This morning, the hug I knew I needed showed up warm and comfortable slow and lingering cozy and familiar Like the pink and grey loppie sweater my Nanny Baker knit for me when I was 7 that made me feel soft and pretty.
This hug didn’t come from any one person, Instead, it arrived from within an echo of our mother’s motherhood the manners that she insisted upon integrity, carefully installed. This hug came in the form of thriving saplings sprouted from seeds of attention and kindness. Now, evidently rooted within my children.
This embrace, cradled me with hope for our community reflections of pride ripple in and ripple out of our village Good humans the spread of joy contagious laughter. A kiss on the lips from a handsome and loving husband leaving for work.
Today, I feel like I am still seen from above as so below.
~Rachelle M. Turple-Christmas
*Written after reading a social media post praising the polite behaviour of students from Sir Robert Borden Junior High School at our local Randy's Pizza place in Cole Harbour, NS. I'm so proud of the kids, namely our youngest son, the "tall soccer player". This comes 2 weeks after the passing of my mother and felt like a warm hug. The tears of joy were welcomed.
When you realize you’ve had your very own Shug Avery all along, you smile. These words are my flowers to her while she’s still here to sniff them. I see you hunny! 💜
I’m 47 and I was today years old when I realized that I have had my very own personal Shug Avery for my entire life and I’m both sad and overjoyed to finally realize it only after all this time. A great big old forty-two years to be exact. It’s crazy to even think about…
Since we were kids, Vanassa (that’s who she is to me, her Daddy was the only one who always called her Asia), has been consistently, one of the warmest, sincere and charismatic people I’ve known. All perfect teeth and beautiful brown skin (the color of red-rose-steeped-tea-with-a-lil-canned milk splashed in) devilishly dimpled, good natured and wide-eyed beauty of her.
I remember us meeting for the first time in the line-up on the first day of grade primary at Allen W. Evans School. Her last name started with an S and mine with a T so we were both close to the end. Interestingly arranged in alphabetical order, I’ll never forget how she grinned at me, leaned in, boldly took my hand and we burst out laughing. We were bubbly five-year-olds growing up in the eighties who shared their first 6 years of school, in the same grade class in a segregated school.
For me, middle age has had a way of bending a lifetime of experiences into a neat feeling of peaceful acceptance. I pride myself on how I can romanticize the shit out of anything and as I approach my fifties, I believe it’s the most honest way to express my version of the world around me. I refuse to see life as either all good or all bad. Daddy used to say, “You have to take the bad with the good Rabbit.” and that adage has stubbornly stuck with me.
I think that abiding by this principal has made me accept how relationships tend to evolve over time. People change. It’s human nature and at some point in life, we all experience it. It’s not any special phenomenon, but as we mature we tend to slowly realize that things never really stay the same. Not for very long anyway. Humans experience a social evolution of sorts, brought about by growing older and perhaps eating less Kraft Dinner and it’s totally ok.
I say all that to say, that as someone who has come to accept that life and relationships change, I have an immense appreciation for Vanassa’s consistent energy.
When we were little girls, we watched cartoons and knew the words to all of the commercial jingles. We knew all the words to the popular songs on the radio, hymns, the songs our parents and older siblings played. If it could be sung, we sang it. We swapped tapes and CDs and grew up eating too many cookies. We shared lipstick and even deodorant. We regularly walked home to North Preston from Cole Harbour High School or from Mic Mac Mall. We dreamed, we confided, we laughed and we sang together one kilometer at a time.
By the time we were headed to high school, the music of Karen White, Bel Biv Devoe, Vanessa Williams, Boys To Men, TLC, Mint Condition and a multitude of other musical inspirations were in heavy rotation. I don’t think there was ever a time we were together and not singing something. It was near to impossible. If it wasn’t her Daddy, Mr. Reggie getting me to sing old songs By The Four Tops, it was us trying to be En Vogue and harmonizing our little diaphragms out. Vanassa was our conductor, our vocal arranger, our manager and always had our backing track. In those good ole days, it was Holly, Me, Susie and Nessa and she simply appreciated the harmony of our friendship, both literally and figuratively.
