A Djembe in a Tassa Ensemble by Collin Lezama

A Djembe in A Tassa Ensemble – when this title was handed to me by Rev. Ashwood, I honestly had no idea what a djembe was (it’s a drum)…even though it is something inherited from African culture and assimilated into the Trinbagonian experience and I actually have one in my room! Strangely enough I was well aware of what the tassa (also a drum) is, as it is commonplace and acceptable in all aspects of Trinbagonian festivities…one could say it is even expected. According to Wikipedia, it is of Persian origin and brought to the Caribbean by Indian indentured labourers.

The history of the Presbyterian Church (Trinidad and Tobago, TT) has much of its origin in the Indian indentured labourers (although there existed a Presbyterian presence that pre-dates that particular history). The Presbyterian Church (TT) has been unable to escape that identity and is still largely seen as Indian church both within and outside. Thus, while persons of African heritage coming into the church should be seen as progress, it is still seen as an anomaly.

I thought of beginning at the beginning until something happened as recently as two days ago. To me, fascinating beyond measure! I cannot believe in the supposedly progressive society that we live in that such absurd questions could still be asked.

One of our church’s lay pastor’s daughters was getting married and it so happened my date was the cousin of the bride. I was the wedding singer and I was introduced by one of the officiating ministers as “Student Minister”.

Well after the service my date (whom we shall call Sharon) came and spoke to me of the interesting conversation that she had with one of her more senior aunts. It went something like this:

Aunt: Where he from?

Sharon: La Romaine.

Aunt: He is Presbyterian???

Sharon: Yes! He’s from La Romaine church

Aunt: Yeah…but…he’s Presbyterian?

Sharon: Yes! He’s a student minister! He’s in the Barrackpore Region!

Aunt: YEAH YEAH YEAH! BUT HE IS PRESBYTERIAN?

Sharon rolls eyes and walks away to share this encounter with me.

Reading this, I’m uncertain that most people would understand that conversation or the dynamics that caused Sharon’s aunt’s shock (and perhaps disdain). In talking to my principal about such issues in the early days of seminary about such issues, he says I should not worry about that except from some little old ladies in the corner. In retrospect, those words should not have been comforting to me or to anyone for that matter. The old ladies? Really? Then what have these old ladies been learning in all their years sitting in church pews??? Or have they been doing just that, only sitting. What on God’s earth and in a Christian house of worship were they being taught??? Clearly, they missed something! Or was the perception that they had of their church engendered in the church.

Had the house of justice become an exclusive club for a particular kind of people?

What was being asked in the earlier conversation was actually this, “What and how is this black, bald head creole[1] in this Indian church?”

Sadly, this question (and the ensuing conversation) is not unfamiliar to me nor is it exclusive within the walls of the church.

I recall my early days of membership in the church. I had just started secular employment, working at a local KFC. It was payday…or rather paynight…and we started discussing the plans we had for the weekend, who was gonna lime/hang out, who had what shift and it came I had church on Sunday. My manager asked “What religion are you?” Unreservedly, I said “I’m Presbyterian”

SILENCE FOLLOWED…

She was shocked, I honestly did not immediately understand why…then a little while after, something that I’d not prior noticed just hit me…like BOOM! I could see the head of everyone in the congregation of my home church, including myself. And there and then, I noticed, I was different from everybody else. My hair didn’t fall the same way-it couldn’t fall at all! I literally was the “Djembe in The Tassa Ensemble.” I was the only person of African descent in that congregation.

I subsequently replied to my manager “Oh! People like me are not supposed to be Presbyterians?” She nodded.

Interesting, I thought.

But at my home church, I was never allowed to feel different. I was made part of that congregation and though ethnically different from everyone else I still felt “a part of”.  It would be this congregation and its then-minister that would recommend me for candidacy to the ordained ministry. That would be when things got a little weird.

