RECENTLY, much has been said, particularly on social media, about the allegations of discrimination against the Mae’s Schools, emerging out of an incident where for a “Culture Day” event, students were asked to dress in attire that is representative of the different races in Guyana. However, according to these allegations, a student who dressed in an Indigenous costume was reprimanded for not wearing a shirt.
The student’s mother used social media to elaborate on how her child was affected by this incident, and the story quickly spread like wildfire across Facebook and other social media platforms. The incident has led to peaceful protests outside the school and it has also forced us, as a nation, to observe some very important aspects of our society, particularly cultural forms as expressed through costumes and other mediums, as well as the ways institutions may be both speaking for and contributing to the lessening and general misrepresentation of traditional cultural forms.
Ideas of changing/altering authentic cultural ideals have long been traditions of the colonialist mentality and, therefore, it has a very strong presence in Guyanese and Caribbean history. For this reason alone, the alleged refusal to allow a student of indigenous descent to wear the kinds of clothes that are appropriate to his culture, even as the school claims to be celebrating Guyanese culture on “Culture Day” is problematic, not only because it invokes something terrible that reminds us of our colonial legacy, with colonialists banishing many aspects of the cultures of the “other”, but also because such an act would lead us to the realisation, as others have pointed out, that institutions which instill such a dress code may not actually want to represent AUTHENTIC Indigenous cultural costumes – in which males being topless may be a part – but would rather embrace a less authentic, altered version of the costume that caters to their prudish whims.
Of course, seeking to cover up the Indigenous Peoples in artistic depictions and performances is not something that is relegated to history or, allegedly, to the Mae’s Schools. There have been examples of this in other areas. The one that immediately comes to mind is my own play, “Masque”, that was chosen to represent Guyana at CARIFESTA XIII in Barbados last year.
The play is inspired by a series of films (including “The New World,” “The Road to El Dorado,” “Atlantis: The Lost Empire”, “Avatar”, etc.) that address colonialism and the ‘native experience’ – every one of which presents the characters in traditional wear that is suited to the tropical climate and traditions of the people, rather than trying to instill some sort of dress code for the sake of doing so.
Furthermore, “Masque” is a play that highlights a segment of Guyanese history, showing the effects of European colonisation on the Indigenous Peoples of Guyana. Despite being a successful production, winning several awards at the National Drama Festival in 2016 including the award for Best Use of Costume, the cast and production team had to deal with the suggestions of alterations to the original costumes that were to be used in the CARIFESTA performances.
The use of traditional Indigenous costumes, including tibisiri skirts and bras for the women and loincloths for the men was implied to be too scandalous for CARIFESTA and efforts were made by officials to have parts of the costumes extended and bodysuits to be given to the cast in order to ensure everyone was properly covered.
The whole thing was ironic considering that, being aware of the relationships to clothing and identity, I had made several efforts in the writing and staging of the play to include commentary on costumes and culture. The actors were supposed wear what they wore initially. Skin was supposed to be shown. The Indigenous Peoples in the play were meant to be contrasted with the fully covered Europeans.
The slow progression from the actors shedding their modern clothing that fully covered them back into the more revealing traditional costumes as the play progressed had much symbolic value. I did want to show that one of the effects of colonisation had to do with changing what people wore and, by extension, the alteration of their culture. Yet, when it came down to it, at the end of it all for the CARIFESTA performances, all of this was to be disregarded in order to ensure the actors were properly covered. Symbolism must be thrown away for the sake of propriety. Artistic expression must be suppressed because of prudishness. To not offend the few, we must sacrifice elements that were meant to help the many.
In much the same way that our adherence to dress codes that stifle us within the tropical climates is a part of the legacy of colonialism, it is possible to surmise that the way in which some segments of society react to the bearing of arms and legs and midriffs (as seen in the case with the actors in “Masque) is also a part of that same legacy. Continuing to further colonialist traditions in 2018 is unfortunate because not only is it a legacy that is steeped in bigotry and ignorance, but it is also one that is harmful to one’s culture, one’s identity, and one’s sense of self – and such harm should not be passed on to anyone, much less a child in the Guyanese society.