Presence.
Truth.
Humour.
Honesty.
Art.
History.
a spoonful of honey
with Stanley G Grizzle
on April 6, 2009
Thank you Eimear and Ed for the lovely hospitality and support.
15 in the south west corner is a haven in the downtown core.
This circle was blessed with four elders from three of the four directions and a ten month old baby girl.
Intergenerational storytelling from ten months to 91.
Stanley graced us with his honesty and humour.
Brotherhood of the Sleeping Car Porters.
He spoke about truth and truth in the story.
He took us back to a time when black people, Jewish people and anyone of coloured skin lived south of Bloor Street. You wouldn't find a coloured church or Synagogue north of Bloor.
At the age of eight Stanley witnessed the violence of racism when his father came home with a knife wound from his temple to his jaw. His father had fallen asleep in his taxi cab and someone had opened the door and cut his face with a knife while he was sleeping.
The white taxi cab drivers wanted to run him out of a job. It didn't work. Stanley's daddy was the first black taxi cab driver and he had the nicest Packard on the road. No knife could scare him from a job. This horrific incident awoke the activist and the social justice organizer in Stanley. At eight he embarked on a life of change, movement, gathering people together in the labour movement, passing bills in Parliament so that black people could eat in restaurants along side their white brothers and sisters, searching for equity and justice.
Stanley is Canadian history in action. He has the jokes, accents, and songs to go along with the story.
Jazz singing kept him sane when he was drafted into the second world war.
He couldn't say enough about the wonderful parents he was blessed with.
He shared his regrets at his long periods away from his own family in the twenty years that he worked as a sleeping car porter for CPR. And how these long periods effected his wife and his children.
The presence of the circle was powerful. All who were there were there to learn, share and face each other. We were there to hear the truth and spread the truth.
Please go out and talk to your elders. Talk to the teenagers on the corner. Talk to the woman next to you on the bus. Get the stories of the people. Share your stories. Hunger for the truth. Ask the questions that are on your lips and in your chest. Demand the truth. We are not getting the truth from our TV screens, our news papers, our radios, or our history books. The truth is on the streets, on the buses, at the libraries, in the laundromats, at the corner store, in the park, on the bikes, and at the bingo halls. Ask for stories and if that doesn't work ask for memories.
We want the People's History of the World. Stories unite around the fire and over cookies.
May the truth be told.
Next circle is April 20, 2009 at Extempore Studio and Gallery in Kensington
A Spoonful of Honey presents
Benjamin Santamaria
Benjamin is a writer, journalist, poet, actor, and activist for the human rights of children. In 1997, he was appointed the first ombudsman for the children in Durango, Mexico. However, in 2002, after his life was threatened due to his activism. Benjamin fled his homeland and came to Canada as a Convention refugee. He has since been Writer-in Residence at Trent University's Champlain College, and writer-in-Exile in residence at both George Brown College and Acadia University. Through his writing, Benjamin is committed to building a bridge of understanding and support between Canadian and Latin American children.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
words over action
Eimear O'Neill on the 9th Spoonful of Honey Circle:
"We had an extraordinary Youth Elder circle here Monday night with 91 year old Stanley Grizzle, author of "My Name's Not George", black labour organiser and history buff, citizenship judge, jazz singer and charmer! We got wonderful footage that will probably end up in Ottawa's archives with the rest of Stan's papers and artifacts. And we gave him the attached painting (Words Over Action) of Obama done by my son, artist Jeremy Bennison. The multi-media project will be itself an archive of elders filmed in environments that bring out what is soulful instead of just academic or staged. A Spoonful of Honey attracts a diversity of youths, elders and artists. Can't wait for the film! Editing will be done as a group project over the next two months."
