Sunday, August 24, 2003

I grew up in a strange household where language is considered, you see my mother spoke Jamaican english all the time whilst my fat spoke Oxfordian English all the time. Lets understand this, there were words which are a part of the English language but not part of the oxfordian English so as children my cousins and I spoke literally 2 different languages whilst in the presence of each separate parent..

they were from the old school of course so, if they were together our language had to be oxfordian.

I got this idea, then, that parents who spoke multi languages would pas on these traits to their children as a matter of interaction. Later on I confirmed it when i realized that I knew a number of kids whose parents were from different countries. My parents however, were from Jamaica and had lived here all there lives. So what has happened to cause this and is this a general problem throughout my country. This little project got confused very early when I visited anothe parish and couldn't understand a word that they were speaking. Mother explained to me that they were talking 'Patois', oh dear, so if I wish to converse with my relatives in far off places right here in Ja. I would have to learn a new language. Problem, my dad forbade the speech of that language in the house, but my mother who i discovered was Tri-lingual helped me out, Plus it felt right.

Strange thing, is that all the kids around, and as I grew and went to High school, spoke the languages.

Jold on let me explain the languages, Jamaican English is a language very close to english but with the inflections, words and musical patterns of what they call 'patois'. Jamaicans understand english whenever its spoken (except br the British) and can get themselves understood by all abroad. Oh thats another thing, Jamaicans will learn another language at the drop of a hat. A Jamaican in the US will speak American better than an American.

Amazingly, when I went to High school I was in a language paradise, I conversed with and understood variances of the English language which amazed me with the intricases which I discovered in every other pupil and every master or mistress. WOW, I said, Plus I had a new subject to learn, it was called 'Speech' I think I was fortunate to be taught that by Trevor Rhone, spokist, Playright, actor and downright good guy.

But I did French and latin, Ha ha, I spent 5 years learning the damn things and after that I can't speak a sensible sentence. I must have been daft, then so was the rest of my fellow students, I really really can't remember anyone who could speak any other language fluently othere than Jamaican after those 5 Years.

Horrors, kids will spend 6 years in primary school and 5 years in high school and 4 years at university and still cant speak english. I really wonder Why.



[ Sat Aug 23, 07:56:59 AM | albert johnson | edit ]
Most men my age will probably tell you about the failure of discipline today in our youth and go ahead and extol the virtues of corporal punishment and its current non-use as the main cause. To kids nowadays, a cane is a large grass which tastes good and some believe is the thing from which we get sugar, brown sugar of course.

In my days a cane was an implement of punishment which when used liberally, would cure any behavioural problem of a high school boy.

I Attended a boys high school and had a peculiar record of being caned thrice in the same day. let me first discuss what a cane was, it was sold in all good bookstores ad did for all ends an purposes resemble the actual plant ar a cross between a cane and a thin bamboo. They came in may sizes, and bendability, (an unusual word but the cane's ability to wrap about one's body added to terms of wrappability) . I was caned for a number of problems and by a number of very famous Jamaicans, all of whom I had the greatest respect for and never once(after the pain had died) felt that they were but doing there jobs. Jonathon A Crick who is was said to have an appendage 40 inches thick, once sent me to buy a banana and a bun prior to another of my famous caning incidents, whence he would have the strength to perform the action. Bishop Gibson, whose fame is legend put me in history by caning my entire class twice for gross misconduct and rampant misbehaviour. We have yet to figure out what it meant.

I wasnt a bad boy, I got good grades never was late of absent didnt smoke until 6th form, and I was a choir boy. But my mouth, my gift of gab and repartee was never considered proper at all. The famous John Earle, a chemistry wizzzrd who didnt think that we were trying to learn when the chemistry lab almost caught fire. Isaac Henry, who scared the hell out of you by a mere look not to mention the thunder in his voice, caned me for being caught. Understand, it wasnt what I did it was that I was caught. Douglas Forrest, my head master ended my caning days in fifth form when he cuaght me in mid air (it was a five shilling bet) , in the chapel doing a standard jump over a chapel bench. In his office he said, 'I know you are not a bad boy so come to my music classes after school and we will see what can be done. So every day at the end of school and sometimes during, we went (yea ther were a few of us) (actually many) to the little room we "Dougs" as we affectionately called him, spoke to us in french and italian and some remote Scandinavian language whilst we listened to the various operas from all the centuries. At first it was hard, but just like the barbarians of Virgil's Aeneid, read and translated by the same Jonathon Augustus Crick, we learned to appreciate it. Changed my life, fixed my mouth and stopped the canings forever. Gosh if he had done that in first form I may have done so much more. Point is Corporal punishment had absolutely no long term effect on me. Since as soon as th pain went away, the caning became a data entity to be compared with the mass of canees in the school.

