.and Fulbe [Peul] society and lending unity to thewider Senegambian social and cultural region werea tripartite social structure and strong kinship rela-tions. Freemen, artisans, and captives were the threemajor class divisions throughout much of the West-ern Sudan... Uniting persons in different parts of theSenegambia, giving individuals the framework fortheir own identity, and providing a measure of thesense of unity that tied together the various ethnicgroups was kinship... Class and status seem to have played more importantroles than ethnicity in the establishment of settle-ments, interpersonal relations and intermarriage.The only restriction on marriage seems clearly tohave been one of class: a Mandinka freeman wouldonly marry a "free" person from any ethnic group.Members of the different [ethnic] groups did inter-marry on a wide scale, and this intermarriage and thesubsequent mixture of ethnic groups seems to havebeen a key element in the development and long-term stability of political institutions in the area.The Wolof people are the largest ethnic group inSenegal, representing well over a third of the nation's population. As early settlers of the region and asbuilders of kingdoms (the Jollof, the Waalo, and theCayor, from the 13th to the 19th century), the Wolofhave given Senegal its most widely spoken languageand have influenced many of the traditions practicednationwide. Ubiquitous Senegalese traditions likecbiehoudieiiue {fish with rice), the sabar dance style,the grand houhoii mode of dress are all of Wolof origin.Although most Wolof are farmers, on-going tradi-tions of long distance commerce account for the pres-ence of Wolof street merchants in many African andNorth American cities including New York, Washing-ton, D.C., and Atlanta. These farmer-merchants arecalled Baol-Baol after the general region from whichmany Wolof originate. They customarily would leavehome during the period between harvest and the firstplanting to earn money in towns so they could purchaseneeded goods to send to their families back home. TheSerer, like the Wolof, were among the eadiest settlers ofSenegal. The late Senegalese scholar, Cheikh Anta Diopconcluded on the basis of linguistic studies that the Sererwere an Egyptian people who migrated to their presentbase in the Sine and Saloum regions of Senegal. Theyha\e remained largely rural, supporting them.selves byfarming, fishing and cattle-raising. According to oraltraditions, during the jihads (wars of religious conver-sion) of the 12th and 13th centuries they moved from thenorth of the country towards the south, to avoid forcedconversion to Islam. Since that time, the Serer have livedmainly in the western mid-section of the country. Theyare the second largest ethnic group in Senegal, many ofwhom continue to practice locally-based sacred tradi-tions.The Toucouleur share common ancestry with thePeul who have traditionally roamed throughout WestAfrica, both as herders in search of grazing ground andas warriors. The Toucouleur broke away from the Peulto embrace Islam. They are the third largest group in thecountry. In contrast to the Serer and to the Peul, theyare fer\ently orthodox in their practice of Islam. Toucoul-eur travelers to the Arab countries in North Africa werethe first people in Senegal to adopt Islam. From themiddle of the 13th century, they propagated this religionthroughout Senegal through jihads, or holy wars. By thel4th century, their homeland in the eastern midlands ofSenegal had become the seat of the Islamic empire ofTekrour. A close connection to the Islam of theAlmoravids (warrior priests who traveled throughoutthe Mediterranean) can still be seen in the Arab influ-enced singing style of the Tidiane religious brother-hood, to which many Toucouleur belong.Originally, the Peul were nomadic. They wereherders who traded milk and milk products with farm-ing communities for millet and other agricultural goods.In Senegal this group was spread throughout the easternborder region popularly known as the Fouta, and in the 40 southern part of Senegal popularly known as theCasamance near the frontier between Senegal andGuinea Bissau. Over time, contact with other ethnicgroups influenced some Peul to settle and to practiceagriculture. Most of these sedentary Peul are concen-trated in the Casamance region. Peul, both nomadic and .sedentary, have a characteristic love of cattle and atradition of pre-Islamic religion.Today most Manding are farmers living in the Casa-mance. During the 14th century, the first wave ofManding, also called Soce, arrived in Senegal as part ofthe expanding empire of Mali from the southeast. In the19th centur>', a second migration of Manding peoplecame to settle in the country as converts to Islam by ElHadj Omar, the warrior marabout (Islamic religiousteacher/counselor) of the Toucouleur. They are relatedto the Malinke in the Republic of Guinea, and to theBambara in the Republic of Mali. They brought withthem the 21-stringed instrument of troubadours calledkora, the lute called gamhareand the type of dami usedin social and ceremonial dance throughout most ofSenegal today. Similarities between Manding dance andmusic traditions and those of the Serer, Soninke (alsocalled Sarakole) and the Diaxankes bear witness to theclose relationship between these ethnic groups. To-gether, the Manding, Soninke, and Diaxanke make upeight percent of Senegal's population.The Diola live in a number of communities related bylanguage, history, forms of traditional artistic expressionand shared traditions of government. The sixth largestethnic group, they are among the only groups in Senegalto have retained ceremonies in which forest spirits areembodied in masks. They cultivate rice and har\'est theproducts of the palm trees which grow abundantly inthe Casamance. Diola communities located on riverbanks and the Atlantic coast also practice fishing as away of life. Most groups in Senegal are stratifiedinternally with ranked, inherited status groups based onfamily and occupation. But Diola social organization isbased on egalitarian, small-scale, self-governing com-munities in which age and initiation are the majorcriteria for participating in religious ritual and commu-nity decision making. Ethnic groups closely related tothe Diola are the Balante, Mandjak, and Mankangnes,who have similar traditions, artistic forms and liveli-hoods.The Bassari, who live in the extreme southeast of thecountry, are among the smallest and least well-kncjwnof the ethnic groups of Senegal. Numbering about10,000, they account for less than two percent of thenation's population. Because access is relatively diffi-cult to the steep hills where they live, they have had lesscontinuous contact with outsiders than other ethnicgroups. They traditionally made their livelihood byhunting, gathering and farming.Another small group, the Lebou, are a Wolof speak- ing people of the Cape Verde region, which includes thecapital city of Dakar. They are traditionally fishermen.Lebou oral historians trace their origins as a people fromthe intermarriage among Wolof, Serer and Mandingfishing communities. Today, they share occupationaltraditions such as boat building styles and reverence forparticular water spirits with the Niominka ? fishingcommunities of rural-based Serer. Their dance andmusic traditions, however, are closer to Wolof .styles.Senegalese have developed strategies for easing thestresses that occur when different people live together.Among them is "cal," the traditional joking relationshipsbetween ethnic groups. Similar joking traditions existwithin families and between people with specific sur-names. For example, the N'Diayes and the Diopsjokingly call each other their slaves and accuse eachother of being gluttons. The same playful accusationsfly between the Peuls and Diolas and between specificfamily members in several ethnic groups.A more serious unifying practice is Islam, introducedto Senegal in the 13th century through both voluntaryconversion and jihad (holy war). The latter wereconducted by the invading Almoravids and by decree ofconverted Senegalese monarchs. Ninety-five percent ofthe .Senegalese population now define themselves asMuslim, In addition to practicing the "five pillars ofIslam" rcc|uired of all, Senegalese Muslims are likely toidentify with one of the four major Islamic brotherhoodsof the country: Tidiane, Quadrya, Mouride, or Layyen.The brotherhoods exist throughout Senegal, and withina single family, men and women may belong to any ofthe four brotherhoods. It is a matter of personalpreference.The religious brotherhoods exist within the Sufi(mystical) traditions of Islam. These religious practicesinclude testimonials, preaching, call and response,chanting and group singing. They often resemblerevival meetings held among African Americans. Dur-ing the chants, believers experience a reaffirmation oftheir faith and sometimes become possessed by whatthey describe as the light of the Divine.Coexisting with devotion to the word of Allah isrespect for the power and the will of local spirit forces.Called Jlims in Islamic lore, these spirits inhabit andanimate the land, the forest and the waters. Some ofthem are the continuing presence and influence ofdeceased ancestors on the world of the living.Combined manifestations of the two systems of beliefpervade the everyday lives of many Senegalese andinform language and other symbolic systems such asmaterial culture and music and dance traditions. Thetechnique of reverse glass painting, known asfixes sousverre, is used io illustrate both locally-based and Islamicmythok\^y as well as scenes of traditional Senegaleselife. The art form was imported from the Near Eastduring the 19th century as tableaux for Islamic religious 41 Siiniha Duihare Samh and Amad .\ T)ui\v Scimh pliiy the halam.II tnulitiiinal hue. lo accompany their siiimhil; iihrnii ihf hisi, .n "/ theW'oldfpeople. OmI historians, musicudis iiiid /'raise sniifers In thepowerful and wealthy, these griots ? nienihers oj the nceiipaluiualclass ofperformers? continue to play an important role in contem-porary Senegalese society. (Photo by El Had] Malik M 'Baye) instruction. During the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s, thenarrative paintings by Senegalese artists became ven,'popular in Senegalese households. Some are portraits offamous as well as ordinar>' people. Others representevents in the lives of local Muslim saints. The paintingsalso depict spirits from Senegalese cosmology.How History Informs Daily LifeThe people of Senegal live with their history in ver>'personal and meaningful ways. Whether they are borninto a Wolof, Serer, Manding, Toucouleur, Soninke orDiola household, children still at their mothers' breastsbegin to learn about the origins of their families, theirnames, their clans, and about the occupations andexploits of their ancestors. Wolof luUabyes often tellportions of the baby's genealogy and sing praises for theinfant's illustrious origins. In Senegal as in much ofWestAfrica, knowledge about one's history is not merelyfascinating information. It is part of the foundation onwhich one constructs his or her cultural identity.Artistic speech, song and dance help situate individu-als in a continuum of kinship links, past and present. Forexample, professional oral historians, griots, who cantrace families back 13 generations, practice their art andknowledge in negotiating a marriage, naming a childand establishing birthright to a particular occupation orstatus. These griots, who may also be musicians,traditionally have been advisors, confidants and praisesingers of the rich and powerful. Because of theirrecognized ability to affirm or damage an individual'ssocial identity with their oratorical skill and detailedfamily knowledge, griots are both respected and fearedby their patrons.Often referred to by Senegalese as caste, a particularform of occupational and social class exists within thetraditional social structures of the Wolof, Toucouleur, Serer, and Manding ethnicities. Each of these classes isdistinguished from the others by birthright to certaintraditional knowledge, skills, and practices that aresubject to restrictions or taboos recognized by thesociety as a whole. Within these ethnicities until veryrecently, the knowledge and skills required to producetextiles, perfumes, hairstyles, jewelry, and many formsof artistic performance were family or clan secretszealously guarded by supernatural sanctions againsttransmission to outsiders.For example, Kliadydiatou Samassa is a Soninkeresist dyer from Bouki-Diawe in the Fouta region ofSenegal. She remembers when she was growing up thatpeople who stole knowledge of resist-dyeing from herfamily and tried to practice it elsewhere were subject tosupernatural curses. These made their hands swellwhen they touched the dye pots and thus preventedthem from working. Among the Soninke people, thepractice of resist-dyeing was historically restricted to thenobility, and the art continues to be passed down fromolder to younger generations within the same families.But in urban centers such as Senegal's capital cit\- of Children from the family ofStanding, ^iiriol. Kemo Piuhate. comefrom II lnii^i;'liiie o/ disliiiiiiii^hi'd h>'rii players and nral lustnnans.From an early a,iie Ihey heLi^me familiar inlh their iiihenled profes-sion hy playing child sized versions of this many strin.iied musicalinstrument. (Photo by Diana Baird X'Diaye) 42 Dii>la feslive occasions such as naming ceremonies, iniiuitunicind weddings include the dancing of bugur. (Photo hy DiuiuiN'Diciye)Dakar, these professions are now open to outsiders.The craftsperson who can claim membership in afamily whose ancestors practiced their art for the royalcourts is well respected. Certain family names, such asCissokho, Diabate, Kouyate, and Konte are synony-mous with playing the kora and the balafon and singingManding epic poetry. From interviews with the Cis-sokho family, I learned that Bakary Cissokho's fathermade his son promise that every one of his 1 1 childrenwould learn the kora. According to Bakary Cissokho,truly great talent was inherited by particular familymembers. This gift was identified early in life andnurtured and protected with charms and secret familyrituals.In contrast, among Diola and Bassari peoples, onlygender, age, circumcision and marriage status qualifypeople to learn and participate in particular traditions.The practice of a wide variety of traditional crafts is opento anyone who meets criteria of gender and age; a singleexception is knowledge of metalworking which ispassed on through family lines.The Practice of IdentityIn Senegal individuals often u.se traditional arts ofpersonal adornment, artistic performance and hospital- ity to construct public presentations of themselves.Cultural values about personal beauty include behaviorand movement as well as dress and personal adorn-ment. Virtues such as personal integrity (djom). per-sonal cleanliness (set), self-respect ifaidd), patience ( nioun) and generosity and graciousness in the treat-ment of guests (teranga) are taught to Senegalesechildren growing up in a traditional home. Virtuallyfrom the first few hours of a child's life until the time anelder attains the status of ancestor at burial, arts ofadornment and speech help people learn and projectthese ideals. Grandmothers in Senegal massage andmold the heads of their grandchildren to encourage abeautiful form. While the child is still very young, storiesand proverbs massage and mold the child's growing .sense of his or her place in the v/orld and of communityaesthetics and morality.Throughout Senegal, people now in their thirties andforties who grew up in the country can remember storiestheir grandparents told at night about the two Coumbas. Senegalese tailors create elegant [K'l^initil udommentfor men aswell as women. In this 19th cciiliiry phulngraph. a Senegalesenobleman icears a richly embroidered mhc allied a grand boubou,leather babouches (slippers) and a gri.s-gris (amulet) on a chainenclosed in a silver case. These articles are still veiy much a part ofSenegalese formal dress today (Photo courtesy Elliason collection.Smithsonian Institution National Museum ofAfrican Art) 43 These Wolofwomen at a Iraditional healing ceivminiy in SciieiJalexemplify the qiialtlicf (if iMi.\.