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
a spoonful of honey
a stencil in work. the sun is shining. I have been in a heavy mood lately. I don't even listen to the radio or watch tv. It must be rubbing off on me. or is the moon? or the pressure on this poor sweet planet that we call home? how do we create relief? how do we apply a bandage or some ointment? Are we the anchor? Am I the ointment? In my calm manner do I create a balm? Am I milk on a burn? If I quiet my mind and mediate on the pleasures and presence of life am I the ice pack? Questions for the gurus. Questions for myself. I have been a bee hive of hectic and worried energy. Stormy tummy and dark of the night furrowed brow. night terrors over money. cold sweats over gentle paces. questioning. questioning. what brings me back to calmness? meditation. exercise. community. the circle. art. action. action. action.
this is a time to act. action buddha. thank you for remembering. in the act of writing this out. I remembered. action. gentleness. surrender. tenderness. simplicity. love.
I am going to get on my bike and participate in an action. end the tar sands. RBC has invested 50 BILLION $$$$ in the tar sands. system access fees. pay us to keep your money safe.
Friday, March 27, 2009
A return to innocence
The eight spoonful of honey was a sweet affair.
Eleven of us gathered in Extempore Studio and Gallery at 60 Kensington Ave.
We gathered around the hummingbird candle like a fire pit and we listened to some sweet sweet folk music. Bob Snider graced us with his singing voice and strumming fingers. We traveled from his childhood haunts to adult views. From one side of the country to the other. Protest songs and love letters, goofy ditties and serious meditations, fall songs and spring songs, end of love and personal confessions. It was an evening of storytelling in tune to the magical sounds of guitar strings. Bob Snider is most certainly a national treasure. Thank you for blessing us with your melodies and true confessions. We giggled and we cried.
The lovely and fabulous Becky Johnson gifted us with six of her very own paper mache masks. This was a wonderful follow up to Erin Bouvey's clown circle. Becky and Erin are old clown buddies. Two weeks prior Erin told us about the six masks she made as she created her own mythology. They made their masks with their eyes closed.
Becky has a lot of stuff. Being in mood to purge and having courage to let go Becky came to the circle and gave away her masks. Good work Becky! The masks now have six new homes.
We also celebrated Ron Cooks' Birth Day! Cake and candles too! Happy Birth day circle supporter!
Upon reflection I feel that this circle is about the return to innocence. Perhaps every circle is about the return to innocence. I felt it and when Terrence said "Your songs make me feel like a child again." I had to agree. Bob Snider's songs do have the power to bring you back to the good days of grass stains and rosy cheeks. Outside until the sun goes down. "hazel bedtime!"...as my mother calls me in after an evening of bike riding and tag. Toys in the yard and chalk on the street. The small pleasures add up. A warm spring breeze, a sunny spot protected from the wind, cookies, a trip to the corner store, lying under a cherry blossom tree, honey on a spoon, a good story, a good laugh, a long and loud stretch, a nap on the beach, and the list goes on. Can you remember a simple pleasure? add it to the list and watch them add up. To have pleasure is to have presence. To have presence is to have life. This is the moment. You are beautiful. And life is sweet.
Thank you for joining us.
A Spoonful of Honey Storytelling circle April 6, 2009
Presents our oldest Elder
Stanley Grizzle
“No ordinary man,” profile of Judge Stanley Grizzle for Via Rail Magazine
A glance at Judge Stanley G. Grizzle’s shoes reveals an impressive shine. This pair happens to be smooth patent leather, but every pair he owns looks almost as glossy. It’s a habit; as a sleeping car porter back in the days of steam trains and gentlemen in soft fedoras, he guesses he shined thousands of shoes.
Now 93 years old and a judge—he was appointed to the Court of Canadian Citizenship in 1978—His Honour admits that he still owns the shoeshine kit he bought when he joined Canadian Pacific Railroad in 1940, at the age of 22. Jobs were scarce, and in those days railroads were among the few places hiring blacks. “Porters were well respected and looked up to by many in the community because they had steady employment,” Grizzle recalls in his book, My Name’s Not George: The Story of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters in Canada.