As we grew older and finally grew up, we were each lead by our own separate journeys, boundaries, intentions and as we became literal borders apart; our soundtrack paused. It wasn’t until we lost Holly in 2019 that we drew back together. I think that we were both inclined to lean-in to our childhood connection and support each other through one of the most unexpected and excruciating losses that either of us had experienced up until that particular moment in time. It was at Holly’s burial, we again held hands and held each other together just like when we were confident and friendly little five years olds. They lowered our beloved troublemaker into the ground and we instinctively knew that our reconnection had to remain intact.
When I moved back home to Nova Scotia, I finally got a full taste of Vanassa’s talent. In 2022, Anthony and I spent a date night at the casino where Asia and Nu Gruv happened to be booked. I don’t know if it was the rhythm of the band, the fact that we knew the lyrics to every song or the wild charisma of the performance that got to me, but I was completely overcome with pride. And Joy. Ever since, we often plan our outings around their performances and especially look forward to events when they are named as the evening’s entertainment. I have yet to see a crowd not get out of their skin when Asia and Nu Gruv are performing; they make the air around them become electric.
I was 47 years old when I realized that I had my very own Shug Avery all along. An inspiration of perseverance, hard work and soulful beauty. I am guilty that it took me so long to realize the gift of our connection. Vanassa is one of the only people I know who grew up to be exactly who she said she would be and her special energy hasn’t changed since age five. Very much like Shug, Vanassa is fiercely independent. I know this because she balances at least 4 different professions at any given time. She’s practical, fearless, loyal and sensual. Vanassa the daughter, Vanassa the mother, Vanassa the wife, Vanassa the sister and Vanassa the friend does whatever she has to do to thrive in this lifetime. Both she and Asia The Singer are a valuable community treasure. The music within her was bred, born and raised in North Preston. He work ethic and drive are derived from being an eighties-raised, too-young-to be-responsible latch key kid. No matter the accolades she is awarded throughout her lifetime and music career, She is ours.
Asia and her community of incredibly skilled and fine-tuned musicians are the keepers of our music. The band, the accompaniment all decorating our collective timelines with the soundtrack of our lives. It doesn’t matter if we’re dancing, if we’re rapping or if we’re shooping along with her and the band; This woman personifies Music Is Life And Life Is Living.
Robert Frost didn’t know what he was talking about when he wrote “Nothing gold can stay.” Despite her fair share of life’s never-ending onslaught of challenges, Vanassa is living her whole entire life like it’s golden and I love that for her.
We come from a place called North Preston Bedrock hilltop Majestic woods Ancestors, descendent from slavery Stolen People with few worldly goods.
Heading North toward the colonies, hope-filled Humans toiled and made their place. They prayed that going North would promise freedom for our “race”. The settlers tried to prosper through adversity and strife They fought to persevere and chose build a better life.
Our people worked hard to have a place to call their own Freedom was their blessing and North Preston was their home. Come Sunday, they sang spirituals and they prayed on their soul search. They fellowshipped together in St. Thomas Baptist Church.
We come from a place of community where neighbors know us each by name We must strive to live in unity, of our history, unashamed. We’re proud of our “Up Home” by none but God it was predestined That we would be a legacy of freedom in North Preston
Opinion pieces are spreading like wildfire and now that I’ve had the opportunity to read from and (tweet) directly with the Director/Producer of This Is North Preston, a addendum to my original essay is required.
Since I posited the importance of context, I’ll extend some of my own. So, as said before, I saw the film at the Canadian Film Festival in Toronto with a mixed crowd of Nova Scotian family members, Scotian expats, North Preston natives and many strangers. I was seated in the front row of the middle section with the majority of my fellow movie goers at my back. During certain scenes I could hear the sighs and the people exclaim “Oh my God!” and the “Where the f*ck is THIS place?” “That’s CRAZY” and worse, the laughter when Ms. Downey was put on camera in what should have been the comfort and the relative safety of her own home. It was downright hurtful and I felt sick when it was over.
