On winning

I have a huge amount of respect for Stan Burnside. I remember when One Family was first formed and he was one of the movers and shakers in the new group. I remember after the first Boxing Day and New Year’s Day parades, we had taken fourth in both parades. I remember the “Sideburns” that Stan drew. It showed One Family before and after the parades with the caption:

(before) And the Lord said come forth
(after) And so they came 4th

It showed great character to be able to stand up and take licks. Me – I didn’t want to hear anything about junkanoo, not for a couple of days, or maybe a couple of weeks. You see, that was the first time I had rushed organized Junkanoo, so that was the first time that my enjoyment of the parade was dependent on something other than, well, my enjoyment of the parade. As soon as the parade is over, there is that feeling of dread: knowing that your parade is not, in fact, over, but you have no more control over the outcome. Coming fourth, (or third, or even second, for that matter) can really take the wind out of your sails. Your costumes are fabulous, you’re out there giving the performance of your life – and it’s not enough!

Winning is not much better. Junkanoo is not like track where you can throw your arms up when you cross the finish line because you know you’ve won. Or like soccer, where you celebrate as soon as the final whistle blows. Even when you’ve won, you have to go through that same period of turmoil wondering which parade the judges saw, whether they are going to give you your due.

For me the whole competitive side of things added a whole new layer of stress to the parade. In organized junkanoo winning the parade underscores everything you do. All you do is aimed at scoring points with the judges. I mean, you can’t tell me as a junkanoo you aren’t affected by judges walking up and down the group inspecting costumes, listening to the music, evaluating the performance, if you are committed to winning. As soon as you see them you are going to make that extra effort, push that little bit more. The point is that there is a conscious thing going on there – just like there is on Rawson Square. Everyone consciously keeps a little bit in reserve so they can let it all hang out at Rawson Square.

Complicating matters is that you only have two opportunities to justify a year’s sacrifice. Added to which, winning is determined by aesthetic judging which by its very nature is subjective. Like everyone else, every parade I give my assessment of the top five or six places as I see them. Whether they agree with the official totals seems entirely hit and miss. And it’s not as if I’m going by different criteria for judging the parade – rules of the parade and criteria for judging are available on line for everyone to read (follow the links if you don’t believe me!).

It seems almost random. I can’t fault the judges entirely, either. They seem to be a reflection of society in general. Whenever I sit down with a group of normally right thinking Bahamians, all of us will have a different view on who won the parade. Also when the scores are as close as they have been for the past few years, it’s hard to convince me that there was any rhyme or reason as to why this group won by seven points out of four thousand over the next group.

So here’s the situation. You’re killing yourself to produce the most spectacular presentation, not just for the sake of it but also because nothing less than the best will win the parade. At the same time, there doesn’t seem to be a direct link between the quality of the performance and how well you do in the parade. All of this is an emotional drain for me.

There’s no grace in winning or losing in The Bahamas. When you win, it is your duty to lord it over your competitors. When you don’t win, you vociferously explain how you were unjustly treated. Not by accident, mind you. You were cheated or robbed of the victory. Now this isn’t only in junkanoo, but in any kind of competition. Junkanoo just lends itself to this more because you can’t give any clear cut evidence of the victory in the same way that you can in sports. The outcome is that even when you win, no one else thinks you’ve won anyway; when you don’t win, you think that you’ve won, but no one else thinks you’ve won. So is there really much of a difference?

Winning, losing – why is it relevant? I can’t imagine any of the junkanoo people I know pouring any less of themselves into the parade if there were no official rankings. In sports parlance, in junkanoo everyone leaves it all on Bay. Nothing is saved or held in reserve.

I’m sorry to say I don’t give much value to the judges’ decisions anymore. Again, I don’t blame the judges – it’s more a function of the subjectivity involved. What I mean is first, second, third, fourth, fifth even, it doesn’t mean much to me anymore. So when the parade is done, I don’t worry about how they are going to rank the parade. Man, I stopped carrying that burden long time. When I rush, I put all my junkanoo energy into the parade. Nothing left afterwards to worry about first, second, third.

I do believe that competition and standardized judging is an important part of the parade but right now all of that does not go so well with the Bahamian psyche. So what to do?