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Words
came first.
Whether
we’re talking cave paintings, fire-dances or love, ever
since the dawn of humanity, we have expressed ourselves
in words. Writing came later, and from the beginning, it,
too, was an expression of our creativity. Images into symbols,
into images. The Persians invented the novel, several thousand
years ago, and today, every film-script, every song (as
well as every book), more or less, starts with someone sitting
down at a screen and tapping, Fade in…
Among the South Asian community in Glasgow, anger, love
and the need to tell a story are working wonders on the
writers who have been emerging over the past few years.
Various projects, including (among others) the Libraries-organised
Speaking in Tongues and Kisqa Rasta readings of 1997-98,
the CRC Calendar Poetry Competition of 1999 and the work
of the Pollokshields Writers’ Group are indicative of a
growing and powerful trend among people of minority ethnic
origins to pick up the pen. People begin to write for a
multitude of reasons, and publication may be only one part
of that. Taking control of one’s inner life may be the most
potent reason. Desperation might be another; the Word against
the Abyss. Write, or else crack up. And as the song goes,
there is no time for crackin up, believe me, friend …
To engage
in a dialectic of the imagination, is to begin to explore
a broader dialectic relating to the power relationships
of our everyday lives. The power of money and patriarchy,
and the manner in which we sell (or are unable to sell)
our labour, both within and outwith our own houses - these
are just a few of the themes which are currently being explored
in the Pollokshields Writers’ Group. And all this is through
the volition of the writers, themselves. There is no pre-determined
agenda. From rumbustious comedy sketches, to stories and
dramas of urban confrontation, to poetic spiritual awakenings,
the act of expression is both political and physical. By
its nature, writing is a lone experience, and yet, perhaps
in counterpoint, writers need to meet with one another,
to share the physicality of language which is writing. Make
no mistake, writing is dangerous, both for the soul and
for established orders. Why else would dictators - either
of the mahal or of the bethak - attempt to filter that which
issues from the head of a pen? Why else would they attempt
to buy the hand that writes it? And sometimes, of course,
they succeed. We see much creative talent, wasted in glitzy
irrelevance. That’s why new voices are constantly required.
Without fresh voices, we are dead. Our tongues are our hope.
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Thankfully,
the Pollokshields Writers’ Group is a donga of tongues.
The atmosphere during meetings veers from the exciting to
the profound and is always poetic and sociable. The two
main aims are a constant striving for honesty on the page
and the search for the most effective way of communicating.
Eighty-five per cent of the group are women, and about half
the group are of South Asian origin. Issues such as love,
racism, drug abuse, urban living, fantasy, humour, childhood
and domestic abuse are just a few of the areas which have
been explored through the writing. But it is not a therapy
group. The styles of writing are as varied as the individual
writers. Face-to-Face: Different Visions, Common Voices
was an exhibition of the group’s textual and visual work
at the Mitchell and Pollokshields Libraries, respectively,
during the summer of 2000.
Thankfully,
the Pollokshields Writers' Group is a donga of tongues.
The atmosphere during meetings veers from the exciting to
the profound and is always poetic and sociable. The two
main aims are a constant striving for honesty on the page
and the search for the most effective way of communicating.
Eighty-five per cent of the group are women, and about half
the group are of South Asian origin. Issues such as love,
racism, drug abuse, urban living, fantasy, humour, childhood
and domestic abuse are just a few of the areas which have
been explored through the writing. But it is not a therapy
group. The styles of writing are as varied as the individual
writers. Face-to-Face: Different Visions, Common Voices
was an exhibition of the group's textual and visual work
at the Mitchell and Pollokshields Libraries, respectively,
during the summer of 2000. A swathe of the group's work
was published earlier this year in Nomad magazine. Work
has also appeared in the book, New Writing Scotland, which
is a high-profile volume published annually by the Association
for Scottish Literary Studies. Some months ago, off their
own bat, two of the writers set up a community magazine,
Awaz of Scotland. Voice of Scotland. Another is applying
for funding to get a collection of his Scots Gaelic short
stories published. Another has had work broadcast on the
BBC. The Group do frequent public readings, for instance,
recently appearing at Glasgow's Millennium Mela and at the
Intermedia Gallery. Guest writers, such as Sanjeev Kohli,
Jackie Kay and Chris Dolan, have come and shared their valuable
skills and experience with the Group.
This
is not merely a fad. This is a zeigeist. A movement of the
mind. Leila Aboulela, the Sudanese writer living in Aberdeen
(author of an excellent novel called, The Translator), recently
won the McCain Short Story Prize, and Jackie Kay, who is
of African-Caribbean origin, has picked up several awards
for her work. The multimedia, high-profile Wish I Was Here
project (book, exhibition and traveling workshops) which
was launched at the Edinburgh Book Festival in autumn 2000,
draws on work by writers and artists from Scotland's Minority
Ethnic communities. The Connecting Cultures/Threads in the
Tartan exhibition and festival drew on the literary arts
as well as on various performing and visual media, in a
display of work from Scotland's multifarious communities.
Writing by people form Minority Ethnic groups within Scotland
is approaching a watershed. There's a lot going on, north
of radford - though you wouldn't know it from reading the
English Asian Press.
The
arts flow through people's lives. The Word validates us
as individuals and as a community. Reading work which relates
to our own experiences gives those experiences validity.
It makes them real. It makes us matter. The confidence of
a community, and of the individuals within that community,
grows with each word we bleed, and the process is infectious!
Other people think: I could do that. Yes, you can. It's
Scotland. It's 2001. The Creative Channel is well-and-truly
open.
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