\ ( ^elf re^ipcct ) associated with the arts ofpcrMinal (hlfniiiieiil iinil Liirruivi' The Ilia women in the center ofthephnini;ni/ili an' iisiii,i; in,>ihstiU-^ Kdtdu' Selected from aromatictrees, these slicks are handled piiltliciilly with an elegance not unlikethat of a 1930s screen actress wielding a cigarette holder (Photocourtesy INTRASAHEL) In a Wolof version of the stoiy, Coumba Am N'Deye(Coumba with a mother) and Coumba Amoul N'Deye(Coumba without a mother) are half-sisters. Althoughindulged by her mother, Coumba Am N'Deye is ulti-mately devoured by vultures because of her lazy,impatient and spoiled behavior. But Coumba AmoulN'Deye, despite the unjust treatment of her evil step-mother, gains great good fortune becau.se she is coura-geous, polite, helpful and hard-working.At the same time, some tales, such as the exploits oftricksters Bouki the Hyena and Leuk the Hare, hint attolerance and even admiration for those individualsaudacious enough to break the rules and clever enoughto achieve their goals in seemingly impo,ssible circum-stances.Personal adornment is a primary means of individualexpression. Aesthetic variety and innovation are char-acteristic features of Senegalese traditional arts of per-sonal presentation. These traditions provide opportuni-ties for highly valued personal and cultural statements.Good grooming in Senegal indicates a person who hasself-respect and the expectation of the respect of others.Good grooming and cleanliness (set) are Muslim valuesas well since one is called five times a day to presentoneself before God without physical impurity.Performed arts ? music, dance, and verbal arts in-cluding such genres as Malinke epic poems, Toucoul-eur lullabyes, Serer wrestlers' chants, the use of prov-erbs, children's games, and the incantations and pro-nouncements of healers and diviners ? also makehighly valued statements about personal and culturalidentity . Performances constmct identities in many ways andin many contexts. Some performances by professionalartists honor or occasionally satirize an individual andhis or her family. Other performances, like an individual's gestures and comportments, announce his or her ownidentity to the community and the world. Senegaleseexpress admiration for subtle and discreet displays ofpersonal creativity within the framework of tradition,and in certain circumstances, a boastful chant is ac-cepted and even applauded.For instance, in the Sine and Saloum regions ofSenegal, the performance of social identity is exempli-fied in the lambe, a wrestling tradition which originatedwith the Serer and which has become a tournamentgame associated with harvest celebrations all overSenegal. The object of the lambe contest is to force anopponent off balance so that his body touches theground. Lambe competitions take place each year in theSine region of Senegal in the months of January andFebruary, the period following the harvest and prior tothe first planting of the new year. At other times of theyear, wrestlers farm and raise cattle as others do, butduring the harvest celebration, each champion wrestlerrepresents his village in bouts with the champions ofother villages. The excitement surrounding the lambescan be compared to that of Americans during the WorldSeries.Before a match, each wrestler prepares himself withthe help of his personal marabout who prescribes adetailed set of rituals, medicines and talismans to insurethe wrestler's success. Then, in the midst of anentourage that can include hundreds of the wrestler'ssupporters, drummers, his marabouts and singers, thecombatant proceeds to the village where the match is tobe held. He announces and presents himself to theassembled crowds, dancing and reciting poetry that tellsof his prowess. These poems suggest common roots ofa tradition which includes the rap songs of youngAfrican Americans and the inventive, boastful rhymes offormer world champion boxer Muhammed Ali.Another arena of personal presentation is that de-fined by the formal reception of guests. It is not mere Souley N'Diaye. a Serer wrestler takes on a fighting stance at alamhe tournament in the I'illage ofSamha Dia in the Sine region ofSenegal. In his hand he holds a talisman made ofhorn . (Photo by A . Lamine Drame) 44 MessoleUSENEGALAISDESETATS-UNISLESMODOU-MODOUONTPIGNONSURRUE PRESSEREACTIONDESMAGISTRATS UUm-TELlNouvellesemissions auprogramme SBKBMUISNi6bea la carte MORFADAM-MOHtMEDlL! Leretourdesgeants ALGERIE 90FEUILLEDE ROUTEOES ?L10NS? Headlines of thefront page of the Senegalese daily. Le Soleil, firFebniaty 9. 1990. announce articles that reflect contemporary inter-ests: the lives ofSenegalese vendors I'modou-modou ) in i\eu' York City.a recent lambe wrestling tournament and the nutritional value -community. In return, they will visit him and welcomehim with ritual greeting, dalaljanim, "may peace greetyou here." This obligatory exchange of civilities assuresa reciprocal welcome and avoids intolerance and disor- der. The same ritual formula is used with a stranger tokeep him from feeling toiimoiiranke, "disorientation."To take care of all his small needs is to fulfill one'sobligation of teranga. This form of teranga is expressedin a number of ways. - A welcome is amplified by unrolling a ceremonialcloth under his feet as a "red carpet." - A calabash full ( )f milk or water is offered along witha cola nut - The guest house called neeru gaini. "room forforeign guests," is prepared. - Neighbors contribute prepared food for meals tofamilies during a guest's stay; they contribute giftsand provisions when he leaves. - A host shares his meals with his guest and avoids "leaving the table" first, abandoning him to finish themeal alone.In Special Circl'MSTancesTeranga, which has the goal of establishing goodhuman and social relationships, is also evident oncertain special occasions.The naming ceremony is an opportunity- for parents,friends and neighbors to offer ndokale, "congratula-tions. " through their presence, a sign of respect andsolidarity more meaningful than gifts of money. Theserecent expressions of ndokale reflect the contemporaryvalue placed on material goods. The greatest teranga onthis occasion is a godparent's double gift. The newbornreceives the name of this well respected person, whosegood qualities, according to belief, will also be con-ferred on the child.Offering condolences at a funeral? deiidj. related todeju "to be or stay seated, " ? is a manifestation ofteranga as compassion. It is offered as a communal actat the home of the deceased during the funeral ceremo-nies.At weddings, in addition to the usual congratulations,teranga is expressed in giving someone the role ofiidieke, "first maid-of-honor," which is associated witha variety of responsibilities. It is a gesture usually be-stowed on an admired, close relative for whom beinghead of the procession and ceremonial host is a sourceof great pride.Teranga is proper conduct in communal rites. Onthese occasions good compc^rtment is rewarded andsongs are offered to men or women whose behaviorindicates they have given the community their ownteranga. They have shown themselves secure bearers oftraditions and guarantors of Wolof socio-cultural heri-tage.The Wolof word teranga is more than merely asynonym for hospitality-'. Teranga is an aesthetic andmoral quality that encompasses much of the spirit ofcommunality of Senegalese society. 49 Social Beliefs and Craft PracticesAbdoii SyllaTranslated by Winifred Lambrecht Abdou Sylla. Ph.D., is a professor ofbisto>y and sociolog}' specializin^J i)i West African crafttraditions with Universite Cbeikh A>ita Diop deDakar - InstitittFondamental de L Aftiqiie Noir.This article is translatedand adaptedfrom his book on African aesthetics. Creation et imitationde L'Art africain, Universite Cheikb Anta Diop de Dakar? IFAN 1988. Traditional Senegalese society was and still isorganized along "caste" lines, that is to say,by distinct social categories which groupindividuals and their families according tospecific occupations.A caste is a group of individuals who do particularkinds of work and distinguish themselves socially bythat work. Within each caste, individuals have specifiedrelationships with each other, following practices spe-cific to their group. The skills of each caste are passedfrom father to son, and from mother to daughter,vertically, but they also travel horizontally since initia-tion and other forms of education are carried out collec-ti\ely.In traditional Senegalese society, each indi\iduallearned his fathers and his ancestors' skills: theindividual became a jeweler or a cobbler if his father andhis ancestors were jewelers or cobblers. And initiationinto the ancestors' trade was mandatory. An individualwas obliged to learn not only the occupational skillsassociated with a particular caste but also the accumu-lated knowledge of its customs and beliefs. It was and still is impossible to escape one's caste. The prejudicesand beliefs attached to a caste attach to the individual.Individuals are born into a caste and belong to it all theirlives.Modernization contributes, of course, to the declineof traditional occupations and of traditional initiationinto them, particularly in urban centers. But, even so,the beliefs, prejudices and customs associated with eachcaste still endure. In villages, tradition and crafts are stillprevalent and exclusive.Within the society, however, castes are not closedautonomous groups isolated from one another. Rela-tionships between castes are based on work, on tradi-tion and on social beliefs. These relationships were firstincorporated in the reciprocal exchanges of labor.Undoubtedly, certain castes have had the value of theirlabor progressively diminish during the course of his-tory. The devaluation is the result of a number of factorsincluding colonization, which introduced new kinds ofwork and the capitalistic division of labor. As a result. in urban centers, tradition became less determinate.Nevertheless, the stratification of society into castesremains permanent; and that permanency is alwaysnoticeable, especially during social events such asweddings, naming ceremonies and funerals, in whichmembers of different castes customarily perform par-ticular tasks. Not anyone who wants to can be masterof ceremonies for a certain family's social event; one hasto be the family's,^no? or praise singer. And in exchangefor obligations met and services rendered, the griot, likehis parents before him, expects considerations and gifts.Historically all men belonged to specific castes andall were free, except slaves, members of the lowestgroup, which was not tmly a caste, since domesticslavery was the result of warfare and raiding. Thepractice of African slavery was intensified in the 18thand 19th centuries, driven by the triangular economytying Europe, Africa and America. In this practice anyperson could become a slave, domestic or exported,and at the time, any slaver risked becoming a slavehimself as a result of defeat.Generally speaking, castes appear as groups whichare hereditary, endogamous, occupation specific andconnected with one another thrtxigh hierarchical ties.The Geer or NoblesThe caste of nobles, called geerin Wolof, is at the topof the caste hierarchy. An important segment of thiscaste formerly did nc:)t have a materially productiveoccupation. That segment was composed of royal fami-lies: the Damel of Cayor, the Tegne of Baol, the Buurof Sine, the Gelewar of the Wolof region, the Ceddo ofthe Manding area, and others. Members of this segmentusually governed society and led armies. The other partof the geer caste are the baadolo. agricultural peasantswho were not craftsmen. They represented the majorityof the population.The ideal virtues associated with the position of geerare basically 7'oom (honor and dignity-), miifi (patience)and kersa (decency) which each geer is obliged to enactthrough behavior, appearance, way of dressing, and thelike. 50 Theoretically all other castes of craftsmen, calledneeno, work for the geer caste; and every geer familyhas relationships with workers from the other castes,specialized in the various occupations. Every geer andevery geer family is obliged to offer gifts and services tothe members of the neeno caste who ser\-e them. Theserelationships of exchange are hereditaiy, renderedperennial through custom.The TeggThe second caste in the social hierarchy is that of jew-elers and blacksmiths whom the Wolof call tegg: theyshare the common occupation of working fire-heatedmetals by hitting or pounding them. Other characteris-tics distinguish them from one another. Jewelers gener-ally work with precious metals, gold and silver mostly,sometimes using the lost wax method; they fashionwearable objects of small size (earrings, rings, pendants,necklaces, and the like) guided only by aestheticprinciples. Blacksmiths on the other hand, are tradition-ally specialists in making utilitarian objects (axes, adzes,hoes, knives) and weapons (guns, spears, sabers, knives,swords, arrowheads.)Jewelers and blacksmiths are thusessential in Senegalese society: they fashion all the toolsnecessaiy for economic production and .social fimction.the ornamental objects and tools commonly u.sed indomestic life.Metalworkers also fulfill a variety of religious, cul-tural, social and political functions: they are mediators,both among living members of social groups andbetween the worlds of the living and the dead. They or-ganize funerals and secret societies; they can be coun-selors to or messengers between political powers. Met-alworkers' wives are equally multi-talented; they assistwomen who are sick, giving birth, or dying, and theyalso are potters. The multiple social roles the tegg playand the mysterious quality of fire and the forge explainthe ambivalent feelings they generate: respect and fear,admiration and spite among others.Traditionally each tegg or tegg family is attached toone or more geer or geer family and that relationship istransmitted from one generation to the next. Theoreti-cally, a tegg gives higher priority to the manufacture ofthose objects commissioned by his geer and the lattercan require his punctual services at an\' time. Inexchange, the tegg receives goods and services from hisgeer, notably during important events occurring in thegeer family. Standing obligation and reciprocal ex-change are enforced by both parties; to agree to italways and everywhere is part of the ethical code ofeach caste. Although in the old society the tegg usuallyworked only when commissioned, in the modern worldthe tegg produces a variety of pieces which he exhibitsin shop windows and offers to potential clients. Nev-ertheless, the particular relationships between tegg andgeer still exists. The UndeUude form the third caste, that of cobblers; they workwith leather, which they tan, prepare, dye and decoratein the manufacture of knife sheaths and sword scabards,sandals, horse saddles, bags, billfolds, belts, amuletcases and leather bracelets. Like the metalworkers intraditional society', the leatherworkers were attached togeer or geer families from father to son. This traditionhas been perpetuated until now, but like the metalwork-ers, the leatherworkers do not restrict their clientele.Undoubtedly, Senegalese leatherwork, particularlythat of urban centers, has long been indebted to theleatherwork from the Maghreb, not only for its styles offootwear, typically, hahoiicbes or Turkish slippers, butalso for the acquisition of tanned skins. Senegalese cob-blers preferred the tanned pelts imported from Moroccoand Tunisia for two main qualities: they were easier towork and they were stronger than locally available pelts.Nevertheless, in recent years Senegalese cobblers haveproduced a varied array of styles of slippers for theMuslim holiday of Tabaski. These are tanned by theleatherworkers in Senegal. The skins are dyed in vibrantcolors which have replaced the more pastel colors of theMaghreb skins. Local goat and sheep skins are usedmore and more for everyday use, whereas the verycostly tanned skins imported from the Maghreb, aresaved for the manufacture of babouches for the wealthy.The dynamic quality of this craft can be measured byits abundance of products, variety of styles, number ofworkshops in various districts, and low asking prices.Like the weavers and the sculptors, the leatherworkersare organized into guilds, each workshop having aspecific hierarchy. Nevenheless, the tools of the tradehave remained traditional.The RebbThe weavers, named rebb by the Wolof. form thefourth caste, which is fast disappearing because ofmodernization and the textile factories that have ap-peared in our country. Although in traditional societyweaving provided cloth for all clothes, today it producescloth mainly for women's wrap-around skirts and thelarge men's robes called bonbons.In rural areas weaving is still practiced by families,and they maintain the same kind of exchange relation-ships with other castes as those already described.Within the caste of rebb (weavers), are also the;?c7?:7iio (woodcarvers). Woodcarvers produce utilitar-ian objects like mortars and pestles, drums and dugoutcanoes, benches and chairs, basins, plates, forks, ladles,statues and masks. Today, their various products aresold all over the country and sometimes exported.Usually settled in the crafts neighborhoods of urbancenters or in family workshops, woodcarvers are tradi-tionally organized in guilds. The head of the guild is 51 responsible for the gathering of primary materials andfor the marketing of products. Sometimes he directsyoung apprentices to market the carvings in hotels andmarkets, in airports and public squares, or he sendsthem abroad. Tliis is why we can now see young wood-worker merchants