Glenda Simms, Contributor
THE RECENT confusion and distress about the dissemination and results of the National Grade Six Achievement Test (GSAT), forced me to think of a time when the children of the poor who attended primary schools were more preoccupied with learning to read and write. They certainly did not have the privilege of deciding between traditional high schools and the upgraded ones.
Perhaps that is why persons of my vintage can never forget the First Reader in the "colonial grand design" to keep poor black people in their assumed, prescribed status. It is in one dog-eared volume to which I was introduced in A class that I met the prototype of the bearded, skinny, tough-kneed and 'callused handed' rural farmer type for whom the most precious commodity was a donkey. Looking back, I realised that the donkey was a female donkey. Her name was Ms. Peg. She looked docile and weather beaten, but she was no doubt the transportation, the weed grazer, and the all-purpose slave donkey of Mr. Joe.
This man was the farmer who was supposed to exemplify the first male to which poor peoples' children were exposed in these text books. I still wonder aloud why Mr. Joe had no wife and why Ms. Peg was the female who was closest to him. Of course one could argue that Mother Hen and her five chickens was the first model of the female-headed household and that this model was representative of the reality of post slave societies. However, I still think that text books for young children should provide alternative positive models to any negativity that might influence them.
These thoughts on the residual influence of colonial education and the link between Mr. Joe and his donkey were reinforced in a recent news broadcast on one of the local television stations. The newscaster featured a modern day Mr. Joe whose donkey had been stolen by some dog-hearted two-foot puss. Not only did they steal the gentleman's all-purpose donkey, but they slaughtered it and apparently sold the flesh to unsuspecting housewives who might very well have been looking for some cheap meat to curry for the funeral festivities in some other community.
IMMENSE GRIEF
The distress of the farmer was so great and so profound that he declared to the entire Jamaican nation, on prime time television, that he had four sons and that if one of them had been killed he would not have been as distressed as he was with the loss of his donkey.
I have no idea what other news item followed this dramatic moment. But I am still distressed by the fact that poverty, marginalisation and the lack of hope can force a father to value an all-purpose jackass over his children.
Yes, I know the reality of rural life; I know how important the sure-footed donkey is for the farmers who eek out their living on the steep, rocky hillsides. It is the donkey who pulls the yams, cassavas, potatoes and all other produce to the roadside where the odd taxi or old truck can pick up the goods and deliver to the higglers who sell in the markets. I also know that when there is terrible drought in some of the parishes it is to the donkey's sides the farmers strap the plastic water containers that must provide the scarce commodity that is needed for cooking and the limited sanitation capacity that can be provided by two plastic drums of water. I also know that the farmers who rent the donkey's back will pay the donkey's owner a small amount of money to carry out various tasks.
And more than that. I know that the donkey will not talk back or resist the kicks of his or her owner. In fact, many donkeys can hardly afford to shake flies from their ears.
In spite of all these valuable contributions of a jackass to a farmer, I still cannot accept the fact that anyone should be put in a position to value any animal over human beings.
So Mr. Joe is alive and well and poor Ms. Peg is dead.
I refuse to cast aspersions on this poor gentleman because in reality, some people do value their racehorses more than any human being or even more than their God. Similarly, in some households, the pet poodle is definitely valued more than the helper.
In spite of these anomalies, I still feel sorry for the poor farmer who was forced to tell the citizens of his nation that his jackass is more important to him than his sons. It is no wonder that in Jamaica the jackass has been credited with the realisation that the world is not level.
Glenda P. Simms, PhD., is a consultant and gender specialist.
