Today, on the anniversary of Dr. Clarke's passing, I am reluctant to make a post ostensibly because as a Writer there has never been a single individual of whom I have written so much. So much so that I am convinced that I should pass up some opportunities - however, not of Dr. Clarke.
Bear with me therefore, as I attempt once again to record my experience of the great man (hoping the Internet does not crash in the process). These are edited highlights of a previously undelivered tribute.
"All the world's a stage," wrote William Shakespeare, "and all the men and women mere players. We have our exits and our entrances and one man in his time plays many parts. His acts being seven ages."
Today, the Sam Sharpe Teachers College family of pioneer alumni and founding students join with members of our pioneering staffs, mourners here in Jamaica and from every continent, lots of islands, nooks and crannies, to remember our time with this outstanding educator, whose time on the world stage leaves lots of us with a little piece of himself, to carry on the hopes of life in an educated society.
In one voice, our bunch of pioneer alumni place on record our highest honour to Dr. Clarke, for leading us to joy, love, respect and success, and above all honour.
My friends, a motley crew of perfect strangers arrive at Granville, from north and south and east and west, on a windswept rainstorms day, September 29, 1975 to a training college which is more like a soldier's training camp, where from the look of things, before nightfall comes we will be expected each to make a bed, make a bed, not spread a bed.
On seeing the quizzical look on.many faces at the lumber, hammers and nails, and other construction materials lying around, Dr. Clarke looks us in the eye and announces unbelievably that the emphasis is on study and learning, not comfort.
It is not the building which is the college, he announces. The college is the people. We will build a college. Full stop. He does not say full stop, but almost immediately there is a shared feeling that something special is about to happen.
Inspite of his assurance, had it not been long before the Internet and facilities like long distance education, laptops, desktops, Android phones and IPhones, if those technologies were available, many of us might have turned back.
Having come up the hill through a drenching and standing in wet clothes, with wet hair and wet shoes, many of us felt like the boy standing beside his suitcase at the railway station, looking down the railway track, not knowing whether we are going, or coming back.
In fact, our transportation that brought us here have already left, mainly because there is no shelter for our relatives and friends who had come to tuck us in. No parking too, and no warm greeting from a smiling Principal.
Through force of circumstances, we begin to settle down.
So this is what a college is? Hmmmm!
As we turn the pages...
We soon learn who Dr. Clarke really is, for real, for real, as he gently and with some consideration sets out the rules as time goes by, glaring now and then through horn rimmed glasses, and for emphasis follows up with a washing index finger.
After awhile, there is nothing uncertain about this place and the Staffs - Academic, Administrative and Ancillary, led by Dr. Clarke. Everybody just seems to be on the same page and that encourages us to fall in line. In a timely manner, Dr. Clarke meets with male students, some of whom are dizzy from being outnumbered and overwhelmed by the bevy of females, but we are students, not studs.
You have come here to improve your lives and afterwards to return to your family who sent you here, he counsels, or words to that effect. We did not know that as an experienced yachtsman, Dr. Clarke was advising us to set our sail. Also, he adds to his good counsel that here, different cultures collide, so we should handle our interpersonal relationships with due care and consideration. You can imagine we are now eating from his hands.
As time goes by a few nerves get frayed, like that of a scullion in the canteen who turns up to Dr. Clarke's office, to complain that all she ever gets to do is to wash pots.
Well, Dr. Clarke heads to the canteen, where rolling up the sleeves of his spanking manilla shirt, he washes the pots himself right there in the kitchen, and in leaving the scullion in shock, he says with not a little affection: " You are lucky to have a job. Many people would be happy to have your job." We never again hear of another such complaint, however, in that great moment those of us in earshot hear firmness and love. Three years later, when pioneers were leaving that same Staffer was no longer a scullion and she had developed a big broad smile, as if she had come to stay.
On the grounds there are mounds of topsoil everywhere and Dr. Clarke gets a few early volunteers to join him in landscaping. He pushes the wheelbarrow until he is wet with sweat, at which time we peeping out from our dormitories being more than a little embarrassed take over, not take cover. A scrap of litter is being blown across the parking lot, Dr. Clarke picks it up, crushes it and drops it in a nearby bin. Man, are we spoiled until we kearn that Pioneers and Founders are real people who get their hands dirty, who blaze a trail where there was none, led by a leader who we trust, knowing he has not come this far to leave us.
What Principal, on seeing his students bored on a weekend or two, loads up his car like a Jamaican ducta piling passengers into a Coaster bus at Half Way Tree, takes us to his home for an impromptu cocktail party! Personally speaking, it was my first ever no-alcohol cocktail party. Sorry, fellow pioneers, some of you had to go home on weekends often.