For 20 years, Grizzle made up and put away the berths that typically lined either side of the sleeping-car passageway (usually 12 upper and 12 lower), and also looked after up to three more pampered passengers secluded in a private compartment. While passengers slept, he shined the shoes left under the lower berth, kept the washrooms clean and stocked with towels, mopped floors and emptied spittoons in the men’s smoking room at the end of the car.
“We needed a strong back, a sense of humour and the ability to get by with little or no sleep,” Grizzle remembers. “But the wages were steady, albeit low, and we had a chance to travel. We were busy, no question, but there was always time to ooh and aah over beautiful scenery!”
don't miss the next circle!
Eleven of us gathered in Extempore Studio and Gallery at 60 Kensington Ave.
We gathered around the hummingbird candle like a fire pit and we listened to some sweet sweet folk music. Bob Snider graced us with his singing voice and strumming fingers. We traveled from his childhood haunts to adult views. From one side of the country to the other. Protest songs and love letters, goofy ditties and serious meditations, fall songs and spring songs, end of love and personal confessions. It was an evening of storytelling in tune to the magical sounds of guitar strings. Bob Snider is most certainly a national treasure. Thank you for blessing us with your melodies and true confessions. We giggled and we cried.
The lovely and fabulous Becky Johnson gifted us with six of her very own paper mache masks. This was a wonderful follow up to Erin Bouvey's clown circle. Becky and Erin are old clown buddies. Two weeks prior Erin told us about the six masks she made as she created her own mythology. They made their masks with their eyes closed.
Becky has a lot of stuff. Being in mood to purge and having courage to let go Becky came to the circle and gave away her masks. Good work Becky! The masks now have six new homes.
We also celebrated Ron Cooks' Birth Day! Cake and candles too! Happy Birth day circle supporter!
Upon reflection I feel that this circle is about the return to innocence. Perhaps every circle is about the return to innocence. I felt it and when Terrence said "Your songs make me feel like a child again." I had to agree. Bob Snider's songs do have the power to bring you back to the good days of grass stains and rosy cheeks. Outside until the sun goes down. "hazel bedtime!"...as my mother calls me in after an evening of bike riding and tag. Toys in the yard and chalk on the street. The small pleasures add up. A warm spring breeze, a sunny spot protected from the wind, cookies, a trip to the corner store, lying under a cherry blossom tree, honey on a spoon, a good story, a good laugh, a long and loud stretch, a nap on the beach, and the list goes on. Can you remember a simple pleasure? add it to the list and watch them add up. To have pleasure is to have presence. To have presence is to have life. This is the moment. You are beautiful. And life is sweet.
Thank you for joining us.
A Spoonful of Honey Storytelling circle April 6, 2009
Presents our oldest Elder
Stanley Grizzle
“No ordinary man,” profile of Judge Stanley Grizzle for Via Rail Magazine
A glance at Judge Stanley G. Grizzle’s shoes reveals an impressive shine. This pair happens to be smooth patent leather, but every pair he owns looks almost as glossy. It’s a habit; as a sleeping car porter back in the days of steam trains and gentlemen in soft fedoras, he guesses he shined thousands of shoes.
Now 93 years old and a judge—he was appointed to the Court of Canadian Citizenship in 1978—His Honour admits that he still owns the shoeshine kit he bought when he joined Canadian Pacific Railroad in 1940, at the age of 22. Jobs were scarce, and in those days railroads were among the few places hiring blacks. “Porters were well respected and looked up to by many in the community because they had steady employment,” Grizzle recalls in his book, My Name’s Not George: The Story of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters in Canada.
For 20 years, Grizzle made up and put away the berths that typically lined either side of the sleeping-car passageway (usually 12 upper and 12 lower), and also looked after up to three more pampered passengers secluded in a private compartment. While passengers slept, he shined the shoes left under the lower berth, kept the washrooms clean and stocked with towels, mopped floors and emptied spittoons in the men’s smoking room at the end of the car.