So it is with today's youth, corporal punishment is not the answer, what "Dougs" did for me was to broaden my horizons in a forcible and no nonsense way. He inculcated in me a desire to learn as now i saw the reasons why. But most of all he practised a form of Zero tolerance. A student would not escape, the punishment will be interesting but you will be punished.

One of the problems we have in schools today is the way in which we make it appear the the school is totally student centric and therefore all matters with respect to students are treated with hand gloves.

You can't cane a child. if a child does any thing the principal cannot expel the child. A teacher who is abused must bring up charges against the child and institute some type of hearing where the child may be represented by a lawyer, and more and more cases where the power in the school is more in the hands of the children than that of the teachers and the principals. Children have a representatives on the school board, with voting rights so that the views and demands by children may be met.

This is a joke adn this society has no where going unless this trend which started in the late 70's is reversed. When children are taught that education is a privilege and that if they break the rules the punishment will be swift. Justice is nonsense if punishment is not swift but humane.

Much more from the archives of Jahno

The Criminal

2 Days after my second Tracheaostomy where a jackson tube now resided in my throat my doctors told me the wonderful news. It basically said that now I would always be able to breathe properly as long as I keep the tube clean and clear, and proceeded to demonstrate and show me how that was done.

This would be permanent, they said, unless your Trachea became stable and the prognosis for this was a couple of years.

You see my trachea was badly damaged due to the length of time that the respirator spent in my throat while I was in ICU.

I was in a severe state of depression, I called my counselor and I cried andthere was no assistance at all from anyone - deal with it my doctors said - this is your life.

So I got angry, and I said to them, this will not be so - there will be a satisfactory conclusion, with much bravado of course.

The nest day I was joined in the ward the bed beside me a young man about 34 yrs old who had a boil lanced and which was infected so he had to stay for a five days of intravenous treatment for the infection.

Strong, slim, fit man who looked more like he was ready for bashment (as we call it) rather than hospital. Armed with many cellulars he proceeded to order his women to bring him food and clothes and also to run aspects of his business. this man sold drugs for a living, he said so in his conversations. I was as mad as hell, here I was beside the one creature that I really really disliked - a drug seller, NOT a USER a seller. L was livid - but I was sick, I had my own problems so i sat there and I kept quiet and listened.

His women came, with food and clothes and he spoke to them directing his business much as a managing director of a large concern in a sales department would.

Others came t visit, they all worshipped this fella, he was a DON, he said to one of them, Uno si dem doctor ya, dem nuh different dan we, just like how mi train as thief and me is a good thief a so dem a good doctor.

That statement fascinated me as I always wondered what the ethical and moral standards those type of people had and how they had evolved.

Now, to talk I had to block the hole in my throat, It was interesting and I sounded quite cloudy but I spoke with him.

He has always been a thief, his early childhood led him in that direction in which he wa very successful and went to america where he made the right contacts and was eventually deported for illegal entry and stay .Dem never Catch I a do nuttin he boasted.

On Sunday the day before he left the hospital he was visited by a group of 12 boys all between the ages of 7 and 12 they came in threes as the nurses would not allow more than that at a time.

These were his soldiers, his sales staff, hi distribution channel, these boys carried sold, marketed , and punished as he dictated an for this he fed them and he clothed them and gave the somewhere to sleep. He was their protector; no one could fool with those kids.

No I was in problems. A criminal beside me, many many new criminals visiting, but they all looked at him with the look of love as he did to them. He was firm but gentle at the same time. He made sure that although he was out and the running were slim that they would survive and he made plans for his return and their continued success.

Strange thing he did every night though was that before he went to be he would pray, and that night his last night I listened to what he had to say.

"Father, Is I and I again who come before you to give thanks and praises to thee for thy mercies unto I. I know that these are just some of the tribulations that I must go through fater but I am strong and will endure oh father. I am a criminal, father the skills you have given I have done I well thanks for helping me through this one. But father there is a man in the bed beside me, him don't do nothing father him is a good man look after him father cause him need u help.

Well, all I could do was Bawl.

its the most profound thing that ever happened to me - it was the prayer of The Criminal - I never looked back it has been better all the way. And I don’t even know his name