We stayed through to the end of the live commentary from the cast and crew and I distinctly remember director Jaren Hayman clearly stating that prior to this project, he really didn’t know such a place existed on the East Coast. I remember thinking to myself, “How’d they let this interloper pillage our community like this?”. A few of us stopped to speak together outside of the theatre and we were equally disturbed. We felt so exposed and ashamed, we were sad. People were laughing at us and confused at our culture and how we live and no doubt some went home possibly believing every negative thing they had ever thought about Black People.
I say ALL THAT to finally state the obvious. It’s one thing to deal with our own when being forced to hold up the proverbial mirror, it’s an entirely different thing when the trouble is amplified by an outsider and a white man at that.
I’m not pulling the “race card”. I’m half white and I have enough sense to know that it’d be problematic and wrong for *ME* with my light skinned self who was born and raised in North Preston to cast my people in a disrespectful, anti-black and discriminative shadow. So to invite a stranger in and allow their media vehicle to do it is sacrilege.
“I was drawn to our characters stories bc they owned their life decisions while also intelligently exploring the cycle that contributed to their upbringing. The film isn’t perfect and it’s not the entire North Preston story, but it’s THEIR North Preston which deserved to be heard.” I thought this film is a documentary based on real life individuals but Hayman seems to view our people as characters. NONE of these *people* are characters. They are real life human beings and even worse, the film encouraged many of them to depict themselves and each other as caricatures. This is a problem.
I personally am pleased with much of the dialog which has sprung from the overwhelming reaction to this film. We’ve been able to agree that the name of the film is what’s majorly problematic and that the reality of the content requires immediate redress. We’ve accepted that the reaction of community members is justified. We’re growing, we’re learning and more importantly, as a community, we’ve been called to task and we’re talking and planning for next steps. Some of us are hunkering down and huddling toward building solutions and realizing that it’s our onus to do more to protect our legacy. There is a reason for everything and I believe that this is the reason so I’ve made my peace with it. I am concerned with the lack of remorse or better yet, understanding by the films director.
Hayman insists that this film was indeed an exploration into North Preston’s troubled past and not Blacksploitation.
We beg to differ.
Spending a year of my life doing this project with money raised privately and no broadcast or streaming deal would be a terrible way to try to advance ones career. We explored tough problems, but also history, social cultural issues, opportunity and decades of systemic racism.
I don’t know Mr. Hayman personally. Other than what I’ve been able to ascertain online about his professional achievements, I know next to nothing about him but I am deeply concerned that in 2019 when a white man is being asked to consider whether or not his actions were exploitative toward the black community, he abjectly denies all wrong doing and instead is praised for a job well done. I question the professional integrity of someone who refuses to listen.
While us community members are faced with picking up the pieces and putting our relationship and motives in check, Hayman gets to climb back into his ivory tower and ride off into the Western sunset leaving the ashes and dust to settle in our community and with ‘This Is North Preston’ under his belt as a trophy.
“Systemic Racism” are simply buzz words from someone who is sheltered by his white privilege. You can easily deny that you’re actually *still* quite ignorant about North Preston & you had the audacity to assume we wouldn’t notice how terrible you framed us ALL in this film.
At this point it is what it is. I really wish that the film participants had their own independent PR and legal consultants to properly advise and coach them on what content they should divulge and how prior to going into production and at least when it was time for editing. I trust that they’ll do different going forward. I have no doubt of the trajectory of success that they’re all on and I wish them the best. These are the success stories our North Preston needs to continue to thrive and we all salute you!
Me personally, I’ll be working with my peers to build a Bursary Fund for our North Preston Youth in hopes to help make post-secondary education more attainable through being more affordable. That’s the impression the film left on me so, in reality it’s all been worth the “drama”.