My application for ordained ministry, having left the boundaries of my home church and region, went missing for nearly two years! I thought nothing of it, I waited, I was still gainfully employed, and things were good; that application was the least of my worries. However, while I was awaiting any sort of response from that application (even if was to hear no), there was one minister who was quite overwhelmed in his pastoral responsibilities. He had to handle the business of his own Pastoral Region as well as serve as the interim minister for two additional regions. I don’t know if to say he was brave enough, perhaps with all I know now I should – but  he decided to use me as pulpit supply in those two additional regions.

The encounter in one of those churches, I will never…NEVER forget. Interestingly enough though, it’s one of the churches in the region that I now serve. It was an encounter similar to the conversation that I had above but a little more telling. My name would have been on the preaching schedule but I was still new to this congregation and no one would have any idea of who I was or what I looked like. I arrived an hour early as is my custom and met a middle aged woman doing some cleaning touch ups prior to the service. This conversation went like this:

Me: Hi I’m [name given]. I will be conducting your service this morning.

Lady (whose name I don’t know to this day): You sure you in the right church?

Me: Yes

Lady: You sure is [geographical name given] church?

Me: Yes. I’m sure.

She paused to think and asked one more pressing question

Lady: You sure is the [geographical name given] PRESBYTERIAN church?

Much emphasis was given on the word “Presbyterian”, as if I was not supposed to be there, worse yet, conducting a service!!! This poor woman had burnt into being and psyche that her church was only for a particular people.

Lady: Well alright, I does make de refreshments for the speakers who come so I going home to make some pholourie and I will back.

Five years later, I’m still waiting for that pholourie…she didn’t come back to the service that day. I doubt she’d expected I’d be her assigned Student Pastor five years later. I don’t remember which of the ladies she is but I do still wonder what she thought and what she thinks now.

Well, back to that missing application now! No one seemed to know where it was. It would take the intervention of my home region’s Presiding Elder[2], who was also a member of the presbytery, to inquire and discover just where that application had reached. In 2007, in the middle of a CANAAC youth gathering north of the island, the night before, unprepared and not expecting it, I got a call that I was to meet with the presbytery for 11am the next morning. WHAT???? I had fourteen hours to get ready for a presbytery interview! No dress clothes at hand! Had to get down to south and pull myself together in time!

What made this seem unfair to me was that they were interviewing third and fourth year seminarians on that same day in similar time periods. The novice, me, following senior seminarians to be interviewed. I was advised that this was not normally the practice. But say what, I was happy, the application was progressing…my presiding elder became ill after that interview. My application would disappear again. I continued in secular employ for another two years. I was now becoming disenchanted with my work and with this mysterious application.

I had become sufficiently annoyed with my job to just quit. I had over seven months leave, that would allow sufficient time to organise what to do next. I had marvellous job offers from Operations Manager with one security firm to Compliance Supervisor with another. Yet to the back of my mind, I kept thinking how this would affect me being pulpit supply if my application was approved. I turned down all offers and waited. My leave period was about to expire and I was yet to hear anything about the application.

I had now become disenchanted with my church. I had to disappoint my home church-I not only applied to withdraw my application but to also withdraw my membership from the Presbyterian Church altogether. That was one of the most painful decisions of my life!

The minister of my home church called me in, talked with me, counselled me and asked that I withdraw that withdrawal. Well obviously I did…and in April 2009 my candidacy began.

But the challenges continued. The new CANACOM EIM Secretary would constantly advise of what I put and should not put on facebook but boy was I hardened! Never listened then and those postings would be the first attempt in my candidacy to get my black butt out of this church. Some “anonymous” person (I know who it is now) monitored my facebook profile for weeks and picked out every negative comment made printed it out and posted it to the then moderator. I thank the Lord that the then moderator was who he was at the time! Called me into the office with the seminary principal, scolded, cautioned, I apologised and we moved on. In that encounter the issue of race did come up but it was not seen as an issue to be bothered with-“we have matured to beyond that.”

My recent experience proves otherwise.