“We needed a strong back, a sense of humour and the ability to get by with little or no sleep,” Grizzle remembers. “But the wages were steady, albeit low, and we had a chance to travel. We were busy, no question, but there was always time to ooh and aah over beautiful scenery!”
don't miss the next circle!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
first edit
Kai'enne and I just finished our first session of watching and editing some of the circles together! The session ended but the short film will be pulled together on Sunday.
It is wonderful to return to the circles and be reminded of what has been shared.
Have I mentioned how much I like circles?
So much truth, heart, emotion, vulnerability, openness, similarities.
I am reminded that we are a collective.
Our dreams, our thoughts, our feelings are shared.
We are constantly moving towards oneness.
To paraphrase Wahu Kaara
To begin our soul search we must exit.
We must exit to begin.
Exit the noise and go within.
into your cave.
into your dreamtime.
the void is welcoming.
my dreamtime is calling.
morning is too close.
grant writing is the task at hand.
tie me to my chair.
limit my trips to the kitchen.
snack time?
It is wonderful to return to the circles and be reminded of what has been shared.
Have I mentioned how much I like circles?
So much truth, heart, emotion, vulnerability, openness, similarities.
I am reminded that we are a collective.
Our dreams, our thoughts, our feelings are shared.
We are constantly moving towards oneness.
To paraphrase Wahu Kaara
To begin our soul search we must exit.
We must exit to begin.
Exit the noise and go within.
into your cave.
into your dreamtime.
the void is welcoming.
my dreamtime is calling.
morning is too close.
grant writing is the task at hand.
tie me to my chair.
limit my trips to the kitchen.
snack time?
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
winter love
you don't have to be sagittarius to read this.
dream time, darkness, winter, meditation, gestation, slow boat, turtle's pace, sitting in circle, quiet soft steps, zoning out, playtime, deep tunnels and burrows under the earth, cozy caves and flannel sheets....bring them on and let nap time begin. We still have some time before the crocus pokes it head out of the earth. Embrace these darker days, honour your hibernation, and continue to recharge your spirit in the quiet of your cave.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): "Everything is gestation and then
bringing forth," wrote poet Rainer Maria Rilke in his book
*Letters to a young Poet.*
"To let each impression and each germ of feeling come to
completion wholly in itself, in the dark, in the inexpressible, the
unconscious, beyond the reach of one's own intelligence, and await with
deep humility and patience the birth-hour of a new clarity: that alone is
living the artist's life."
I think it's also the approach you should take in the
coming weeks, Sagittarius, even if you're not an artist. As smart as you
are, there's an even greater intelligence working discreetly within you that
is more slyly brilliant and lushly visionary than your conscious mind. You
owe it to your future to let it do its work.
-free will astrology Rob Brezsny http://FreeWillAstrology.com
Thank you rob for your weekly love letters. They see me through and hold me up.
if you are patient this is what is coming....
dream time, darkness, winter, meditation, gestation, slow boat, turtle's pace, sitting in circle, quiet soft steps, zoning out, playtime, deep tunnels and burrows under the earth, cozy caves and flannel sheets....bring them on and let nap time begin. We still have some time before the crocus pokes it head out of the earth. Embrace these darker days, honour your hibernation, and continue to recharge your spirit in the quiet of your cave.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): "Everything is gestation and then
bringing forth," wrote poet Rainer Maria Rilke in his book
*Letters to a young Poet.*
"To let each impression and each germ of feeling come to
completion wholly in itself, in the dark, in the inexpressible, the
unconscious, beyond the reach of one's own intelligence, and await with
deep humility and patience the birth-hour of a new clarity: that alone is
living the artist's life."
I think it's also the approach you should take in the
coming weeks, Sagittarius, even if you're not an artist. As smart as you
are, there's an even greater intelligence working discreetly within you that
is more slyly brilliant and lushly visionary than your conscious mind. You
owe it to your future to let it do its work.
-free will astrology Rob Brezsny http://FreeWillAstrology.com
Thank you rob for your weekly love letters. They see me through and hold me up.
if you are patient this is what is coming....
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