I don’t think Hayman is a bad guy, in fact I think he’s demonstrated his ability and potential as a director and producer! I think we’ll be hearing more from this man in the future but I do think it’s unprofessional to be arrogant in the face of justified confrontation. I believe he’s simply a man who’s currently on the defense and with lots to learn about how his white privilege can be best utilized and how professional allyship works.
If the experience isn’t perceived by your audience as quid pro quo, it’s exploitation. Simple as that. We’re trying to teach you. So, in the words of the great Lyricist Kendrick Lamar, “Sit Down. Be Humble”
To capture the essence of an entire community, the story must be finessed with incredible nuance and care.
I saw the film ‘This Is North Preston’ at it’s original release during The Canadian Film Festival in March. Like a lot of other people and prior to seeing the film, I’d seen the trailer and wasn’t overly impressed. Many of us feared that the ‘documentary’ (I use this word in the most liberal way possible) would amount to nothing more than a contrived and visual blanket statement of the average anti-black and stereotypical sentiments of which many of us are all too familiar; Sadly, we were right.
Needless to say, this portrayal of coming of age in North Preston is a scathing display of ignorance and arrogance in disturbing amounts. I grew up in North Preston and although I’m about a decade older than the films central figure, in my opinion, Preston natives were shamefully depicted as caricatures of who the majority of us actually are.
Each one of us are entitled to capture our experiences from our own perspectives as it’s entirely relative to the storyteller. It’s useless to argue somebody else’s point of view or opinion but having said that, since the film is titled ‘This Is North Preston’ and North Preston is my home; I will challenge this problematic portrayal of my community with my own opinions regarding the subject matter.
Like most young girls from the community, I was protected from the elements of bad behavior. My father chose to tightly guard my proximity to anything or anybody who had the potential to bring me harm and he diligently ensured that I understood boundaries in terms of exercising agency over my own body. Our boys weren’t necessarily as protected. Where us girls were sheltered from the perils of pimping and prostitution, I understand that for many of our community’s boys, the opposite is true. Many of our young boys were grossly exposed and even encouraged.
Although it is not been my personal experience, I can accept that for some people who grew up a few years behind me and especially from a male perspective; This film captures the essence of their exposure and their exposures are what bred their likelihood to pursue and participate in certain socially irresponsible activities. Like it or not, I believe that this is the reality for many of North Preston’s young men.
Much of my discord with this film is that it’s intentionally captured as broad-stroke to misrepresent an entire community. Pimping and prostitution is in fact not intrinsic to the natural culture of North Preston or Black Nova Scotians for that matter. Our Men did not walk out of Africa with the innate impulse to buy and sell each other. Our Men did not walk out of slavery with the proclivity to exploit their female counterparts to the worst possible end of the spectrum in terms of sexual violence. They simply and absolutely did not.
In reality, most criminal activity surrounding pimping and prostitution arrived in our community as a result of the push factors of poor economic opportunities ultimately derived from acute poverty owed to systemic anti-black racism. Such factors inevitably pulled our people toward bigger metropolitan areas where they were exposed to criminality. Unfortunately, many of them brought the anti-social behaviors back home with them. (*Side note, this is an idea for an interesting documentary that I would love for somebody to tastefully explore.)
Contrary to what this film would have viewers believe; In North Preston, rampant pimping has *never* been the norm or the rule. It is the exception. If one was to organize a Gallup Poll to analyze the demographics of North Preston, the percentage of people involved in pimping and prostitution would be incredibly and boringly low.
I doubt that those who chose to participate in the film are misrepresenting their own experiences, my disappointment lies within the lack of counter balance. Those that align themselves as being the spokespeople of our community and are self-identified advocates for the betterment of our people failed to successfully counter the narrative. Instead, they stepped into the limelight forgetting that the onus of accurate depiction rested in their ability to vocalize the many anti-black stereotypes and provide evidence to the contrary. You cannot claim to be representative for North Preston and yet stand shoulder to shoulder or will sleep next to the same people who perpetuate the violent death of yours and your own children’s legacy.
