These are very difficult times for people who make their living in the arts sector in Nova Scotia. To do our tiny little thing to help, the Nova Scotia Advocate, in yet another bad business decision, commits to featuring (at least) one poem or piece of short fiction each month, for the next five months. And we pay.
PSA: The Power of Poetry: Celebrating Rita Joe. With Rebecca Thomas, Theresa Meuse, Shalan Joudry, Raymond Sewell, Ann Joe
PSA: In this interactive literary reading, Afua Cooper will use text, music, photography, and her own body to bring poetry to life. Her performance will capture crucial moments in Black culture in Nova Scotia and beyond.
With Habiba Cooper Diallo, Martha Mutale, Andre Fenton, Evelyn White, David Woods
Writer and activist Angela Bowden bares her soul as she speaks of the protection mechanisms invoked by Black women for centuries to survive a racist and hostile environment. But at what cost?
Angela Bowden read this terrific poem at the rally in support of Santina Rao, the young mother falsely accused of shoplifting at the Mumford Road Walmart and violently arrested by four police officers in front of her little children.
“Things move slowly, but change comes, and it comes from us,” somebody said at yesterday’s rally against the warmongering Halifax International Security Festival. Here are some photos, and a poem by El Jones.
Nothing like a good old fashioned anti-war poem on Remembrance Day, and local poet Charlie Toth delivers.
Remember the ones have fought bravely
Think hard before sending more in,
The meat grinder that is war time
Doesn’t care if you have mother or kin.
“As someone who only recently took identifying as a Black man seriously, I have struggled to look internally for the parts of me that are so socially visible and yet personally unfamiliar. Searching through music, movement and memory for the shadows that hide my Blackness in plain sight.” Thandiwe McCarthy
A poem by Angela “Angee” Bowden, to remember that this month 400 years ago slaves first arrived in North America.
When the past is my present
And my scars still remain
And our lives still don’t matter
I am living in that pain