As I made the transition and got over the culture shock among other things, I missed my country. Years later, my father showed me some emails I had sent from an account long since defunct and unused, password forgotten. I wonder who was this kid? A little whiny punk begging his parents to send him a ticket to come home. Like money grows on trees! Ha!
I was an alien in college, a good three years on top of my peers. The hard headedness both Jamaicans and Haitians are known for very much prevalent. I quickly found out where the creative outlets lay, since I wasn't getting much satisfaction from my social interaction in college.
I landed in poetry shows and open mics across Montreal. Getting to know the underbelly of the artistic community. As I passed through the film production programs in Dawson and Concordia's Mel Hoppenheim Cinema School I rapidly saw myself for the first time as Black.
In Jamaica, whenever a stranger would address me, I was "Brown Man". Here I became relegated to a single category, Black. My culture meant nothing, my accent a by-product of my blackness and a reason to believe me "alien" in the country of my birth, punctuated with questions like "Where are you from?" And if I said I'm Canadian, that was not enough, it's "But where are you really from". That's why I took the shortcut of just coming up with the Jamhaitianadian concept.
Coming up the ranks of poetry and spoken word in Montreal it is a very small community. Though it has it's fair share of segregation and separation, we all still have an idea of who we are in this grand scheme called "poetry shows". I had my own idea of what a show should and shouldn't entail.
I was on the cusp of getting a piece of paper saying I am a Filmmaker, but I had gotten a taste of that environment. I felt like it would be too much grovelling and brown-nosing to get higher up the ranks. I wanted to stamp Montreal with something never before seen.
The Art of Performing Aural Sex, an erotic poetry showcase was born. Suddenly something changed. I wasn't limited to my race and cultural background, but now my talent was a showcase. I quickly became known as "THE poetry guy" that was in 2007. Up til now I feel like APASX is an urban legend until it rolls around every year.
Over time though, slipping into that quiet Safe life of having a "day job", I felt unfulfilled and somewhat traumatized by the occurrences in the city. Paul Bad News Brown Frappier was brutally and savagely murdered in February of 2011. A man who had helped me out when I was first performing in front of thousands of students at the Concordia Caribbean Student's Union Culture Show of 2002. I was nervous as ever and he spoke with me and I ended up calming down significantly. Nerves still there, but not controlling me. I saw him 5 days before. Couldn't even say hi properly because I was feeling sick. I felt like someone killed a brother.
The posts on Facebook began... RIP bNb, his music videos flooded my timeline, and my partner at the time made an interesting comment. She said: "Why do you all wait until an artist died before showcasing his talent?" And it clicked for me what I needed to do.
Madpoetix: Soirée Intimes was born. While I had been a part of Slam (competitive poetry) team in Montreal something that was missing was an open mic showcasing Montreal talent, continuously.
I allowed myself, prior to this, to become part of the Black Community. Something my father warned me against, vehemently. His experience was that the Black Community, though subject to the limitations a racialised society such as Canada has placed on it, placed limitations on themselves. They were too caught up in what other people were thinking or feeling to walk the path they wanted to. Few were willing to make moves and change, many were comfortable doing what they've been doing for so long. Against my dad's wishes I allowed myself to become a part of this community. I used the opportunity to learn, and move on.
In moving on, I still garnered their support. Especially with younger members of the community. They banded with me to sustain the Madpoetix Soirees Intimes. Though through our fair share of complications we had to postpone the shows for a year, we picked back up in 2015 where we left off in 2013 with a new venue a renewed verve.
2014 was a pivotal change in my life as a Montrealer. For the first time since 2008 I was jobless, and unable to, by hook or by crook, hold onto a job for more than a few months at a time.
It took three job losses for me to say enough is enough. I had been working on a book of poetry, so long overdue, yet craving publishing. People had been asking me about my own art, when I would showcase myself. The bug bit me, and I knew it was time. No more job hunting. It was time to be an artist. Full time.
I was fortunate in that I have my family's support almost unconditionally! The resurgence of the Soirees Intimes lit a fire under me. Things were beginning to turn. Then I felt I needed to do something more. I wanted to honour my roots. My poetry reflected my background, all of them: Jamaican, Haitian and Canadian. But I had not done anything significant to say with certainty: I. AM. HERE.
So was born, the Born Jamhaitianadian Project. My very first one man show. This August 10, 2015 was the first time I ever stood up in front of a crowd for an extended period of time and the support was immeasurable. With a mere 100 spaces available for the coveted Casa Del Popolo Performance Hall, Montreal came out in droves.
The space was packed. There was no sitting room. There was no standing room left either. It was amazing. Jonathan Emile, local reggae/rnb/hip hop artist lent his voice to the event. I took to the stage to the voice of my grandfather Jean Dominique speaking about the pride of being Haitian, being from this land, and when he finished. I began.
I put my heart on my sleeve for everyone to see. My soul as bare as possible for Montreal to see, and they did. They journeyed with me through poetry, storytelling, comedy, and song. We could have been on a boat going through different weather patterns.
The first thing on my list of things to do in my journey as an actor, poet, singer, writer, filmmaker: Done. And I have Montreal to thank. You know, a lot. Of people, artists among others, want to leave Montreal, many never to return. I say, go ahead, leave! You will create a void, and guess what: I'll go ahead and fill it.
I may leave to do performances, and educate myself more. But I was born here and my career will take off here. And in both a spiritual and metaphorical sense, on August 10, 2015, I was reborn.
The Born Jamhaitianadian
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