Allowing the narrative to continually disregard the good pillars of our community and permitting them to be dismissed, discounted and discredited is hypocritical and dangerous within itself. Every attempt at defining ‘North Preston’s Finest’ as a lifestyle and *not* a gang failed miserably and actually worked to reinforce the belief that NPF is indeed a gang connected to organized crime. (Which was rather quite asinine.)
Where were the feminine voices? North Preston is filled with educated, articulate and forward-thinking women. Why were so few women included to provide context? Where were the elders to provide historical context? Where were the blue and white collar workers who’ve never challenged the law a day in their humble lives and live dedicated to supporting and raising socially responsible citizens? I was especially disturbed when the mother of friends I grew up with was seemingly included for comic relief. It was horrifying and incredibly disrespectful to put one of our own on display for strangers to laugh at. I was both saddened and ashamed at seeing her on screen. I wonder if she knew how her image would be used. If that had been my parent, I would be fully booked with court dates and lawsuits.
With the exception of Kirk Johnson who has always been a beacon of hope and an example of strength, dedication, fortitude and hard work for my generation, the film offered but one example of a positive role model and considering Kirk is not the central character, I consider this a failure.
It’s a shame that the filmmakers settled on creating a sensationalized extended music video rather than recognize the value in telling a multifaceted story or didn’t care enough to challenge themselves into filming an accurate portrayal of Indigenous Black Canadians. Perhaps, it was a bit of both. Jaren Hayman I implore you to reach out to those of us interested in sharing and educating you with some of *our* truths. We know that ‘truth’ is subjective and is merely a matter of opinion based on the perspective of whoever is telling the story so, here’s the ‘truth’ from my perspective; I have always found pimps to be effeminate. I firmly believe that it is anti-masculine for men to abuse and sell women. It’s the complete antithesis of the natural order a society especially in a Black Community where the men are free and can actively and openly protect their women. Traditionally, the sex industry was one controlled by women therefore; I question the masculinity of men who busies himself with women’s work. I question the masculinity of men who garner attention with shiny possessions bought with what women have acquired via their own sexual prowess. I question the masculinity of men who claim to have acquired wealth and riches by any means necessary yet are unable or unwilling to finance a film and retain creative control over their own cultural narrative. I question the masculinity men who would sell women rather than uphold, protect and respect us. A society in which men fail to value their women and nurture their children is a society destined for failure.This film tries to make us all look bad however; As negative as the fall-out from this film has been, we have to face the reality. I don’t believe that merely changing the name of it will easily remedy the damage which has been done. This is NOT North Preston but, “a hit dog will holler” and since we’re all up in arms, there is obviously truth in this film. This isn’t the story that we want told about ourselves. This isn’t the story that makes us proud of where we come from. This isn’t the story that captures the essence of what it means to be a Black Nova Scotian. What actions will we now take to move our own narrative forward in a more positive light? Will we begin to hold each other accountable? Will we protect the least among us from the more powerful among us? Will we be honest with one another? Will we now be the community members that we say we are and speak openly to our neighbors about the ills that pervade and pervert the street corners of North Preston and do something to change them or will we simply be enraged until the next distraction comes along?
Despite the negative content of this film, I am not nor will I ever be ashamed of my home. I am proud of where I come from. I am proud of my community and I respect and admire the many people who helped to raise us up with decency and integrity and with steadfast ingenuity. The antithesis of every negative idea portrayed in this film are examples of success which aren’t derived or defined by materialism or perverted by criminal sexual exploitation. We need to now be North Preston’s Finest and showcase our best work to provide much needed counter balance and show the world who we really are.
These are simply the opinions of a girl who grew up Down The Road.
BlackLit101 