selling statues and other African artobjects in large European and American cities. They arecalled bana-bana and their merchandise is known as "airport art."Woodcarvers are known for their linguistic play andimpertinence. In that, they resemble the griot, mastersof language. Their wives do several kinds of work, suchas braiding the hair ofwomen from other castes, particu-lady the geer, making women's beaded belts wornaround the waist and small intimate apparel calledm 'becho; and mixing ingredients for incense. Beadedbelts, m'becho and incense are designed for sexualallure. Women of the woodcarver caste have their ownbeaded belts that sometimes weigh several pounds andmove so as to attract attention to their hips. They havespecial dances with their beads and hips. All thesecustoms and behavior are socially accepted becausewoodcarver castes have traditional license to ignoremodesty and reserve. Each caste follows a particularcode of ethics; it creates a way of life according to itsrules and shapes the attitudes and behavior of itsindividual members. Thus, one may know, sometimesahead of time, the kind of reactions and the answers anindividual might give, depending on the customs andethics of his caste.The GetvalIn pre-literate societies, where writing and modernmeans ofcommunication did not exist, the spoken wordand the use of language were e.ssential to social organi-zation, to relationships between individuals and totransmission of knowledge, ideas, and values. This isthe reason the griot (oral historian) is without a doubtthe most well-known and popular figure of traditionalAfrica, and of Senegal in particular.The griots, or geww/ belong to the fifth caste. Tradi-tionally, they are considered to be of inferior status andare the troubadours, musicians, singers, oral historians. praise singers, and the like who generally serve noblefamilies. In traditional society they also played otherroles, such as messenger, confidant, and public enter-tainer. They used to praise and glorify the geer. Theytold of the heroic feats of warriors. They taught historyand instilled social values in younger generations. Theymight also serve as social mediators and masters ofceremonies. Attached to geer families for generations,the griot received gifts and other goods and was oftentotally dependent on them.The JaaniThe /aani, or slaves, do not in fact constitute a caste.Descendants of past prisoners of war, in many cases,they held inferior status. They depended their wholelives on their masters for food, lodging and clothing andcould be inherited by their master's heirs. Every above-mentioned caste could own slaves. Jaam were at the ex-clusive disposal of their master. They were the ones whousually cultivated their master's land and performedwhat are known as "servile" activities. But the slaverysystem has gradually disappeared in African societiesbecause of its interdiction by the modern state systemand also because of changes in world-view.These different castes are very separate, even today,and relate to each other only in a traditionally approvedmanner. For instance, marriage arrangements are stillendogamous: marriages are allowed only betweenpeople of the same caste. It is extremely rare that a geermarries a tegg and, a tegg's trying to marry a geer wouldbe an insult to the geer family in question. In urbancenters however, tradition and custom are becomingless important because of modernization and the chang-ing of popular consciousness; traditional taboos aregradually being eliminated.Although they have often been perceived as a reasonfor stagnation in traditional society, castes have contrib-uted to the maintenance of social cohesion. Caste-based production has filled the basic needs of Africanpopulations, contributing essential technology and socialorganization. In traditional Africa, they were elemen-taiy forms of social classes. Traditional Education andCircumcision Among the Diolain Rural SenegalFulgence SagtiaTranslated by Winifred Lambrecht Fulgence Sagna is a researcher andfolkloristfor the Centre d Etude des civilisations. He isthe area specialistfor Diola culture. This article ivaspublished in Demb ak Tey. a Senegalesefolklore Journal and is excetpted nith permission from Centre d'Etude des civilisations. Min-istere de la Culture de Senegal.In Senegal, a child's education starts eady in life,since according to a proverb, "A tree alreadygrown cannot be straightened." A child stillcrawling on all fours is watched carefully by hismother. She is the guardian of the hearth. The father,provider of material well-being, has other daily activi-ties. Both contribute to the child's education.The mother is responsible for the child's fcxxi. Sheadmonishes him to sleep on his side to encourage ahealthy physical development. She does not allow himto sleep on his belly or his back, for it is believed thatsleeping face down diminishes one's life chances, andsleeping on one's back creates bad dreams. During hisfirst three years, a child imitates adult activities, such ascooking.In rural areas, around the age of four or fi\e, a boy'seducation becomes different from a girl's. A girl isencouraged to do household work and is introduced toagricultural tasks. A boy is responsible for keepinggoats, sheep and even cattle. He will then learn to workthe fields with his father and will join a group of boyshis own age. Members of this group help one anotherin cultivating peanuts and weeding.Male circumcision is a social institution among manyof the peoples of Senegal, but nowhere is it moreimportant than among the Diola. The rite of circumci-sion is governed by firm rules shared throughout theethnic community whose economic and cultural liferests on this ethical foundation. According to tradition,circumcision takes place every 1^ to 20 years. Eachvillage undertakes the ritual ceremonies at the sametime.The purpose of circumcision is to admit young boysto the community of men as responsible members. It isrequired of them in order to marry. The sequence ot events during the period of circumcision ? isolationfrom the family, tests of endurance, instaiction andlearning and return to the family? permanently marksthe life of a young man. - Isolation for three to four months in the sacred groveseparates the young from their nuclear families andenhances learning. The length of time has now beenreduced because of the conversion of many Diola toIslam or Christianity and the introduction of non-traditional formal education. - Tests of endurance build a sense of responsibilitytoward the group of young men and toward the societyas a whole. One must give proof of courage andwithstand physical and psychological pain. - Civic and moral instniction aims at transforming theyoung initiates into responsible members of the com-munity of men. - Their return to family life marks their attainment ofadult status in the community.The internal structure of circumcision rituals isknown only by the Diola. It originated with the creationof sacred groves in the ancient villages of BouloufFogny and Lower-Casamance. Recently founded vil-lages do not have the right to practice circumcision.During the two days that precede entrance into thesacred groves, certain rites must be performed. Theseare shaving the head, benediction with sacred water andprotection by the forge. - Shaving the head is done in a sacred spot found ineach section of a village. It takes place, for instance,near the sacred post named Boukeg in the Diedhioufamily section of Niankite-Fougaye. The rite protectsthe child from bad luck; if it is not respected by theparents of the future initiate, he will have bad luck forthe rest of his life. A second part of the ritual takes place 53 at the Battum forge belonging to the Diedhiou family atNiankite in the Fougaye section. This defends againstmalevolent spirits that cause childhood diseases andagainst certain sorcerers. Libations made near twosacred posts protect the child against all evil, - The sacred water rite also takes place in each sectionof the village. Initiates from the villages of Niassarangand Kagnarou receive their benedicticm in the village ofNiassarang one day prior to their entrance in the sacredgrove. A blessing is made to the water in a depressionbetween two sections of the exposed roots of a fro-mager tree located in the Essyl neighborhood. Theinitiates are grouped and isolated from women at thistime because the sacred water can damage women'snormal reproductive development. It makes youngwomen become infertile, pregnant women abort, andwomen of post childbearing age have menses for therest of their lives. - A ritual at the forge protects initiates from dangersthat could strike them in the sacred grove. Whoeverseeks the blessing of the water of the forge is safe andwhoever fails to do so becomes a leper. Blacksmithsheat iron glowing red, then dip it into water. That wateris sprinkled on the future initiates. For Fogny, the ritualtakes place in the villages of Niankite, Suelle, andDiakine among the Diedhiou families, who alone are incharge of the forge.Circumcision in KagnarouVillageAccording to Diola tradition, entrance into the sacredgrove must be sanctioned by the spiritual beings whoreside there. Men in charge of the sacred grove appointthe person who widely announces the date on whichthe initiates may enter. The day is usually selectedaccording to the ancestral, lunar calendar.The eve of the entrance into the sacred grove ismarked in the various village neighborhoods by cele-brations that include shooting off firearms. Villagers aredivided into two groups, and those from the Bapolon-dioc neighborhood are the first to circle the fromagertree four to seven times. In Niankite village it is thosefrom the Fougaye section who circle the fromager tree.At this time, gunshots increa.se, and singing is accompa-nied by flutes, horns and the clash of metal objects.These shooting demonstrations take place in the after- noon and evening, sometimes longer. Foubalot Badji,the great sorcerer from Bignona county, makes futureinitiates invulnerable with a traditional meal that pro-tects them against swords, knives, arrows and bullets.Finally, on the next day, the day appointed by thespirits for entering into the sacred grove, the openingritual is carried out by those who belong to the oldestneighborhood. At Kagnarou, since people from Bopolon-dioc refused to agree to the conditions requested bytheir grove, they delegated the solemn opening topeople from the Kassana neighborhood. After thatsection, Kansy, Dialamantang, Baliyoeng, and othersfollow. A huge crowd led by dancers follows the futureinitiates. Women come behind singing. They have tearsin tlieir eyes at the thought that their sons may not returnafter their stay in the grove. Some carry a jug of wateror dolo, a drink made from millet flour, water, and aspecial plant reserved for the initiates. A line at the edgeof the grove marks a boundary beyond which strangersand women cannot go.There the initiates are given a drink of water or doloand then enter the grove in single file. The rhythm ofgunshots increases. Women and visitors must return iothe village.At Mlomp village in Bignona county, the shavingritual is performed in front of a large crowd on the daythe initiates enter the grove. Shaving is done with a knifeor razor blade. When a future initiate is shaved, a tuftof hair is left near the forehead. Women carry smolder-ing bunches of palm nuts whose copious smoke dis-tracts evil spirits. The initiates' remaining tuft of hair isremoved near a fromager tree chosen for that occasionin each neighborhood. In the Fogny area, the tuft isremoved at the ancestral home of the founder of a .section.In Mlomp, rituals take place alongside holes fromwhich earth was dug to make mortar for buildinghouses. The initiates circle a hole seven times, precededby their mentors. Women are not allowed to take partin this procession.All Mlomp neighboriiuods go tc^ a central grovelocated in the South for the initial testing of theirinitiates. The priority for entrance is the same as in theFogny and Boulouf areas. Those from the oldest neigh-borhood enter first. All must obey the rules and wait atthe outskirts of the grove. If ancestral priorities are notrespected, severe consequences await the erring neigh- 54 borhood.s. Deaths, di.sappearanct-s and cases of insanitymay result for those who disobeyed. Grove spiritsharass group members until ancestral mles are followedand sacrifices made. Once the first part of the ritual atthe central grove has ended, men surround the initiates,who carry branches with green leaves. A procession toeach of the other sacred groves then follows.Gunshots cease. All that can be heard is the singingof men that calls forth courage and willpower from eachinitiate about to receive the ancestral seal of circumci-sion.The rituals that take place inside the grove concernthe Diola people only. To reveal them would result indeath or insanity'. 55 Musics of StruggleAnthony Seeger IntroductionIf music were not a powerful resource in social andpolitical struggles it would not be so widely censored,controlled, and surrounded with restrictions. All aroundthe world music creates loyalties and galvanizes oppo-sition so well that music itself sometimes becomes anobject of struggle, rather than an expression of broaderissues. Americans with long memories will recall thepolitically motivated artist blacklisting in the 1950s, themoral furor over the Rolling Stones in the 1960s, andmany other so-called "crises" that prefigured today'suneasiness about rap and heavy metal. As I write,several states are debating record labeling statutes,Newsweek presents a cover story on rap music (March19, 1990 with letters in subsequent issues), and GaryTrudeau's comic strip "Doonesbury" caricatures thegenerational, exclusionary, aspects of American popu-lar music (The Washington Post, March 5-10, 1990). Atthe same time, song and dance accompany liberationmovements in South Africa, the Baltic, and the MiddleEast; union halls swell with song, and musical groups inLatin America promote local community development. "Other people" aren't the only ones who use musicin their struggles. Did you ever make up a song aboutone of your teachers, a girlfriend or boyfriend, yourboss, or try "rapping" about something that botheredyou? Did you ever remain stubbornly silent wheneveryone else was singing something you didn't agreewith? Maybe you recall singing (or not singing) "WeShall Overcome" as you marched in 'Washington, "I Ain'tGonna Study 'War No More" in the antiwar movement,or some other song that expressed political positionsyou held. 'Whether you joined with thousands of othersin public or sang alone in the shower, you probablyhave some experience with the subject of this summer'smusic program, "Musics of Staiggle."Performers at the 1990 Fe,stival of American Folklife will present some of the music they have used in theirstruggles, and you will have an opportunity to contrib-ute your own songs of struggle to the archives of theSmithsonian Institution's Office of Folklife Programs bysinging them to collectors at the Festival. This shortessay outlines some general features of music in socialstniggles. By no means complete, readers can supple-ment it with examples from their own experience andwith the books and records cited in the bibliography.'How Is Music Meaningful?Music consists of structured sounds, including pitchesthat are combined to form melodies, beats that arecombined to form rhythms, and sound textures that arecombined to form what musicians call timbres. Repeti-tive patterns are central to all music, and the patterns aregiven meanings by performers and their audiences, byfans as well as detractors. The patterns of each musicalfeature may convey meaning, and each can be varied tochange or comment on its usual associations. Thussome people may associate a certain melody ? anational anthem for example? with national pride andcitizenship; but to others the melody may mean politicaloppression and exclusionary laws. Playing the melodyto a different rhythm, at a different speed, or withunusual orchestration can mock or accentuate the .sentiments usually as.sociated with it.Certain rhythms can be significant in themselves.The steady beat of a march may recall parades, wars, orsports events. A "disco" beat may inspire dancing whileother rhythms may recall national, regional, or ethnictraditions. Sometimes rhythms can be quite specific. InAfro-Brazilian religious drumming, certain rhythms areas.sociated with specific deities.While Western musicology has rarely focused onsound qualities, the.se can have associations of their The Musics ofStruggle Program has been madepossible, in part, by the Music Performance Trust Funcis. the Inter-American Foundation and the Arab American Cultural Foundation. 