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The blessing of butterflies

Jun12

My experience with San Francisco Carnaval began as a spectator.  My best friend paraded with an award-winning comparsa. In years to follow, we would go to Carnaval to watch the parade. I first learned of Fogo Na Roupa the year they were monarch butterflies.  I was stunned into silence as I watched monarch butterflies in flight.  I asked who they were.  I declared that someday I would dance with them.

 In the years that passed, I danced with other teachers. Due to my challenging pregnancy, I quit samba and didn’t resume that style of dance until my daughter was in preschool. I joined the group that had taken over the Malonga Casquelord space on Sunday afternoons, SambaFunk.  I was with them for five years before I made the decision to move on. I wanted to be part of a comparsa that would embrace my child and where we would feel validated and seen.  Fogo embraced us as a family. I was embraced as a woman and a mother. My daughter was embraced as a child.

 Nearly five years have passed and we are still with Fogo.  I danced with them during the pandemic, first on Zoom and then outdoors. I never did that with my previous group; I was only involved during Carnaval prep from January to May. I stayed with Fogo because they honor us.  They have seen me through my multiple physical incarnations.  In other groups, there is pressure to be a certain size/weight; sometimes people face body shaming and harassment. It’s refreshing to be accepted and celebrated as beautiful no matter where I am on my fitness journey.  Like any teenager, my daughter has struggled with insecurity. Her dance journey has included struggles with confidence and technique. It’s powerful to have her be in a place where she feels she can soar. 

I was drawn in by Fogo’s beauty and pageantry. What I really wanted was a family with whom to winter, rest and finally to soar. We found that home.  Muito obrigada Fogo for all the gifts you have given us.  I saw joy from across the street decades ago.  Hopefully I can continue bringing that joy to someone else. I know I will continue to take flight.  

Carnaval soon come!

Apr5

I’m going into my 5th San Francisco Carnaval. Being a carnavalesco has been transformative; it has made me more attuned to fitness, culture, and community.  Our Carnaval always falls on Memorial Day weekend due to the weather. When it began, San Francisco Carnaval was held around Mardi Gras time as it is in most parts of the African diaspora. In the tropics, the weather is beautiful. It’s a time to enjoy festivities and fatty food in preparation for a season of silence.  That timing doesn’t work in the Bay Area; the fog has even resulted in gray and cool Carnaval weekends. So in the Bay Area, Carnaval preparation takes place during Lent.

In every other aspect of my life during Lent, I am paring down to simplicity. For Carnaval, I am ramping up in terms of color and intensity.  I am creating characters. I’m working on costume, makeup, props, set design.  I am preparing for a street theater performance.

There are people who do Carnaval as a bucket list milestone and those of us who choose to make this a way of life. I have nothing against the bucket list folks. Everyone should perform onstage or take part in a creative activity at some point in life because of what it does for your self-confidence, discipline, and fitness. That could be just me since I gravitate towards the arts. For those of who become lifelong carnavalescos, Carnaval is an essential part of the yearly cycle.

A lot of people think performance means solo artist. When you’re in a Carnaval contingent, even if you’re a sambista or passista, you are not the star of the show.  As cute as you might think you are, Carnaval is about your community and comparsa. You are moving together as a unit.  Showboating diminishes the team effort. I may have to get Uncle Brooke on y’all this year (In The New Edition Story, choreographer Brooke Payne breaks down the importance of unity when you’re part of a group. He also gives Bobby a hard look).

Brooke-Payne-New-Edition

You tell ’em, Uncle Brooke

I share this critique because my Carnaval experiences have helped me better understand the value of community, both in dance and in spirit.

During Carnaval, I tap into several aspects of myself that otherwise wouldn’t be possible. What SambaFunk has offered my family in terms of friendship and dance is priceless.

Carnaval has become our way of life.