Dr. Clarke encourages us to sacrifice our lunch once weekly, and so he invites citizens from the Granville community and further afield, to take our place at our tables. It gives us an immense feeling to see elderly folks from across the city in our auditorium having our meals with dignity and pride. In fact we feel more than a tinge of pride to have them share with us, and not knly that, that sacrifice explodes the myth that 'man caant do nutty pon hungry belly.' Dr. Clarke proves to us and it is true that if you pass through the hunger barrier and survive, with a full stomach you can make ten times more success.
As we turn the pages, the leaves are flying fast...
Interaction with our Board of Governors, as well as guests such as Fr. Martin Carter, that illustrious Caribbean man, polishes our social graces, and lunch with our Prime Minister is an occasion to die for - his special dietary requirements satisfied by the Staff and students of our Home Economics Dept, right there, on campus.
Dr. Clarke is a man of innovation. He recruits severely physically and visually challenged students, because he says, "They have a brain and they have skills. They can do it!" Believe me, friends, like Bob Marley tells his patrons, "Get up! Stand up! Stand up for your rights!" After Dr. Clarke tells you that you can do it, suddenly, you just... Do it!
As regards Dr. Clarke's innovativeness, someone tried to research visually impaired PhD's in Jamaica and found only a few, including Sen. Floyd Morris and our very own Dr. Hixwell Douglas. No pioneer, but pioneer still. Yes, SSTC has produced a visually challenged PhD. I have no doubt others have since then achieved similarly.
My fellow mourners, pioneers might look chicken , but we are not. Guided by Dr. Clarke, we have been there...and done that. You're right about that.
Fluent in several languages, Dr. Clarke translates for visiting Guest speakers, and as students not a few of us regret having dropped out of Spanish or French classes at High School. Dr. Clarke was like that - he could make you regretful and hopeful at the same time. You know when you are in the presence of a great man, or an imposter soon enough. As Dr. Clarke once said, "Facta non verba" - Deeds not words.
In Dr. Clarke's Sociology lectures he drops us a googly or a kind of curve ball, that if the student has not learned, the teacher has not taught. Some of us surmise that this might have applied to some of his own Staff, and it did, however, everyone of his Staff backed him immensely. His success was in teamwork.
As we turn the pages...
My fellow mourners, you could pardon us for claiming Dr. Clarke so effusively and generously without a hint of fabrication. You see, some of us students were vulnerable, having come to SSTC at 18, 19 and 20, and needed help with a guiding hand. He it was who named us pioneers and gradually we began to believe it. For Dr. Clarke, college is not about sitting in lecturers and operating scripts all the day long, so we had to climb down the hill to form a youth club in Granville, read to the student at the local school, participate in Church activities, play in the Corner League football competition, at Pitfour, even sing Handel's "Messiah", at Flanker All Age School, for their official opening ceremony. Granville needed leadership and our leader wanted us to stand in the gap.
Speaking of gap, Sam Sharpe Teachers College is prominent in capacity building, by providing teachers who once stayed in the metropolises of Kingston and Montego Bay, now to fan out with pride into small communities all over, especially in Western Jamaica.
As we turn the pages...
On the day this great man passed, he might have made the evening news, instead of which a number of murderous scoundrels did.
Today, join me in a call to the spirit of our ancestors.
Daddy Sharpe, can you hear us?!
Dr. Clarke, can you hear us?!
Rekindle our spirit of love for our people, for our hearts are wet with tears, and we are weak and heavy laden. For you, our burden is light.
Dr. Clarke brought pride to Granville - young men and young women who were stuck in their communities now receive their qualifications on the hill, above the playing field. After awhile, the young people of Granville come to realise that Sam Sharpe Teachers College is for them too and they are kind, and they keep us safe, and so gradually they climb them hill, and they touch the hem of this great man's garment.
Granville! Oh, Granville! We bless you! For you are blood of our blood, sweat of our sweat, tears of our tears, and flesh of our flesh.
Dr. Clarke made the footprints of Daddy Sharpe's trails come alive. From Kensington to Garlands; Salters Hill to Tucker; and Niagara to Sandy Bay. Granville! Oh, Granville! Oh, Granville!
As we enter the final chapter, there is a proposal to name our college main street, the Dr. Simon Clarke Boulevard, as a fitting tribute to this great Jamaican. There are other proposals such as the Dr. Simon Clarke Early Childhood Diagnostic and Research Centre.
Let our children come to know of this great man's contribution to Education in our country.
We invite the Municipality to join us and if they drop the ball, we will refer to "Sam Sharpe Teachers College, 1 Dr. Simon Clarke Boulevard, Granville P.O., St. James., Jamaica, W.I.
Like Sam Sharpe the martyr, Dr. Clarke gave his life to save us from ignorance.
Dr. Clarke passed without a book of his own - hard copy. However, I hope someone has one somewhere.
If we Pioneers had our way, people like Dr. Clarke would be in heaven, the place of eternal rest. We who are believers, commit him into God's care.
Goodbye, Sage... Goodbye, Ndugu... Chief... Our Eminence...
We love you.
#
Share with others