'Mast of the literature on music of struggle deals with specific traditions. Very few general obser\'ations appear to have been made about therelation of music to struggle outside of particular historical circumstances Chut see Denselow 1989). This essay is an initial attempt at such anapproach. Readers are invited to send their suggestions and comments to the author at the Office of Folklife Programs 56 own. The same melody and rhythm performed on abrass band will have a different effect on the audiencefrom a performance on violins or piccolos. Certaininstrumental or vocal timbres become associated withclass, regional, national, or even international traditions.The unique sound quality of Andean Indian instalmentshas itself become an emblem of an emerging ethnic andregional identity, quite apart from the melodies andrhythms performed on them. Sound qualities aredirectly associated with types of instamients (even inthis age of the synthesizer), and certain sounds may beassociated with the regional origin or social history ofthe instruments themselves. Swiss horns, Norwegianhardingfiddles, American banjos, Caribbean steel drums,Scottish bagpipes, African royal claims, and many otherinstruments have associations with a region, a way oflife, and often with a type of music. Just a little bit of theirsound carries with it many other as.sociations.Music is structurally repetitive. Sometimes the repe-titions themselves are significant. They may evenembody a cosmology, where a pattern is repeated toreach of the cardinal directions, each of the major deities,or some other consecrated number.As long ago as 1779 the French writer/philosopherJean-Jacques Rousseau noted that the "meaning" ofmusic does not reside in its physical sounds so much asin their interpretation. His famous description of how acertain song could make Swiss army troops burst intotears, desert, or even die, makes this important generalpoint about music:We shall seek in vain to find in this air any energeticaccents capable of producing such astonishing effects.These effects, which are void in regard to straugeis,come alonefrom custom, refection, and a thousandcircumstances, which retrac'd by those who hearthem, and recalling the idea of their country, theirformer pleasures, their youth, and all the joys of theirlife, excite in them a bitter sorrow for the loss of them.The music does not in this case actprecisely as music[physical sound], bid as a memorativesign... It is notin theirphysical action we should seek for the greateffects ofsrmnds on the huma)i hea}-t. (Rou,sseau 1975[17791:267, emphasis mine)The "thousand circumstances" that give meaning tomelodies, rhythms, and timbres are specific and histori-cal. Since each aspect of music (melody, rhythm,timbre, repetitiveness) can be varied independently tocomment on or modify the significance of the otheraspects, music can be a complex system of signs capableof being used even without words in staiggles.Song is the combination of music and language. Theaddition of words to music adds rhetorical power andsemantic complexity to the already subtle messages sentand interpreted through in,staimental music. Most songtexts are poetry, constaicted within constraints of meter,sometimes rhyme, and sometimes the pitches of a tonal language. Song texts can convey information in manydifferent ways and can be altered to suit the occasioneven more easily than musical features. In comparisonwith speech, most song texts are relatively fixed, andtheir association with particular melodies can serve bothmemory and irony.Scmgs permit the creation of complex relationshipsbetw^een the music and the text. Sometimes the musicwill be used to express one message and the text toexpress another altogether. A songwriter can take apopular melody and write new words to it that may evencontradict the original song. Joe Hill, a labor songwriterfor the I.W.W., took the melody from a hymn "In theSweet Bye and Bye" and parodied its religious rhetoricwith the words "You'll get pie in the sky, bye and bye."He also used the melody from a song about a prostituteand wrote words to it about a woman labor organizer;and took the melody of a popular love song and putwords to it about a prostitute. The "Battle Hymn of theRepublic" and "Solidarity Forever" use the same melodyto express different ideas. The combination of a well-known melody with new words can be an important re-source in the musics of struggle.Music does not only convey messages. Performingmusic can increase feelings of community and solidar-ity. One way to turn a crowd into a community is to getpeople to sing, chant, or gesture together (the last beingeffectively u.sed in the Gallaudet "Deaf President Now"protests in 1988 represented at this year's Festival).There are many participatory singing traditions in the hi! l>nuv audh^h,pn-.hkul Ini.i,, /-,/.-,LIIIII1ls\ (Hllllllldil I III! \ln-union companies. Fourteen months into negotia-tions, members of the United Mine Workers ofAmerica voted to strike; it began on April 4, 1989.A musical dimension of this struggle emerged inthe newly composed lyrics sung to traditional gospeland bluegrass music. Mrs. Edna Sauls of the Daugh-ters of Mother Jones emerged as an inspired lyricist,and the Rabbit Ridge Pea Pickers became well-known musical morale boosters. One lyric written inresponse to repeated encounters with Virginia statetroopers and addressed to former Governor Balilessaid: Sinking cmil mhn'i^ ;(.* miisicpicket line. (I'holo by Richard BmIf 'llrkc^^s ofA mencci ) Going to Richmond.And when I go.Tell that old Virginia boyWe ain 't gonna haul no coal.During the Christmasseason, traditional carolswere given a new slantwith words that ex-pressed the determina-tion ofthe miners to standfirm.Hazel Dickens ofMercer County, WestVirginia, whose musicaltalents were featured inthe Academy Award win-ning film "Harlan County,U.S.A." and in "Matewan,"has sung what she calls "southern mountainmusic" for most of herlife. Her father mined fora living and made musicfor enjoyment in addition to working as a Baptistminister. His eleven children grew up singing andplaying instalments. Ms. Dickens' home communityexperienced lay-offs and strikes, and she lost heroldest brother and two brothers-in-law to black lungdisease. Her songs on social issues and coal mining ? including one she wrote on black lung? embodythe experience and aesthetics of a vital, regionalmusic tradition, interpreted through her own individ-ual perspective and remarkable talent.Ms. Dickens notes how similar the mine wars ofthe 1920s were to the Pittston strike. Then as now, "gun thugs" were used to try to intimidate the strik- ((,?. a III:hero, c: <-ii/c hitislernii theiitcsy liiUecl Mine 58 ers. Ms. Dickens observed that the Pittston strikers,like their predecessors 60 years ago, were "extremelyspirited" in their resolve to fight, "It was great to see,"said Ms. Dickens, who has given several perform-ances to benefit the Pitt.ston miners.CITA TIONS AND FURTHER READINGSCamo Carols. 1989. Adapted by Julie McCall forthe Labor Heritage Foundation. Madison. Wl: Lake-side Press.Dentzer, Susan. 1990. A healthy settlement formine workers: Pittston strikers won big, but the fightover retiree benefits has just begun. U.S. News &World Report. January 15:45.Fowke, Edith and Joe Glazer. 1973. SoufiSofWorkand Protest. New York: Dover Publications.Korson, George. 1964. Minstrels oftheMine Patch:Songsand StoriesoftheAnthracite Indiistiy. Hathoro.PA: Folklore Associates, Inc.Pittston Coal Miners. 1989. Highlander Reports.Fall:2-3. Pittston Miners' Strike a Clash of Principles andPersonalities. 1989. Chicago Tribune. Nov. 26: sec-tion 1, p. 11.Thompson, Chariie D. 1989. The Pittston Strike.Southern Clnuiges. ll(h):I, 3-6.SUGGESTED LISTENINGDickens, Hazel. A Few Old Memories. RtninderRecords 11529. . Its Hard to Tell the Singer Fromthe Song. Rounder Records 0220. . Come All You Coal Miners.Rounder Records 4005. . Hard Hitting SongsforHard HitPeople. Rounder Records 0126.Glazer, Joe. Down in a Coal Mine. Collector Rec-ords 1923. . We (AW: Fifty )'ears in So)ig & Story.Collector Records 1940. coni . from page 57style can be isolated as "the music of staiggle." Almostany kind of music can be used as a sign of struggle,depending on the meanings given to the performancesby participants and their opponents. An instrumentalarrangement can be as forceful as a lyric; a rhythm canbe as expressive as a phrase. Sometimes an unchangedold folk song is as potent as a new composition. Themeaning of a musical performance depends to a largeextent on the specific context in which it occurs ? the "thousand circumstances" referred to by Rousseau andrarely understood fully except after considerable inves-tigation.Why Use Music in Struggles?why do people involved in struggles make music atall? Wouldn't it be more effective to work silently andresolutely to change an unsatisfactoi^ situation ratherthan sing songs about it? Although it has been argued "the pen is mightier than the sword," what wouldhappen if everyone put down their pens, stoppedmaking music, and took up swords? What indeed! Theymight all swing their swords in different directions, atdifferent times, and at different fcjes. Among otherthings, music can focus attention, mobilize emotions,and coordinate activities.To mobilize people toward a goal, you need to makethe issues clear, you need to get people to agree withthem, and you need to incite them to act. Music canaccomplish these quite effectively. Songs can help bringcertain i.ssues into focus and specify an approach to them. Song words can be standardized and passed onwithout requiring that people read, write, or possessincriminating evidence. Music can focus attention oninjustices, create feelings of solidarity, advocate a cer-tain cause, encourage supporters, and frighten oppo-nents. It can create links between the present and thepast while helping to create a new and different future.Music is not unique in its ability to act symbolicallyin struggle. Although language, dialect, speeches,written documents, dancing, theater, dress, and evenfood can all mobilize groups, music has several attri-butes that make it particularly suitable for mobilizingpeople. Songs often can be performed while doingsomething else (like working or marching); they don'tnecessarily require physical objects (props, stoves,plates, etc.), they can be changed quickly, and they canbe sufficiently abstract to unify a wide range of supportand confuse the opposition.Although music is widely used in struggles, it is notfound everywhere. Protest is sometimes expressedthrough silence or another expressive mode. Wheremost public forms of music are dominated by a centralstate, opposition to the state may take non-musicalforms. Where individual opinions are not culturallysanctioned, new songs may not be composed. Wheremusic is considered to be a low status form of activity,performers of higher status may choose other modes ofexpression. Opposition may be expressed by refusingto participate (silence) or refusing to attend perform-ances (boycotting) rather than through music itself.Silence is probably a fairly common protest in societieswhere eveiyone is expected to participate, and where 59 all music is ritual and cannot be altered to conveyparticular messages. Boycotting performances (andattending other performances) is probably common insocieties where attending an event is considered toindicate group membership or common cause with theorganizers and performers.Yet in societies with a fair degree of individualism,where musical composition and performances areconsidered to be voluntaiy acts, the use of music in .staiggles seems likely to appear.Protest music especially written for a certain strugglecan take a number of different approaches. They maysimply state "we are here, and we endure." They mayemphasize the common identity of group feeling orrelate information and spread recent news (like auralnewspapers) or recall past events that exemplify thestruggle (like stories of massacres or victories), orcommemorate movement heroes and even other song-writers. They may refer to ethical values and evokeemotions by describing a tense situation with humor orirony (often present in topical songs), or by making funof powerful opponents? supervi,sors, teachers, politi-cians, a church. By commemorating the past andsinging about heroes, songs can relate a local stmggleto a larger social movement, endowing local events witha wider historical significance. Conversely, a largermovement may make more sense when its i.ssues areexemplified by references to local events.Music of struggle is often functional and disposable.When the situation changes, the music will be changed.A topical song may have a dramatic relevance onemoment and be swiftly forgotten as other i.s.sues arise.The subtle relationship of music and text may beforgotten when the music no longer has the sameassociations. On the other hand, songs long dormantmay be revived, changed, and used again, gaining andconferring cumulative historical significance.The performances presented in the 1990 Festival ofAmerican Folklife all commemorate recent movements,or movements which are frequently recalled. Yet someof their .songs have a long history.Investigating Musics ofStruggleMany different kinds of struggle have musical expres-sion. The best way to approach the subject is to examinefirst the nature of the struggle and then the way itsparticipants use and interpret music, if they do so at all.Struggle can be defined as "A continued effort toresist force or free oneself from constraint" (OxfordEnglish Dictionary). It can be contrasted with "protest"which means to make a public declaration againstsomething. Struggles include protests, but struggles arethe larger social process which actually oppose particu-lar social practices. Human societies are filled with struggles, which takea variety of forms. Social life is characterized as muchby conflict as by harmony. Virtually every social groupis cxjmposed of smaller groups with different access toimportant resources and different power to constrainothers ? crucial differences that generate tensions andconflict. In some societies the main contrasts may beage and gender. In other societies divisions may fallalong ethnic lines; in yet others they may be formed bybirth, naming, or the inheritance of scarce knowledge orresources. In nearly every society some members of thegroups so formed attempt to escape from these con-straints or at least to create areas where constraints donot a-pply.Some types of conflict are constant within a society,others appear from time to time, and yet others are veryspecific and occur only once in a while. Some of themost obvious forms of conflict appear between age andgender groups, within occupations, in political disputes,between culturally defined groups, and in internationalevents.Domestic StrugglesNot all struggles involve ethnic groups, politicalparties, or labor unions. Some struggles occur in thehome, between parents and children and between menand women. Conflicts between parents and childrenand between an age group and its nearby age groups arecommon in many societies. There is often moreharmony between more distantly related people ?grandparents and grandchildren, older and much younger ? than between adjacent groups. In the United Statesthe family is an arena of considerable conflict. Children'sstruggles with their parents are amply documented inpopular music, which may become the object of paren-tal protest ? witness the furor over Madonna's song "Papa Don't Preach."Relations between men and women define anotherarea of considerable conflict in many societies. Rela-tions between men and women have been a topic ofsongs for centuries. An old lament goes:Oh hard is thefortune of all ivomenkindAlways controlled and always confinedControlled by theirparents until they are wivesnen slaves to their husbands the rest of their lives.If that has changed, it has been through individual,collective, and legislative struggles. The women's rightsmovements of the 20th century have stimulated manyexcellent songwriters.U.S. popular music tends to highlight the difticultiesconfronted in relationships with members of the oppo-site sex in musical forms produced for dancing withthem. Many country music lyrics speak of lonelinessand isolation. Often decried for ignoring larger socialcont. page 63 60 KurdsJcicqiielin C. Peters Kurdistan ? "land of the Kurds" ? a fertile arearich in oil, chrome, copper, iron and lignite, occupiesan expanse of land only slightly smaller than the stateof Texas, but it cannot be found on standard mapstoday. For thousands of years, Kurds have inhabitedthe Zagros and Taurus mountains of eastern Anatolia,which span parts of present day Iraq, Iran, Syria, Tur-key, and Soviet Armenia. Kurdish attempts to assertpolitical autonomy have been opposed ? oftenviolently ? by thegovernments of sur-rounding countries.Continuing clashesbetween the Kurdsand the nationalpowers have devas-tated and displacedtheir population.Deported and sub-jected to chemicalwarfare in Iraq, theKurds have been es-pecially hard hit in the1980s. The assault onthis ethnic group takeson cultural aspects inSyria and in Iran,where traditional clothing and holidays, such as theNewroz (New Year's Day), have been declaredillegal.In the hands of artists such as Shivan Perwer,Feqiye Teyra and Temo Ezzadin, the tambour ? atraditional instrument with three sets of doubledstrings ? makes music that is perceived as a threatby the countries they fled. Said Gabari, a musicianwho resided in Syria, is said to have been blinded tenyears ago as a result of his musical themes. Otherrenown Kurdish singers living in exile include NaserRazzazi, who performed for the Kurdish Newrozcelebration sponsored by the D.C. chapter of the Kur-dish National Congress, and Sherin, who employs na-tionalistic themes and exemplifies the prominent role Wcdiitin Hiiliiiihi! t/rcss. Ki(n/s ceilarch 2-4. IWO Tlu'se material, cer ?thiiK identity are frirhicliletJ hy gonUmnuite the Kurds tPhnln coiiite.s] women have had throughout Kurdish history. Thepoetic message of the songs, sometimes .strong,sometimes subtle, is dangerous rhetoric or high artaccording to the listener's perspective.Citations and Further ReadingsBois, Th. V. Minorsky and D.N. MacKenzie. 