I was still very hardened though and still didn’t listen to that EIM Secretary that was doing her best to save me from me. It wasn’t negative by my own personal standards but support for a community that I am close to and compassionate with…my brothers and sisters in the LGBT community. Those made it to the office too. That didn’t work to get me out either, thank the Lord! No scolding this time, only words of care, concern and most importantly, caution.

My facebook posts changed…I finally got the message in my hard head!

So we come to “now” My recent experience. I still cry. I cry as I type this when I think of someone that I considered friend and mentor would become my-I don’t like using the word but enemy is the only word that comes to mind.

I must say that this serving minister of religion put on a good act! A damn good act! While some of the information is second hand, I trust the source from which it came. I honestly thought that the tough season I had with that minister was that he was preparing me for all to expect in years to come but I later learnt from his then lady friend, he was preparing me to fail. I did at times think of some of the things that he was asking to do a little unrealistic but I took it as part of the experience. She said she had to intervene many times when he was ready to get rid of me. His racism and discrimination was stunningly blatant. It came up even more so when he questioned my [non-existent] authority at a recently held church youth camp. May the Lord bless him abundantly!

One more recent event…one which was one of my biggest fears, I had to preach at the big church! Another youth event and the sermon and its presentation were tailored to that demographic. My liturgist was a young dynamic woman who doesn’t always stick to traditional liturgy…so we worked well together. J The service went well-hands were shook, much commendations given. But later that week, the news came back that the preacher’s sermon was inappropriate and torn to pieces and taken out of context in that meeting…the preacher, me, was even condemned for using the dialect-and for those who know me well enough, using dialect is a significant challenge for me. Thus, I would think it more of an accomplishment. LOL. My young liturgist wondered if my sermon could have been ripped apart how she fared with her non-traditional liturgy.

This was my response: You fine! You fail to remember, you’re “one of them” Sigh. She reluctantly agreed and argued the challenges she faces as young female leader and now a young elder. But girl you still “one of them” and won’t face what I face and will continue to go through.

These experiences do faze me at times and that same young liturgist and elder has to constantly remind me of He whom I do this for. And while I see the issue of race is still very present, I often think it’s not the issue of race at all but rather the issue of being an outsider. I came into this community of faith as an adult, stormed, more or less, into their safe space and “This bloody upstart has garnered so much of a following from those who we call the future of our church! We’ve already said every negative thing about him…we don’t understand!”

And therein is the problem, they don’t understand. Their children do NOT want to play tassa alone. They want to be…they ARE an orchestra! In the middle of a tassa ensemble…trying to pull the rhythms and instruments together against all odds, against heritage and against ingrained tradition…they are my hope and the reason I remain. As they have stood with me through thick and thin, through rumour, innuendo and castigation, I will stand with them. I will make the worship experience real, I will shout to the Lord like there’s no tomorrow, I will sing hallelujah at two in the morning at a youth camp because our youth wans to express their praise to God without reservation or hindrance! I will facilitate a “dance like David danced” praise session. And when it’s all done, my doors remain open, to hear their concerns, their struggles, their pains…the stories they will and can share with no one else, with love, compassion and without judgement; advise and counsel to the best of my ability and direct to other understanding counsellors when their concerns are beyond my capacity.

Djembe has a much broader meaning now but we’ll talk about that in another writing.

 

How does Jonah’s story impact you as you read Collin’s story?  What are the images which played in your mind as you read Collin’s experiences?  What would you say to Collin if you had the opportunity to speak to him directly?  And to the sister who had a moment’s hesitation?  Please pause to say a prayer for mission partners who are in strange spaces and whose legitimacy is sometimes questioned by those whom they seek to serve?

 

Mr Collin A Lezama is a student-minister with the Presbyterian Church of Trinidad and Tobago.  He serves with the Board of Youth Affairs Riddim Section (Musicians who sing and play tassa and other musical instruments to accompany the choruses sung at Youth events).  He is in his final year at the St Andrew Theological College.