1960.Kurds, Kurdistan. Ihe Encyclopedia ofIslam (newedition). Leiden, TheNethedands: E.J. Brill.Kurd. 198S. neNew Encyclopedia Bh-taunica. 7:40.Laber, Jeri (S; LoisWhiteman. 1988.Destroying Ell.uiicIdentity: The Kurds ofTurkey: A HelsinkiWatch Report. March1988. New York:Human Rights Watch.ne Proliferation ofChemical Warfare: TlyeHolocaust at Halahja.1988. 'Washington, DC:People for a Just Peace.Woodson, LeRoy, Jr. I97S. We Who Face Death.National Geoi>raphic. l47(3):364-387.Suggested ListeningChants et Miisiqiies dii Kurdistan: Croupe KamaZozan. Arion ARN 33719.Kurdish Folk Musicfrom Western Iran. Recordedby Dieter and Nerthus Christensen. Ethnic FolkwaysLibrary FE 4301.Kurdish Folk Songs and Dances. Recorded byRalph S. Solecki. Ethnic Folkways Library FE -n(39.Temo, Barde du Kurdistan: la tradition et Te.xil.Ocora. Radio France 588 573, MU 218.Feqiye Teyra. Kurdistan 1988. Gema GVL 31126. iehrate .Xeiiro: (.Xeie )ears> miemnnuil ami cultural exlnessuDis njriiDieuls ?ecl-ui.ii ta ii\si,)itlate nrr Kurdish .Xtitimutl ( nuvrc^s) 61 The Gallaudet "Deaf President Now MovementJaccjuelii! C. Peters Gallaudet University students galvanized the deafcommunity and revolutionized global perceptions ofdeaf people in their "Deaf President Now" (DPN)Movement in March, 1988. "The time is now" wastheir rallying cry, which held implications for deafpride, self-assertion, and civil rights extending be-yond the DPN issue.Gallaudet University, founded by President Lin-coln in 1864 and funded primarily through Congres-sional appropriations, educates deaf students frompre-school age through graduate school. When thesixth president. Dr. Jerry Lee, announced that he wasretiring, there was optimism on campus that, for thefirst time in the University's 124-year history, one ofthe two qualified deaf candidates. Dr. Harvey J.Corson or Dr. L Kingjordan, would be voted into thevacated position by the Boardof Trustees. When the Chairof the 21-member board, onlyfive of whom were deaf,announced the board's choiceof Dr. Elisabeth Zinser ? ahearing educator who knewno sign language ? initialshock, anger and disbeliefgave way to student mobili-zation and strike from March6 through 13, 1988.Four student leaders ?Greg Hlibok, Jerry Covell,Bridgetta Bourne, and TimRarus ? together stood at the helm as organizers,spokespersons and morale boosters. On the first dayof the strike, 500 students set out to shut down thecampus after a stormy meeting with the university ad-ministration. While the school remained open,students claimed that 90 percent of the campuscommunity participated in the strike. Campus en-trances were blockaded with shuttle busses after thetires were flattened. The faculty voted 147 to 5 toback the students.The civil rights movements of other groups, suchas African Americans, South Africans and women,served as points of comparison and reference in theDPN struggle. During the campus rallies, studentleader and cheerleader Bridgetta Bourne led signlanguage chants such as "Deaf Power! " "Deaf Presi-dent Now!" and "Zinser Out!" to keep spirits high asthe freedom songs did in the Civil Rights Movementof the 1960s. A waving sea of hands signed to the 4/ The "DeafPivsident Now" Movement drew inspircilu-from other struggles involving civil rights. (Cartoon h\Mike Keefe of the Denver Post) 4 rhythm of impromptu percussionists at DPN dem-on.strations the way that a dance class or a cheerlead-ing practice at Gallaudet moves to a drummed beat.The Friday "Deaf Pride Day" march on the Capitol,which attracted 3,000 marchers from all over the U.S.,was headed by a banner borrowed from the CrispusAttucks Museum emblazoned with the message "WeStill Have a Dream"; the same banner had been usedin a niarch to have Dr. King's birthday decreed anational holiday. The "Deaf Pride Day" march anddenranstration on the National Mall took place asplanned despite Zinser's previous resignation, as thestrikers waited for the response to their other de-mands. Using sign language and lip synchronization,students of the Model Secondary School for the Deaf(MSSD) presented "The Time is Now," composed bytheater teacher and play-wright Tim McCarthy.The words the deaf worldhad been waiting for cameon Sunday, March 13, whenDr. L Kingjordan was votedin as the eighth president ofGallaudet University. Amajority' deaf task force wasnamed to formulate a major-ity deaf board. LUtimatelythere were no reprisalsagainst the strikers. A sur-prisingly peaceful sceneawaited President Jordon onMonday, .March l4, when he arrived on campus tobegin his administration. CITATIONS AND FURTHER READINGSBruske, Ed. 1988. Protest Gained SympathyNationwide. Washington Post. March 10.Gallaudet Faculty' Backs Students. 1988. Washing-ton Post. March 10.Gannon, Jack. 1989. Tlie Day Voe World HeardGallaudet. Washington, DC: Gallaudet UniversityPress.Kannapell, Barbara M. 1985. Orientation to Deaf-ness: A Handbook and Resource Guide. Washington,DC: Gallaudet College Printing and Graphic Services.Sanchez, Carlos and Martin Weil. 1988. ZinserQuits Gallaudet Amid Student Uproar. WashingtonPost. March 11. 62 coiit. fn/i)i page 60issues, U.S. popular music does focus on a few of thecommon experiences faced by parts of the population. ' A musical genre itself may become an emblem of anage group, and an expression of its protest again.st thestandards of another group. This may happen in anycountry, and often involves the adoption of a nex\-niusical form bv a certain class or age group. In theUnited States during the 20th century almo.st ever\"generation has been identified with an emerging musi-cal style (although its members may listen to manydifferent kinds of music). One group will support thesr>'le, another group will oppose it, and the argumentswill be waged at the dining room table, on the pages ofBillboard Magazine, People Magazine and sometimesin the halls of Congress. The I'nited States has a longhistory of attempting to ban music and dance aslascivious and dangerous to the public good. At timesmusical performance itself becomes the battlefield,rather than simply the expression of a larger conflictover .self determination and authority. The originalsocial condition is not remedied, but instead songcontent about it is censored (a point reiterated by manyof the defenders of the music industiy again.st thecensorship of offensive texts).School is one of the first experiences many childrenhave with authority beyond the family, and one wouldexpect experience in schools to contribute to somerather pithy songs. A "Talking Homework Blues" Iwrote in 7th grade is an example of a song that describesa child's stmggle at school but does not propose aremedy (except perhaps not falling behind in the firstplace). Given how important teachers are to theirstudents at all levels, it is surprising that there is nobibliography on children's songs about school.Work StrugglesMany kinds of work inxohe hierarchical organiza-tion, inequality, and often outright exploitation of somepeople by others. The struggles to survive with lowwages, to grow enough crops to pay back borrowedmoney, to improve working conditions, to organizeworkers to negotiate with, contend against, or escapefrom their supervisors, bosses, middlemen, or owners(in the case of slavery) have fostered hundreds of songsover the decades.Some occupational songs are fitted to the work itself:woodcutting songs and sail-raising songs coordinatecollective activities while long ballads may help passaway tedious hours spent in repetitive tasks. Othersongs describe a worker's life and the difficulties ofsurviving under harsh discipline on low wages. Songs related to union organizing have become the archetypefor songs of struggle in the United States.The U.S. labor movement has a long, bitter, andembattled history. Certain industries have seen pro-kjnged strife over union organizing, strikes, and retali-ation by company owners often supported by local,state, and even national authorities. The eastern coalmining industry is one of the most famous of theseindustries. Difficult, dangerous, and unhealthy workingconditions, the fluctuating markets for coal, the rurallocation oi mines, and changing mining technologyhave resulted in long and violent conflicts, of which therecently settled Pitt.ston Coal strike is only the mostrecent example. Some of the most famous unionorganizing songs, such as "Which Side Are You On?"(They say in Harlan county/There are no neutrals there./Either you're a union man/Or a thug for J.H. Blair.)originated in mining strife.Many songs about work and labor unrest are com-posed about particular events and then forgotten whenthe crisis passes, perhaps to be replaced by anothersong about something el.se. John Greenway notes,except for the very simple ones (""We Shall Not BeMoved") and the very best ones ("Union M.iid")[songs of protest] are likely to become forgottenquickly because it is easier to set to the basic tunenew words more relevant to immediate issuesand circumstances than it is to remember the old.(John Greenway 1953:C))To Greenway 's comment one can add Pete Seeger'sobservation that "almost every old song can teach yougood things, but it can also teach you bad things, andyou have to balance the two when you sing i\..."(SingOut! 29 (3): 4) Songs are not only replaced becausethey are forgotten, but also because they are not entirelyappropriate to a new situation.Professional musicians have taken some songs fromkxal communities and made them part of the nationalrepertory. The song "Which Side Are You On?" (men-tioned above) was forgtJtten in its home communitywJiile it was being revived as a union song in otherplaces. Pete Seeger recalls:In 1940 I learned the song "'Which Side Are You On?"from a folklorist who had been researching in easternKentucky in 1932. Later, I met Mrs. Reece, who wrotethe song. At that time it was unknown except in thememories of her family and a few miners of Harlancount>' who heard her daughters sing it in the 1932union meetings. (P. Seeger 1972: 76)Partly because of Pete Seeger's use of "'Which SideAre You On?" in the union movement and later in the co)it. page 66 - U.S. popular music fias often been criticized for its di.stance from the social and political realities of people's lives. Regardless of what itdoes mil portray, what it does select is an important part of American culture There are no cx.imples ot family and generational .strugglewith the music program this year, but e.xamples should be familiar to anyone acqLiainted with the popular music scene. 63 South AfricaJacquelin C. Peters Since the Dutch first settled at the Cape of GoodHope in 1652, South Africa's bountiful land and min-eral riches have been sources of conflict. Over thecourse of several centuries, Dutch (now the Afrikan-ers) and British settlers were able to seize land fromthe indigenous African peoples. By the end of the19th century, the Europeans dominated over 90 per-cent of the territory. When diamonds and gold werediscovered in the late 19th century, European settlersprevented Africans from sharing in the land's wealthand transformed them into atightly controlled, poorly paidlabor force.When the Union of SouthAfrica came into existence in1910, the new settler-rungovernment held absolutepolitical and economic power.Segregation was the order ofthe day and, with few excep-tions, Africans could not par-ticipate in political decisions.They were allowed to holdjobs only as unskilled, cheaj:)laborers.Since 1948, the NationalistParty has been in power. Ithas promoted a policy calledapartheid (separateness),which built on and intensifiedEuropean domination througha vast array of laws and edicts.The Population RegistrationAct categorized people intodifferent racial groups; theGroups Areas Act separateddifferent racial groups in theurban areas; the Abolition of Pa.sses and Coordina-tion of Documents Act forced all Africans above theage of 16 to carry passes which controlled theirresidence and movement. The government's ulti-mate objective was to consign African people, 75 per-cent of South Africa's population, to bits of impover-ished land called Bantustans or homelands, on about13 percent of its poorest land. In order to achievethat, the government forcibly removed an estimated Music and daiici' were ritcil componeiils (ij'thcreception welcoming Nelson Mandela to Lusaka.Zambia. (Photo by D. Michael Cheers, courtesy AfricanStudies and Research Program. Howard Uniivrsily) 35 million African people from their homes between1960 and 1980. The government also insured thatAfricans would continue to have inferior educationby structuring a school system that favored Europeanchildren. The government allocates $296 for theschooling of each African child compared to $1,194for each European child (Williams, 1990:23).African leaders and organizations have challengedthe injustices and inequities of colonial mle at everystep. A leading organization representing Blackopinion has been the AfricanNational Congress (ANC),founded in 1912. Along withother African protest and trad'eunion groups, the ANC chal-lenged colonial rule throughnon-violent strategies until thegovernment outlawed theopposition in I960, and bannedthe ANC, Pan African Con-gress (PAC) and the Commu-nist Party. The bannings andfailed attempts to effect apeaceful .settlement led theANC and the PAC to turn toarmed .struggle. Governmentrepression of Black dissenthas been forceful in recentdecades, but political, church,community, student and tradeunion groups have sustainedthe struggle and capturedworidwide attention.In Febaiary, 1990, the gov-ernment lifted its bannings onBlack opposition movementsand released ANC leader Nel-son Mandela, who had been in prison for 27 years.But despite the release of Mandela and other anti-apartheid leaders, many more political prisonersremain in jail. Despite the legalizing of organizationssuch as the ANC and the PAC, the State of Emergencyremains in effect. Despite the government statementthat exiles may return to South Africa, they may stillface prosecution and jail for their political acts.Moreover, Blacks do not have the vote, and the three 64 key apartheid laws? the Natives Land Act, the Popu-lation Registration Act, and the Group Areas Act ? still endure. The government has done away withsome discriminatory laws, but apartheid is still inforce.Music of struggle in South Africa has many formsand performance contexts. It is based on a variety ofregional styles including unaccompanied polyphonicsinging, which is an integral part of everyday life.Another regional influence on music used in struggleis praise poetry, often a rap-like poetic recitative thataffirms the cultural significance of particular peopleand events. Such poetr)' is found today among urbanlaborers who use the genre to express their physicalprowess and to give voice to problems they face farfrom their families. Amahubo, clan identity anthemswith slow, synchronized movements and high kicks,is another traditional ha.se for men's stings and dancesteps performed in the setting of workers' com-pounds.South African music of .struggle also has hadsources in European musics and in the musics oftouring choirs and musical reviews. Influences onSouth African composers and arrangers during theearly 1900s include African American music of theFisk Jubilee Singers and choirs of the charismaticChurch of God in Christ denomination; minstrel mu-sic, and ragtime, the popular syncopated Ameri-can music of the turn of the century. Blending suchgenres with their own traditional music, noted SouthAfrican composers working in the makwaya ("choir")genre ? such as Caluza, Bokwe, and Tyamzashe ?combined rising nationalistic feelings and socialcommentary with compelling harmonies and rhythms.Ngoma, songs and dances performed at wed-dings, together with mission school "action song, " laid the groundwork for mbube, which consciouslyadapted a European (homophonic) four-part har-mony vocal style'. In 1939, a young migrant workerSolomon Linda made the first recording ? entitled "Mbube" ? which named and dc^cumented thegenre; the melody would be identified by Americanaudiences as "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." Isicatha-miya ("walk softly") and cathoza mfana ("walk .stead-ily, boys"), other forms of Zulu male singing whichdeveloped from mbube, have gained internationalcommercial acceptance. - Mbube songs expressing political protest againstexploitation were often heard on the South AfricanBroadcasting Corporation until the late 1940s, whenstringent monitoring became the aile. " ViikaniMauvthii" ("Wake Up, My People"), a well-knownmakwaya song, frightened radio censors with itspotential to mobilize Africans. And until recently itwas illegal even to hum the ANC anthem "NkosiSikelel' iAfhka" ("God Bless Africa"), although thishas not prevented people around the world fromlearning the song. The circumvention of censorshipcontinues to be a challenge to South African musi-cians and composers; South African music has servedas a means of defining opposition to colonial rule andaffirming African identity and unit)-.CITATIONS AND FURTHER READINGSBaker, Pauline. 1989. Tlje United States and SouthAfrica: The Reafian Years. New York: Foreign PolicyAssociation.Bracker, Milton. K)(il. African Rallies Marked bySong. Sing Out! 11:(3).Coplan, David. 19it. page 66 ' "Action .song" is accompanied by controlled mo\'ements allowing a phy.sical response to mu.sden b\- the church fathers. short of dancing, which was forbid- - Contemporary major exponents include the Boyoyo Boys, whose singing fir.st caught Paul Simon's ear. leading to the success ofLady.smith Black Mambazo outside of Africa. "Ladysmith" serenades its international following ? with .i non-political repertory ? iEnglish as well as Zulu. 65 Williams, Juan. 1990. At the Gates of Freedom.The Washington Post Magazine.SUGGESTED LISTENING .\maduduzo. Siyahaniukela. Rounder Records5043.Boyoyo Boys. Back in Town. Rounder Records5026.Harry Belafonte and Minam Makeba. An Eve-ning with Belafonte and Makeba. RCA LSP3420.Ladysmith Black Mambazo, African Zulu MaleChoir, others. Mhuhe Roots: Zulu ChoralMusicfromSouth Africa, I930's-60's . Rounder Records 5025. Let TIjeir Voices Be Heard: Traditional Singing inSouth Africa. Rounder Records 5024.Manka Le Phallang, Manonyana A Moama, Se-bata Sebata. Sheshwe: The Sound of the Mines.Rounder Records 5031Music ofLesotho. Recorded and annotated by BillWood. Smithsonian/Folkways 4224.Radio Freedom: Voice oftheAfrican National Con-gress and the People's Army Umkhonto We Sizwe.Rounder Records 4019.South Africa)! Freedom Songs. Smithsonian/Folk-ways EP601.South African Trade Lhiion WorkerChoirs. RounderRecords 5020. cont. from page 63Civil Rights Movement, the .song has been a part ofmusical performances in a variety of struggles. As inother areas, professional musicians play important rolesby bringing (often arranged ) versions of local traditionsto wider, sometimes international, audiences. Manypeople not directly involved in a .struggle may hearabout it first through songs.Smithsonian/Folkways Records has issued two re-cordings in time for the Festival that deal with laborstruggles and union organizing: "Don't Mourn ? Or-ganize! Songs of Labor Songwriter Joe Hill" (SF40026)and Woody Guthrie's "Struggle" (SF40025). One of therichest areas of American protest music, union songshave a vast bibliography and discography.Struggles For PoliticalAutonomyThe political boundaries of modern natic^ns are veryoften shaped more by wars, treaties, and colonizationthan by cultural homogeneity. Most nations todaycontain many different cultural or ethnic groups withintheir borders. Ethnic strife in Ireland, the USSR,Ea.stern Europe, and the United States provideexamples of the difficulties states have in dealing withculturally different populations within a single state.The heterogeneity of modern states has led to tworelated social processes that have both used music: 1)the forging of a "national identity" out of (or over) avariety of local identities and 2) the creation andmaintenance of local identities in the face of a (forged)national identity that does not usually recognize localdifferences.Faced with heterogeneous populations and thenecessity of defending political btjrders. many nationshave "created traditions" to establish a national unity (see Hobsbawm and Ranger 1983). The traditions mayinclude national songs (national anthems are such aform), national dress composed of an amalgamation ofregional dre.ss forms, and a national identity based on avariety of .symbolic forms such as celebrations ofindependence, the birthdays of heroes, and storiesabout the founding of the state that establish its identityas a nation and downplay regional differences andconflicts.While national in.stitutions create their own sense oftradition, groups within the nation often struggle toassert a degree of autonomy. This is often done throughlanguage, dress, religious affiliation, and music. Thecontroversies over whether schools should be underlocal control, whether English should be the sole U.S.national language and the square dance the official U.S.national dance, and other issues of ethnic identity raiseissues here in the United States that are similar to thosebeing raised in Eastern Europe. African Americans,Polish Americans, Hispanics, American Indians, andmany other groups have asserted cultural autonomy byperpetuating particular secular and religious traditionsthrough music.Several performers at the Festival ofAmerican Folkliferepresent regional populations that are struggling for anindependent identity within states largely controlled bymembers of other groups. These include the Kurds andthe Palestinians, among many others that might haveappeared.Political IssuesParticipants in political conflicts have long usedsongs to spread their messages and to create unityamong their compatriots. Recent examples include themovement against the Vietnam war in the 1960s, thecont. page 69 66 U.S. Civil Rights MovementJacqiieli)! C. Peters In the early 1950s the continuing struggle of Afri-can Americans for basic human rights was directedtoward winning crucial liberties long denied them?a good education and the vote. The NAACP .soughtto challenge the laws limiting educational opportuni-ties by enlisting the legal strategies of African Ameri-can attorneys such as the late Wiley Branton, whowas to become Dean of the Howard Universiry LawSchool, and Thurgood Marshall, currently a ChiefJustice on the U.S. Supreme Court. The U.S. SupremeCourt's Brown vs. Board of Education decisionrendered in 1954 cited the sociological and psycho-logical findings of Dr. Kenneth Clark and others whomaintained that the Plessy vs. Ferguson "separate butequal" doctrine instituted in 1896 was harmful to bothBlack and White students. The justices ordered in1955 that all children be admitted to tax-supportedpublic schools "on a racially non-discriminatory basiswith all deliberate speed."Close on the heels of the Brown decision came aseries of events which jolted the Civil Rights Move-ment into the nation's consciousness. Mrs, RosaParks' arrest for violating the bus segregation ordi-nance in Montgomery, Alabama, sparked theMontgomery Bus Boycott on December 5, 1955, fourdays after her detention. Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.,then 26 years old, was elected president of theMontgomery' Improvement Association, the organi-zation which organized the boycott. It took 386 days,but the city officials were finally convinced that inte-gration of the buses was crucial to their economichealth, and the bus boycott was discontinued. Threeweeks later, the Southern Christian Leadership Con-ference (SCLC) was founded with Dr. King as presi-dent, and the forces that would guide his destiny asa charismatic leader and a national hero gained mo-mentum.When four black college students .staged the firstsit-in on February 1, 1960 at a Woolworth's lunchcounter in Greensboro, North Carolina, a wave ofsimilar student protests followed, sweeping the DeepSouth. The Student Nonviolent Coordinating Com-mittee (SNCC), which provided many "foot soldiers"in the desegregation and voter registration efforts.wasfounded at Shaw University on April 15, I960. James Farmer of the Congress of Racial Equality(CORE) led the Freedom Riders on a Greyhound busfrom Washington, D.C. on a perilous journey throughAlabama and Mississippi. On "Bloody Sunday,"March 7 1965 the nation witnessed on television theassault of hundreds ot peaceful demonstrators by Spinls iiiv /ijy/i III Ihi-. c in/ n^iihh nil/v in mi .Uulhiiiuichurch FtVCllnlll '.nHi;s sirciij^lhciicl Ihc ICnllV nj llnll-nnlt'll/denioiistnitiiis. iihn iivrc piv/kirrJ hi ciumnilcr lici\cciilioiiand imprisunmi'iil (Phulii hyJue .-ilpcr. coiinesy Dr BennceJohnson Reagon)Alabama state troopers. One week later, theJohnsonadministration presented a voting rights bill beforeCongress. On August 6, 1965, President Lyndon B.Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act.Song and eloquent oratory are integral to AfricanAmerican religious expression, and they were perva-sive, spiritually sustaining elements of the U.S. CivilRights Movement. In emotionally tense or physicallythreatening situations, the standard of non-violenceand a serene attitude were maintained through song,prayer, and words of encouragement. Massivechurch rallies, picketing demonstrations and even jailhouses echoed with the sounds of resolve, declaring, "Just like a tree standing by the water,/ We shall notbe moved."Sacred African American music provided the basisfor many freedom songs. One such spiritual, "I WillBe All Right," has evolved to become the universalanthem of protest, "We Shall Overcome." Tech-niques such as call and response, "worrying the line"(using melismatic vocal embellishments), or "liningout" a hymn (the song leader's singing or reciting thenext line of verse before the end of the previous one ) 67 are other retentions from traditional African Ameri-can song.Important contributions to tiie repertory of free-dom songs were made by composers wiiose musicsprang out of the Movement. The gifted BerthaGober, one of the most prolific composers, some-times received her inspirations while actively in-volved in demonstrations or while sitting in a jail cell;memories of those who were martyrs for the move-ment also provided histories for Ms. Gober and manyothers to put to music. Social contexts were estab-lished in song lyrics by naming the protagonists,antagonists, or locations where conflict was intense.Grounded in the tradition of Black congregationalsong, choral quartets and ensembles transmitted theMovement's musical message to audiences far fromthe locale of the stmggle. The Montgomery GospelTrio, the American Baptist Theological SeminaryQuartet ? also known as the Nashville Quartet ?and the CORE Singers proved to be solid songleadinggroups.Nationwide support was garnered forSKCC throughthe works of four singers; Rutha Harris, BerniceJohnson, Charles Neblett, and Cordell Reagon, whoorganized the group known as the original SNCCFreedom Singers. Reagon delivered most of theinterpretive information in performances which madethe world sit up and take notice. Two otherconfigurations of this group emerged; another groupof Freedom Singers, followed by the Freedom Voices.This year's music stage features the original SNCCFreedom Singers with Ms. Bettie Mae Pikes standingin, as she has in the past, for Dr. Bernice JohnsonReagon. Ms. Fikes, originally of Selma. Alabama,is known as one of the strongest song leaders ofthe Civil Rights Movement. CITATIONS AND FURTHER READINGSCarawan, Guy and Candi, recorders and editors.1989. Ain't you Got a Right to the Tree of Life: ThePeople offohns Island. South Carolina, Their Faces,Their Words and TIjeir Songs. Athens: University ofGeorgia Press. . 1990. Sing For Freedom.Bethlehem, PA: Sing Out!Franklin, John Hope and August Meier, eds. 1982.Black Leaders of the Twentieth Century. Urbana;University of Illinois Press.Garrow. DavidJ. 1986. Bearing the Cross: MartinLuther King, fr. and the Southern Christian Leader-ship Conference. New York: William Morrow. Hickerson.JosephC, compiler. 1974. A Brief Listof Material Relating to Freedom Songs of the CivilRights Movement. Washington, D.C; Archive ofFolk Culture, Library of Congress.Ploski, Harry and James Williams, eds. 1989. TheNegro Almanac: A Reference Work on the AfricanAmerican. New York; Gale Research, Inc.Reagon, Bernice. 1987. Let the Church Sing "Freedom". Black Music Research Journal 7. , in collaboration with Dr. DorisMcGinty. 1980. Liner notes for Voices of the CivilRightsMovement. Smithsonian Collection of Record-ings R023.The Words of Martin Luther King. Jr. 1984. Se-lected by Coretta Scott King. New York; NewmarketPress.Walker, Wyatt T. 1979. Somebody's Calling MyName: Black SacredMusicandSocialChange. ValleyForge, PA; Judson Press.Williams, Juan. 1986. Eyes on the Prize: America 'sCivil Rights Years: 1954-1965. New York; VikingPress. SUGGESTED LISTENINGBeen in the Storm So Long. Smithsonian/FolkwaysSF 40031.Voices ofthe Civil Rights Movement: Black Ameri-can Freedom Songs. 1960-1965. Smithsonian Collec-tion of Recordings R023.SingforFreedom. Smithsonian Folkways SF 40032. Singingfreedom songs, marchers led by Stevie Wonderbraved the elements in Washington. D.C. everyJanuary 15thuntil Congress passed a hill making Dr. Martin Luther King.Jr s birthday a legal holiday in 1983. (Photo by SharonFarmer) cont. from page 66songs of soldiers who served in Vietnam, the oppositionto nuclear power in the 1970s and 1980s, the Feministmovement, and the Latin American popular politicalmusic Nueva Cancion, among many others. The UnitedStates can boast of a long history of political songs, fromthe early 19th century up to the present. From Jeffersonthrough Gerald Ford, with some notable examples fromthe Roosevelt years, political songs were published innewspapers and had the kind of exposure we nowassociate with mass media. The songs themselves werea direct expression of attempts to sway public opinionand votes by creating positive images of the candidatesand supporting their policies (Folkways Records hasseveral recordings of political songs from different eras).Many songs of the Civil Rights Movement were basedon African American church music. Some, like "WeShall Overcome" were only slightly altered hymnsfamiliar to many of the participants. The performancestyle, audience participation, and importance of musicin the Civil Rights Movement owed a great deal to theAfrican American churches from which were derivedmuch of the movement's organization and power, andalso to the kind of mass actions in which the movementwas engaged. Although the Civil Rights Movementadopted a doctrine of non-violent mass protest fromGandhi's non-violent independence movement in In-dia, the Indian movement itself was not a particulariymusical one. Church music was a cultural resourceavailable in the U.S. Civil Rights Movement that was notavailable in multi-ethnic India.ConclusionMusical performances can be a part of social move-ments in a number of different ways. From markedsilence through the revival of old musical forms to thecomposition of new genres, musical performances haveboth expressed and created feelings of community,have defined central concerns and aspirations, knitsmall communities together and projected messages tolarge international audiences. Music can be an effectiveresource for social movements because of the variety ofways it can be used? with subtlety or bluntness? andits ability to be heard in spite of censorship. Forged,transformed, and even abandoned in the crucible ofstruggle, music is part of the complex web of soundsand signs with which we experience and make history. Greenway book is a classic; and Sing Out! magazineprovides the words and music to many contemporarysongs. Denisoff, R. Serge. 1973. Songs ofProtest, War andPeace: A Bibliography and Discograpby. Santa Barbara:ABC-Clio.Denselow, Robin. 19S9. When the Music's Over:ne Stoiy cfPolitical Pop. London & Boston: FaberandFaber.Elbourne. Roger. 1980. Music afid Tradition in EarlyIndustrial Lancashire 1 780-1840. The Folklore SocietyMistletoe Series. Suffolk: D.S. Brewer; Totowa, NJ:Roman and Littlefield.Green, Archie. 1972. Only a Miner Urbana:Liniversity of Illinois Press.Greenway. John. 1953- Anwricau Folksongs ofProtest. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.Hobsbawm, Eric and Terence Ranger. 1983. TheIiwention ofTradition. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-sity Press.Rousseau. Jean-Jacques. 1975 [1779]. A CompleteDictionaiy ofMusic. Reprint of the 1779 edition. New ^'ork: AMS Press.Seeger, Pete. 1972. 'Ihe Incompleat Folksinger.Edited by Jo Metcalf Schwartz. New York: Simon &Schuster.Suggested ListeningA complete list of over 50 Folkways recordingsrelated to this theme is available from the Office ofFolklife Programs. The following are faidy easilyavailable examples of a large discography:Come All You Coal Miners. Rounder Records 4005.Doji't Mourn - Organize.' Songs ofLabor SongwriterJoe Hill. Smithsonian/Folkways Records 40026.Sheshwe: Tlje Sound ofIhe Mi)ies. Rounder Records5031.Sing For Freedom. Smithsonian/Folkways Records40032.Rebel Voices. Songs of the hidustrial Workeis of theWorld. Flying Fish 484.So)jgs ofStruggle and Celebrati(?i by Guy Carawan.Flying Fish 27272.Woody Guthrie: Struggle. Smithsonian/FolkwaysRecords 40025. Citations and Further ReadingsHere are just a few references. The Denisoff bibliog-raphy is a good guide to the older sources; Pete Seeger'sbook includes many observations of a participant in anumber of social movements; Elbourne's book is thebest historical study of music I have run across; the 69 Israelis and PalestiniansAmy Horowitz Amy Horowitz, a Ph.D. candidate iti Folklore at the University ofPennsylvania, received agrantfrom the D.C. Community Humanities Council in 1986 to dofive radio shows on culturein disputed territoriesfeaturing IsraeliandPalestinianprotest artists. Amy has workedforSweetHoney in the Rock since 1977 as artist representative. Situated at the crossroad of East and West, theMiddle East has been the site ofstaiggle for miUenium.For over 3,000 years, the land between the Mediter-ranean, the Jordan River and beyond, which nowoccupies the center of controversy for Israelis, Pales-tinians, Arabs and Jews has been called by manynames, claimed by many peoples and occupied bycountless foreign rulers. Many Israelis date theirclaim back to the Hebrew Kingdoms of Israel andJudea(722B.C. -70A.D.)and even beyond. Pales-tinians point to indige-nous inhabitants living inthe area throughout his-tory as well as a continu-ous Muslim majority sincethe 7th century A.D.In the 19th century,during Ottoman Rule(1500-1917 A.D.), Euro-pean nationalism beganto capture the imagina-tion of peoples through-out the world. This trendhad a strong influence onboth Arabs and Jews. Var-ious Arab national move-ments emerged in response to occupation under theOttomans. When the empire was divided up afterWorld War I, Arab nationalists resisted Europeandominance and sought to create a unified Arab worldunder the banner of the Arabic language and acommon regional heritage. For European Jewry, thenationalistic trend emerged in the form of Zionismcalling for a return to their Biblical homeland. Theyhoped that in their historical birthplace self-determi-nation would replace centuries of exile and victimi-zation.These two incompatible movements clashed dur-ing the British occupation of Palestine (1917-1948). VxjusiiDils aiii:iition-. in the Occu-pii;l Icrniciie^ Vie agenda uas peai.e/nl L!to es Re-belde. , 1990. Rucanchij Taqui. . 1990. Pinay Taqui.. Joe Hill: Union OrganizingSome of the most famous songs of struggle in theUnited States were written during labor conflicts fromthe mid 19th century up to the present.Joe Hill (1879-1915) was a songwriter for the Indus-trial Workers of the World (I.W.W.), a radical movementin the early 20th century committed to the formation ofa worldwide workers' organization: One Big Union.His songs described struggles with strikebreakers ( "CaseyJones ? The Union Scab"), the plight of the homelessand unemployed ("The Tramp"), the economic base ofprostitution ("The White Slave"), and charity organiza-tions that help support an oppressive status quo ("ThePreacher and the Slave"). His execution in Utah onNovember 19, 1915, for murder, a charge his supportersconsidered a class-oriented conspiracy, raised Joe Hillto powerfi.ll symbolic status within the labor movement.Many songs and poems were subsequently writtenabout him, among them, "Joe Hill," "Joe Hill's Ashes,"and "Joe Hill Listens to the Praying." Both as a song-writer and as the subject of songs, Joe Hill continues tobe an important figure in United States labor history.In a letter to the editor of the I.W.W. newspaperSolidarity, from the Salt Lake County Jail, Joe Hill toldwhy he wrote songs as tools for organizing:A pamphlet, no matter how good, is never read morethan once, but a song is learned by heart andrepeated over and over; and I maintain that if a per-son can put a few cold, common sense facts into asong, and dress them up in a cloak of humor to takethe dryness off of them, he will succeed in reaching a great number of workers who are too unintelligentor too indifferent to read a pamphlet or an editorialon economic science.There is one thing that is necessary in order to holdthe old members and to get the would-be membersinterested in the class struggle and that is entertain-ment. November 29, 1914.Seventy-five years after his death, the name Joe Hillis not as widely known as his influence is felt. But JoeHill remains an inspiration and a model for many song-writers and performers who organize through music.Smithsonian/Folkways Records, in conjunction withthe 1990 Festival of American Folklife and the Joe HillOrganizing Committee of Salt Lake City, Utah, hasissued an album of songs by and about Joe Hill thatillustrates his skill as a songwriter and shows hisinfluence on the international labor movement: Don'tMourn? Organize! Songs ofLabor Songwriter foe Hill(SF 40026, available on CD, LP and cassette). Anthony Seeger is curator ofthe Folkivays Collectionand Director ofFolkways Records in the Office ofFolklifePrograms. He teas previously employed at the MiiseuNacional in Rio dejafieiro (1975-1982) and IndianaUniversity (1982-1988). Anthropologist, ethnomusi-cologist and archivist, Dr. Seeger is the author of threehooks and many articles on the social organization,cosmology and musicalperformances ofthe Suyd Indi-ans ofBrazil. He was exposed to musics ofstrugglefromearly childhood and hasperformed them as part of hisparticipation in a number ofsocialprocesses. 75 'The Troubles" in IrelandJacqiieli)i C. Peters Tis Ireland, my comilry. the hirlhpkice of heroes.The home of the patriot, ucirrior ami sage.Of bards and of chieftains, whose names lire instory,May they liveforever, on hi^loiy's page.You once were a proud and glorious nation.Yournameand yourfame were kuow)i all over ibeworld, 'Til misfortune came o 'eryou and sad desolation.Your moral banner in slarery lav unfurled,(excerpt from "My Own Native Land" a tradi-tional song) "The troubles" is the eupliemism used in Irelandto refer to the host of prob-lems attending the conflictover British presence inthat land. Irish history pro-vides ample themes formusic of struggle sung inthe scan-nos ("old") style.There is much historicalcommentary on politics,persecution and the loveand longing for the land;but there is also a wealth oicontemporary expressionsthat address the tragediesofoccupation and civil war,the loss of family mem-bers, and the corruption ofchildhood innocence.The old repertory, neverabandoned and therefore never subjected to a "re-vival," provides historical context for the new songsthat chronicle current events destined to become partof traditional lore.Musicians who compose and perform traditionalIrish songs of struggle include Paddy Tunney, a mas-terful singer and participant at the 1976 Festival ofAmerican Folklife; Tommy Sands, renown song-writer who expresses reconciliatory themes; DermotHenry, a singer of "rebel songs" now residing in NewYork; and Cathie Ryan-Henry, also based in NewYork and possessed of an excellent voice and trainedby her parents in the old style. Composer Christy Tnulilional Insb inusiL and dance uviv pcijuniwd at iibenefit concert in .\etr York City in Fehniaiy. 1990 Performin,i>are (left to right): Myron Brelholz? lx)dliran (Irishi dnim).MarkSimos? guitar. Jerry O'Sidlivan? uillcan pi^e5, SeamiisConnolly? fiddle. James Keane? Irish accordion. (Photo by .Sarah Towle) Moore, whose reputation in Ireland is comparable tothat oi the late Woody Guthrie in America, haswritten a wealth of .songs on many social issues.Frank Harte, the All-Ireland Champion singer fromChapelizod in Dublin, has a repertory of over 8,000songs. Son of a "pub" proprietor and an architect byprofession, Mr. Harte was introduced to traditionalIrish songs by a fateful encounter with a man sellingsheet music at a fair. This began a life-long passionfor collecting .songs and for the culture that goes withthem.CITATIONS AND FURTHER READINGSCoi^derv', James R. 1990. Tlje Melodic Tradition (fIreland. Kent: The KentState University Press.Ireland. 1985. The NewT) Ic]'dopedia Brita ini ica.6:378-382.Kelly, K. 1982. 'TheLongest War- Northern Ire-land and the IRA. Dingle,Westport and London.Moore, Christy. 1984.The Christy Moore Song-hook. Dover, New Hamp-shire: Brandon Book Pub-lishers.Harte, Frank, ed. (Inpress). Songs of Dul)lin.Cork, Ireland: Ossian Pub-lishers.SUGGESTED IISTENINGHarte, Frank. Daybreak and a Candle-End.SPIN 99S. . And Listen to My Song. SPIN994.Men of No Property. Ireland: We FinalStruggle Paredon P 1039.Moloney, Mick, Robbie O'Connell iS; JimmyKeane. Kilkelly. Green Linnet Records CSIF 1072.Moloney, Mick, Jimmy Keane, RobbieO'Connell, and Liz Carroll. There Were Roses.Green Linnet Records CSIF 1057. 76 Chicano Farm Workers' Movement JaccjiiL'iiii C. Peters The San Joaquin Valley of California is a majoragricultural center. Its abundant harvests are enjoyedby many Americans unaware of the substandardworking and living conditions endured by migrantworkers who gather the crops. The many undocu-mented immigrants from Mexico included in theranks of the farmworkers refrained from complainingand risking arrest and deportation. The children ofthese farmworkers were caught in a situation inwhich they could not get an adequate education, ifthey went to school at all; they were destined toremain in a cycle of poverty which their parents hadcome to America to escape.This situation prompted the campaign to organizethe workers and the strike headed by Ceasar Chavezof the United Farmworkers of America in the 1960s.Americans were informed about the plight of theseworkers and were urged to boycott California pro-duce until employers of migrant workers providedbetter living and working conditions. The beginningof the strike was depressing to the workers. Picket-ing families faced having even fewer resources tosupport themselves. Ramon "Chunky" Sanchez ofthe music group, Los Alacranes, related how he, hisbrother and a few other musicians brought their gui-tars with them to the picket lines one day and playedold tunes to cheer up their fellow strikers. Seeing therousing effect music had, they decided to bring theirinstalments every day, but they soon tired of playingthe same songs. This led to their improvising lyricsabout the boycott.The Valdez Brothers ? Luis and Daniel ? co-founded El Teatro Campesino with Agustin Lira dur-ing the Great Delano Grape Strike in 1965. Togetherthey led the artistic component of the farmworkers'movement, writing songs and plays about the boy-cott, and winning the Off Broadway "Obie" award for "creating a worker's theatre to demonstrate the poli-tics of survival. " Lira, a featured artist at this year's Festival, was born of migrant farmworkers in Torreon Coahuila,Mexico, spending his first years in Torreon, Juarez,Texas and New Mexico. By the time he was seven,his family had settled in the San Joaquin Valley. Hiseariy education took place on the migrant path, andformal musical training began in high school, .^fterleaving El Teatro Campesino in 1969, Lira took anindependent direction. He established four othertheater groups before El Teatro de la Tierra, which hebegan in East Los Angeles and incorporated later inrural Fresno, California in 1974. Together with hisgroup. Alma, Lira presents the stcjry of the Chicanoexperience in song and narrative.CITATIONS AND FURTHER READINGSLevy, Jack. 197S. Ceasar Chcwez: AutobiographyofLa Causa. New \brk: 'W. 'W. Norton & Co.Ross, Fred. 1990. Conquering the Lioir Keene,CA: United Farmworkers of America.SUGGESTED LISTENINGLos Alacranes. Picando. Alacran Publishing 1989.El Teatro Campesino. Hiielga En General! Songsof the United Farm Workers. El Centro CampesinoCultural TC 1352. Jacquelin Celeste Peters was an Aiis Adiiiiiiistra-tion Fellowfor the National Endowmentfor the Arts,and has served as an evaliialorfor NEA s Folk Artsand Expansion Arts programs. She is a consultantscholarforthe D.C. CommunityHumanities Council,and compiled the premier edition of the Africa)!American FolkloristsDirecloiy "forthe Office ofFolklifePrograms.As an indepoideni radio producer she receivedgrantsfrom NEA andfrom National Public Radio'sSatellite Program Development Fund to produceprograms on popular African music. 77 1990 festival ofAmerican folklifeJUNE 27-JULY 1/JULY4-JULY 8 Smithsonian Institution/National Park Service GeneralInformation Festival HoursOpening ceremonies for the Festi-val will be held on the Main MusicStage in the Musics of Struggle area at11:00 a.m. Wednesday, June 27th.Thereafter, Festival hours will be11:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. daily, withdance parties every evening 5:30 to7:00 p.m., except July 4th.HORARIO DEL FESTIVALLa ceremonia de apertura al Festi-val se celebrara en el escenario delPrograma de "Musics of Struggle," el27 de junio a las 11:00 A.M. A partirde ese dia, las horas del Festival serande 11:00 a.m. a las 5:30 p.m. diari-amente, con baile cada noche, ex-cepto el 4 de julio, de 5:30 p.m. a 7:00P.M.HoRAiRE Du FestivalLes ceremoniesd'ouverture du Fes-tival auront lieu sur la scene musicaleprincipale de "Musics of Struggle," allh., mercredi, le 27 juin. Apres cela,les heures du Festival seront de llh. a17h.30 chaque jour, avec des soireesdan.santes de 17h.30 a 19h., sauf le 4juillet.SalesTraditional food from Senegal andthe U.S. Virgin Islands and traditionalMemphis bar-b-que will be sold. Seethe site map for locations.A variety' of crafts, books andSmithsonian/Folkways Records relat-ing to the 1990 Festival programs willbe sold in Museum Shops areas onthe Festival site.PressVisiting members of the pressshould register at the Festival Presstent on the Mall near Madison Driveand 12th Street.First AidA first aid station will be availablenear the Administration area on the Mall. The Health Units in the Muse-ums of American History and NaturalHistory are open from 10:00 a.m. to5:30 p.m.Primeros AuxiliosUna unidad de primeros auxilios seinstalara cerca del area de la Adminis-tracion. Las unidades de salud en losmuseos de Historia Norteamericana yde Historia Natural estaran abiertosdesde las 10:00 a.m.hasta las 5:30 p.m.POSTES DE SeCOURSUne unite mobile des postes desecours sera situee pres deI'Administration. Les services de santedes Musee de I'Histoire America ine etI'Histoire Naturelle sont ouverts dclOh. a 17h.30.Rest Rooms/TelephonesThere are outdoor facilities for thepublic and disabled visitors locatednear all of the program areas on theMall. Additional rest room facilitiesare available in each of the museumbuildings during visiting hours.Public telephones are available onthe site, opposite the Museums ofAmerican History and Natural History,and inside the Museums.Lost and Found/LostChildren and ParentsLost items may be turned in orretrieved at the Volunteer tent in theAdministration area. Lost family mem-bers may be claimed at the Volunteertent also.Personas y ObjetosPerdidoLas personas que hayan perdido asus ninos o a familiares pueden pasarpor la carpa para voluntarios, en elarea de la Administracion por ellos.Los objetos encontrados o extraviadospodran entregarse o reclamarse endicha carpa.Objet Perdus/Personnes PerduesLes objets trouves ou perdus peu-vent etre remis ou reclames a la tente des volontaires. Si un membre defamille est perdu, veuillez vousadresser a la tente des volontaires.Metro StationsMetro trains will be running everyday of the Festival. The Festival site iseasily accessible to either the Smith-sonian or Federal Triangle stations onthe Blue and Orange lines.Services for DisabledVisitorsTwo sign-language interpreters areon site every day at the Festival.Check the printed schedule and signsfor interpreted programs. Oral inter-preters are available for individuals ifa request is made three full days inadvance. Call (202) 357-1696 (TDD)or (202) 357-1697 (voice). An audio-loop amplification system for peoplewho are hard of hearing is installed atthe Music Stage of the Musics ofStruggle area.Large-print copies of the dailyschedule and audiocassette versionsof the program book and schedule areavailable free of charge at Festival in-formation kiosks and the Volunteerlent.Wheelchairs are available at theFestival Volunteer tent. Volunteersare on call to a.ssi.st wheelchair usersand to guide visually handicappedvisitors. There are a few designatedparking spaces for disabled visitorsalong both Mall drives. These spaceshave three hour time restrictions.Evening Dance PartiesMusical groups playing traditionaldance music will perform every eve-ning, 5:30-7:00 p.m., except July 4th,at the Music Stage in the Musics ofStruggle area.Program BookBackground information on thecultural traditions of Senegal, thefolklife of the U.S. Virgin Islands andMusics of Struggle is available in theFestival ofAmerican Folklife ProgramBook, on sale for $2.00 at the Festivalsite or by mail from the Office ofFolklife Programs, Smithsonian Institu-tion, 955 UEnfant Plaza, S.W., Suite2600, Washington, D.C. 20560. Participants in the 1990Festival oe Americanfolkliee United StatesVirgin IslandsPerformance TraditionsBlinkv 6- ne Rnadmasters - ScratchBandAnselmo Clarke, squash -Frederiksted, St. CroLxNorman Edwards, trap drums -Frederiksted, St. CroixMilton "Meg" Gordon, bass guitar -Frederiksted, St. CroLxIsidor "I.G." Griles, triangle -Frederiksted, St. CroixCyprian "Zip" King, guitar - Kingshill,St. CroixSylvester "Blinky" Mcintosh Sr., altosaxophone - Frederiksted,St. CroixIra "Baker/Dormis ' Samuel, alto saxo-phone - Frederiksted, St. CroixLloyd "Perico" Thomas, conga -Frederiksted, St. CroixCalypsouiausKenneth "Lord Blakie" Blake, calypso/composer - St. ThomasAshley "Ashanti" George, calypso/agriculturist - St. ThomasCamille "King Derby" Macedon Jr.,banjo uke - St. CroLxCariso SingersEthel Mcintosh - St. CroixLeona Watson - Frederik,sted, St. CroixCarnival TraditionsCecile "Dallars" George, diumming/carpentry - St. ThomasWillard John, inokojumbie -Frederik.sted, St. Croix Clement Cain Magras, stoiytelling -St. ThomasJohn McCleverty, moko jttmhie -St. ThomasMilo O O (^ collecting/V? ^ 1 ?-CD?PRESS ! |?(5)VOLUNTEER n MUSIC STAGE MUSEUM SALESM.Musics of Struggle METRO M 1 SMITHSONIAN(The Mall) FOLKLORE INSTITUTE [ )iU. .n Sackler African ArtGallery Museum Festival Site Map U.S. Virgin Islandsr^L^ LEARNING CENTER Madison Drive @ CRAFTS DANCE HALL ISCARNIVAL CRAFTS STORY TELLINGS^E BIG YARDFOOD WAYS OGAMES Festival Staff Acting Director, Office ofFolklife Pro-grams: Richard KurinFestival Director: Diana ParkerActing Administrative Officer:Barbara StricklandProgram Book Editor: Peter SeitelSign Editor: Thomas Vennum, Jr.Designer: Carol HardyDesign Advisor: Daphne ShuttlewoithAssistant Designers: JenniferNicholson, Suzanne Segalla, AndrasGoldingerCalligrapbers: Susan Auerhan, AllynKurinPublication Review: Arlene L.ReinigerTechnical Coordinator: FredNahwooksy, Jr.Technical Specialists: Lisa Fricano,Connie LaneTechnical Crew Chiefs: Linley Logan,Lisa OgonowskiLead Carpenter: Kevin MutchlerTechnical Crew: Arthur Brown, JohnLowery, Terrance Meniefield,Yancy Redcorn, Holly WrightCreiv Assistant: Ellen GarrettTechnical Crew Clerk/Typists: RoryBrennan, Cecilia CoatsSupply Coordinator: Doris DietrichAssistant Supply Coordinator: NelsonAntoniukLogistics Coordinator: DorothyNeumannSound Production Coordinator: TimKidwellSound Technicians: Eric Annis, SteveEdwards, Steve Fischer, GreggLamping, Jens McVoy, Liston Mon-santo, Moira SheaStage Managers: Enrique Aviles, NeilCarrington, Mathieu Chabert, TomGartland, John Kemper, Susan Levi-tas, Al McKenney, John Milcharik,Ed WilliamsSubstitute Engineer: Dean LangwellSound Creiv: Andrew Finkle, ChuckPeters, Barney VableActing Festival Services Manager-Claudia TellihoFiscal Technician: Claude SteinbergClerk/Typist: Minu TahmassebiParticipant Coordinator: CilistaEberleAssistant Participant Coordinators:Hope Connors, Marjorie Copson,Yulette GeorgeHousing Coordinator: John LeahyConcessions Coordinator: SusanFowler Information/Accessibility Coordinator:Betty BelanusInterns: Lisa Fisher, Jean MitchellSign Language Interpreters: JeanLindquist, Diane Mele-Beaudoin.Hank YoungVolunteer Coordinator: CarolineCleavesAssistant Volunteer Coordinator: DanBurgessChief Volunteers: Wilette Carlton,Mary Cliff, Priscilla Flowers,Marilyn Gaston, J.R. Glover,Virginia McCauley, Sokhna N'Doye,Johari Rashad, Martin Snyderman,Neville WatersFolkways Recordings Director:Anthony SeegerDocumentation Coordinator: JeffPlaceLntems: Doug Bell, Robert ForemanVideo Documentation: DaphneShuttleworthPhotographers: Richard Hofmeister,Eric Long, Laurie Minor, DanePenland, Richard Strauss, JeffTinsley, Rick VargasSpecial Events Coordinator MariaParisiPublic Information: Mary Combs,Katherine KirlinIntern: Lou Ann ReedU.S. Virgin IslandsProgram Curator: Olivia CadavalU.S. Virgin Islands Supervisor- FloraBoynes-SpencerU.S. Virgin Islands Coordinator- AnnaMae Brown-CommentSt. Croix Liaison: Claire RokerProgram Coordinator- Betz RobbProgram Assistant: Larry LarsenFestival Aide: Sekou RichardsonLearning Center Coordinator:Catherine Hiebert-KerstCrafts Coordinator: Andrew ConnorsBig Yard Area Coordinator: LidyaMontesBig Yard Stage Coordinator Celia HeilInterns: Guylene Desir, RhondaGreen, Carla Mendiola, PaulaTassaraU.S. Virgin Islands National ParkServiceAssistant Coordinators: JacquelynClendinen, Denise GeorgesGeneral Advisor and Researcher:Gilbert SprauveFieldtvorkers: Edna Mae Belardo, Vio-let Bough, Janet Burton, BrentCantrell, Andromeda Childs, Bra-dley Christian, JacquelynClendinen, Glenn "Kwabena" Davis, Delta Dorsch, AnastasiaDoward, Cassandra Dunn, DorothyElskoe, Gene Emanuel, LorelieEsannason, Denise Georges, LoisHassell-Habteyes, CatherineHiebert-Kerst, Myron Jackson,Stanley Jacobs, Ruth Moolenaar,Mario Picayo, Leslie Reovan.Verne Richards, Eulalie Rivera,Jewel Ross Sage, Karen Samuel,Daniel Sheehy, Mary Jane Soule,Maurice Thomas, Rufus Vander-pool, Leona Brady WatsonPresenters: Violet Bough, Irvin "Brownie" Brown, Leona Bryant,Janet Burton, Bradley Christian, An-drew Connors, Delta Dorsch,Anastasia Doward, Dorothy Elskoe,Gene Emanuel, Lois Hassell-Habteyes, Catherine Hiebert-Kerst,Myron Jackson, Ruth Moolenaar,Karen Samuel, Daniel Sheehy,Gilbert Sprauve, Rufus VanderpoolSenegalProgram Curator: Diana N'DiayeProgram Coordinators: Barbara Lau,Gorgui N'DiayeProgram Consultant: John Franklin, Jr.Foodways Coordinators: VirginiaMcCauley, Sokhna N'DoyeFestival Aide: Frank GaskinFieldworkers: Samba Demba Ba,Jean-Paul Thiar-Thiar Bidia, YayaLeonard Diatta, Amadou LamineDrame, Oumar Gueye, El HadjMalick M'Baye, Mour Paye,Mamadou Sane, Mame Fadoum SyPresenters: Abdou Rahmane Cisse,Aminata Gaskin, Samba Ka, MamaKonte, El Hadj Malick M'Baye,Aristedes Perrera, Salli DialloPetersenInterns: Robert Clyne, DerekKauneckisProgram Book Translator WinifredLambrechtMusics of StruggleProgram Curator- Jacquelin PetersProgram Consultant: Anthony SeegerProgram Assistant: Arlene L. ReinigerSong Collection Coordinator LoriTaylorFestival Aide: Daniel EasingtonPresenters: Barry Bergey, NahidaDajani, Amy Horowitz, MerhdadIzady, Worth Long, Mick Moloney,Menzi Plaatje, Maria Isabel PrietoTranslators: Celia Heil, SuzanneHolderInterns: Caroline Cohen, MandisaMaya Folklore SummerInstitute Important folklore research andpresentation in the United States areoften carried out by local researchersand community-based scholars, manywithout formal academic training.The Folklore Summer Institute forCommunity Scholars (July 2-16), nowin its second year, is intended to rec-ognize and encourage these localfolklorists, to enhance their skills, andto establish contact with folklorescholars and professionals. This program is made possible bysupportfrom the Smithsonian Educa-tional Outreach Fund, the L.J. Skaggsand Man' C. Skaggs Foundation, theRuth Matt Fund, the American Folk-lore Society. Indiana University,Rutgers University and the PolaroidFoundation. Betty Belanus, DirectorKamran Asdar Ali, CoordinatorCynthia Thorn, InternRina Deth, Intern FacultyCharies Camp - Maryland Arts CouncilWilliam D. Chin - Chinatown HistoryProjectGerald Davis - Rutgers UniversitySusan Dyal - Santa Monica, CaliforniaVon Martin - Caribbeana ArtsKatherine Anne Phipps - Indiana Uni-versityNancy Sweezy - Refugee Arts GroupFellowsRoxana Adams - Ketchikan, AlaskaFleanor Arnold - Rushville, IndianaRichard Brown - Portland, OregonDebra S. Eatman - Eutaw, AlabamaJuan Gutierrez - New York, New YorkAlfred Yama Kina - Honolulu, HawaiiMarta Lagos - Detroit, MichiganGiang Le - Raleigh, North CarolinaAndi Owens - New York, New YorkAgnes Palanuk - Dickinson, NorthDakotaGary Tom - Cedar City, Utah Smithsonian BureauAND Office Support Office ofthe Secretary: Office ofthe Undersecretaiy Office of the Assistant SecretaryforPublic SetviceOffice of Elementary & SecondaryEducationLatino Working CommitteeOffice of Public AffairsVisitor Information & Associates' Re-ception Center Office of the Assistant SecretaiyforResearchDepartment of Anthropology, NationalMuseum of Natural HistoryOffice of Fellowships and GrantsOffice of Interdisciplinary StudiesOffice of Quincentenary ProgramsNational Zoological Park Office of the Assistant SecretaryforMuseumsAmerican Indian Program, NationalMuseum of American HistoryAfrican American Culaire Program,National Museum ofArnerican HistoryOffice of Exhibits CentralOffice of Horticulture Office of the Assistant SecretaiyforExternal AffairsOffice of Membership andDevelopmentOffice of Congressional RelationsOffice of International RelationsOffice of Special EventsOffice of Telecommunications Office of the Assistant Secretaryfor Ad-ministrationCommunications Management Divi-sion, Office of Information Re-source ManagementOffice of Design & ConstaictionDuplicating BranchHealth Services DivisionMail Service CenterOffice of Personnel AdministrationOffice of Planning and BudgetOffice of Plant ServicesOffice of Printing and PhotographicServicesOffice of Procurement and PropertyManagementOffice of Protection ServicesSecurity Services DivisionTravel Services Office Office of the Gener-al Counsel Office of the Inspector Gener-al Office of the TreasurerOffice of Accounting and FinancialServicesOffice of Risk ManagementOffice of Sponsored Projects Official BusinessPenalty for Private Use $300 No PostageNecessaryIf Mailed In TheUnited StatesBusiness Reply MailFirst Class Permit No 12915 Wasfimgton, D C Postage will be paid by Smithsonian InstitutionSMITHSONIAN INSTITUTIONOffice of Folklife Programs955 L'Enfant Plaza S.W , Suite 2600Washington, DC 20277-2915 I. .1,1 I.II...II.mI..I.II,I II, 1,1. ,1.1. 1 FOLKWAYS SMITHSONIANFOLKWAYSFolkways Records, founded by Moses Asch in 1947, was acquired by the Smithsonian Institution in 1987 to ensure that allthe recordings remain available as a service to scholars, musicians and the general public. Distribution of the nearly 2,200recordings is divided between mail order titles and those available in record stores. Many titles will be issued on CD; alltitles are available on high quality audio cassettes, with their original documentation, through theOffice of Folklife Programs. Recent reissues are listed below. For a complete catalogue of available titles,please write your address on the card below and mail it to usSmithsonian/FolkwaysRecordings Issued forThis Year's Festival:Don't Mourn - Organize! Songs oflabor songwriterJoe Hill Historicaland contemporary recordings of songsand poems by and about Joe Hillfeaturing: Billy Bragg, Hazel Dickens,Elizabeth Gurley Flynn, Joe Glazer,IWW Entertainment Workers lU 630,Si Kahn, Haywire Mac, Utah Phillips,Paul Robeson, Earl Robinson, PeteSeeger and others. (SF 40026, avail-able on CD, LP and cassette)Woody Guthrie - Struggle A reissueof Moses Asch's compilation ofWoody Guthrie's songs originallyissued for the United States Bicenten-nial in 1976. Woody Guthrie singssongs commemorating labor staigglesand the hard times of working peopleeverywhere. (SF 40025, available onCD, LP and cassette)Various recordings relating to Senegal,the Caribbean and Musics of Struggleare also available for purchase. The Folkways Vision -Three Related Record-ings Sold Individually:Folkways: A Vision Shared AGrammy Award winning benefit al-bum containing songs written by-Woody Guthrie and Huddie Ledbetter(Leadbelly) and interpreted by con-temporary musicians. Issued by CBSRecords.A Vision Shared A videotape includ-ing footage of the majority of the mu-sicians on the CBS album. Issued byColumbia Music Videos.Folkways: The Original Vision (SF40001) Contains the same songs as theCBS album, but in the original ver-sions recorded in the 1940's byWoody Guthrie and Leadbelly. Threenever before released cuts appear onthis album. All the new Smithsonian/Folkways issues, in addition to many other Folkwaystitles are available in the Museum Shops sales areas at the Festival site. Many arealso distributed through Rounder Records. If you are unable to find Folkwaysrecords at your local record store, write for a free catalogue and order forms to:Smithsonian/Folkways RecordingsOffice of Folklife Programs955 L'Enfant Plaza, Suite 2600Washington, D.C., 20560Please send me a catalogue of Folkways Records. I would like information onthe following kinds of recordings: n Name .Address Other Reissues andNew RELEASES:Recording issued for the 1988 Festivalof American Folklife: * * Musics of theSoviet Union (SF 40002)Recordings issued for the 1989 Festi-val of American Folklife: * Puerto Rican Music in Hawai'i:Kachi-Kachi (SF 40014) * Hula Daim Dance Chants: Musicand Power in Time (SF 40015) * Musics of Hawai'i (SF 40016)Other recordings: * The Country' Gentlemen: Countrysongs, old and new (SF 40004) * Cajun Social Music: Nathan Abshire,Mark Savoy, Hector Duhon and others(SF 40006) * Phil Ochs "The Broadside Tapes 1"(SF 40008) * Elizabeth Gotten: Freight Train andother North Carolina folk songs andaines (SF 40009) * Leadbelly Sings Folk Songs(SF 40010) * Brownie McGhee and Sonny TerrySing (SF 40011) * Tuva: Voices from the Center of Asia(SF 40017) * Big Bill Broonzy Sings Folk Songs(SF 40023) " Pete Seeger "Traditional ChristmasCarols" (SF 40024) * Been in the Storm So Long (SF40031) * Sing for Freedom (SF 40032) * Pete Seeger "Abiyoyo" (SF 45001) * Ella Jenkins "You'll Sing a Song and111 Sing a Song" (SF 45010) * Ella Jenkins "Adventures in Rhythm"(SF 45007) and many other Ella Jen-kins recordings. SmithsonianInstitutionSecrelaiy Robert .NkC AdamsUnder Sec ivtciryDean AndersonActing Assiskdit Sec reUiiyfor Pub-lic Seri'ice: James EarlyAssistant Stxretci ij for kcsccirch:Robert HoffmannAssistdiil SccivlaryJar MiiscHDisTom FrcLidenlicimAssistunt Sccn-tiiryfor lixlenuilAffairs: Thomas Lo\cioyAssistant Sccri'tary farhistitiilKDhil linluitiivs:Alice HtirnetteAssistant Secretary fur Ailnumstni - turn John [-', JamesonAssistcnil Secretary l-juerilusRalph Rin7lerOffice of FolklifeProgramsActnig Director Riehaixl KiirinAcliiiinistratiiv OfficerJewell l)ulane\Acting Aclniinislratiie ( )fficer-Barbara StritklaiulFeslncil Director: Diana ParkerSenior Folklorist: Peter SeitelCurator. Folkivays Records:Anthoin SeederSenior F.llnionnisicologist:Thomas Xenniim. JrDirector. (JnniceiileiiaryProjects: ( )li\ la ("adaxalProgram AnalystRichard KenneLh-Education .SpecialistBetty BelanusCurators: Diana N'Dia\e.Jacquelin PetersResearch Associates: Marjorie Hnnt,Ed O'Reilly. Frank Proschan.Nicholas Spit/erTechnical Coordinator ReavesFred Nahwooksy, Jr.Program Specialist:Arlene L. ReinigerActing Festival ServicesManager: Claudia TellihoDesig)ier: Daphne ShuttleworthArchivist: Jeffrey Place Folkways Program Specialist:Dudley ConnellQuincentenaiy A.Vista iN:Celia MeilFilm Fdilor (aiha .Shank.irAssistant Archivist:Fori TavlorAssistant to the Director ?Maria ParisiI'olkivays Assistant.Suzanne HolderClerk Typists: Lidya .VIontes. .\linu 'Fahmassebi Folklife Advisoiy Council: Roger .Abrahams. Richard Baiiman. HenrvClassic. Rayna Green. Johnti\\altne\. Charlotte Heth. .VdrienneKaeppler. han Karp. BerniceReagon. John Tchen. Carlos Velez-Ibane/National ParkService .Secretary of the InteriorManuel Fujan, Jr.Director )dmes M. RidenoLirRegional T)irector. .\atioiial CipitalRegion: Robert G. .StantonDeputy Regional Director.Sational Capital Region:Ronald WneAssociate Regional Director. I'lihlicAffairs Sandra A AllevChief. I lilted Slates ParkPolue Fynn HerringAssistant Chief I iiited States ParkPolice Robert F, FangstonComnuinder. Special Forces:Mai.Carl R. HolmbergSuperintendoit. SationalCapital Parks - Central.Arnold .M. GoldsteinChief Maintenance. XationalCapital Parks - Central:William F Newman. Ir. .V//(' .Manager Sational MallFe\>- KellyEmployees of the National C^aj^JitalRegion and the F'nited StatesPark Police ContributingSponsorsThe L'.S. \'irgin Islands prngrdmhas been made po.ssible b\' theOffice of the Governor, the LSthFegislature of the Virgin Islands,the Department of Economic De-\'elopment and Agriculture. Di\'i-sion of Tourism. Department ofPlanning and Natural Resources,the Virgin Islands Council on TheArts. Paradise Motors. Inc.. FittleSwitzerland. Virgin Islands .VF6iT,West Indian Compan\ Ftd. andother corporate sponsorsFhe .SV;/et;((/ program has beenmade possible, in part, by theOffice of the President of the Re-public of Senegal, the Ministiy ofCulture and Communication, theMinistrs' of Tourism and Environ-ment, the Senegalese Embassy tothe F'nited States, the AmericanEmbassy to Senegal, the AmericanCultural Center in Senegal. Cheikh .Anta Diop - Institut Fondamentalde l'Afric|ue Noire, and administra-tive authorities in Dakar and in the\arious regions of Senegal.Musics ofStruggle has been madepossible, in part, by the .MusicPerformance Frust Funds, theInter-American Foundation andthe Arab American Cultural Founda-tion. SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION LIBRARIES3 9088 01476 4591