Beyond bling: the politics of Carnavalesco costuming

Jun12
For those of you who think feathers, beads, and bright colors when Carnaval costumes are mentioned, you are only getting about 15% of the experience. In my contingent, Oakland’s SambaFunk, our yearly theme has current political undertones and overtones. The theme is visually presented through graphic art, discussed in class to explain the choreographies to guide our movements, and pondered for those of us who want to take a more method acting approach to our characters.  Heady stuff if you were expecting that we simply focus on shaking our tail feathers.  And shake we do but always with a message.  This year, however, the villains in the epic battle between good and evil would be portrayed by the dancers.  Given all the time I have spent analyzing and strategizing about the real villains I have known in my personal life(When you have to go bad )as well as the real-life bad guys aiming for increased power, I was immediately drawn to playing a Janker.
A Janker is a cross between Batman’s Joker and a banker.
Jack Nicholson’s Joker was the inspiration for our characters
Jankers are the international(and domestic) bankers who have exploited communities for their own personal gain. They are currently above the law but the whole point of our presentation this year was that Jankers could be brought to justice.  In my mind, I began to think about Jankers in popular culture.
Damn Jankers
I also thought about an individual I know who I feel has demonstrated the manipulative and self-aggrandizing tendencies of a Janker. My character was created.
With character in process, it was time to focus on costuming.  Costuming is hands-on work. While seamstresses may sew some pieces of the costume, dancers must individualize and “bling” their costume.  As a “freshman” in my samba school, I was clueless about this process. I didn’t help with costume construction and only attended one “blinging” party. When I arrived on Carnaval morning, I realized how generic my costume looked beside others.  As with Carnaval makeup, the Carnaval costume can express character and theme. Four seasons later, I knew to be purposeful in finishing my Carnaval look.
The Janker colors were green, royal purple, and iridescent or clear. I was responsible for decorating my cane, top hat, vest, and pants.  After a tedious process in which M and I sorted several bags of acrylic gems by color, shape, and size, I chose specific gem styles to use in varying patterns.  I chose green circles to represent global domination.
Clear and irisdescent gems would represent wealth as in diamonds. Purple and green gems would literally represent jewels like emeralds and amethysts. The teardrop became my symbol of choice.
Top of my top hat
Back of my top hat reveals the purpose of a Janker
Purple rain of tears
What does that mirror reveal?
Striping on pants
As a result of Janker thievery and trickery, many have shed tears of anger, grief, and hopelessness.  So teardrops are the shape you see all over my costume.  I even placed teardrops near my eyes as part of this year’s makeup.

So while Jankers  as characters and symbols are bad, we sure did look good.

2016 Jankers: Making bad look good
Janker Dance at Oakland Carnival 2016

As I have stated before, Carnaval is a creative process that has allowed me opportunities to grapple with experiences and thoughts that are challenging in a way that is ultimately empowering.  Viva Carnaval!

Carnavalesco mommyhood

May25
I have sometimes questioned why I would become involved in a dance community while raising a small child. These doubts have occasionally been voiced by my spouse and my mother.  I am sure that there are other relatives and acquaintances who have kept those questions to themselves but who nevertheless look askance at photos I might share on social media. I joined Samba Funk when M was four. I changed jobs mid-year at the same time I prepared for my first Carnaval.
2013 Indie Awards candid
Somehow we made it work.
There are times when a dance class or meeting might run late or a party may not be all ages. But overall, M has been included in every part of the creative process that goes into Carnaval. She has attended registration kickoff parties, costume blinging sessions, and outdoor rehearsals.
M has benefited greatly from being included in the Samba Funk community from a young age. She has seen friendships form. She has cultivated relationships with several caring adults. She has been inspired by strong, beautiful dancers. Missed bedtimes seem a small inconvenience in comparison.
For the first time this year, M began to learn Afro-Brazilian choreography and took part in her first Carnaval. My daughter, already blessed with an innate love of life and confidence, has had a life-changing experience.
As I have already shared, Carnaval isn’t simply a parade or a festival. Lifestyle doesn’t even do it justice. Carnaval is a way of life.
To be a carnavalesco, you love life and the world and you express that love through dance, music, and art. I can’t think of a better place to raise my child.

More than a parade

May17
Last year, on the Sunday before Memorial Day, I rose before sunrise and began to get dressed for Carnaval.  I had asked to be able to sit on the float in full costume, my Wound-Vac covered in our theme colors.  I began the long process of applying my makeup.  As I applied the beautiful shades of color to my face, I began to feel sad. I had wanted so badly to be off the Wound-Vac.  True, I had never finished learning all the choreography. But the best part of performing in Carnaval is feeling a part of a body, a body of alegria and axe, a body which exudes grace, strength, and pure joy.  With the little machine literally attached to my body, I knew I exuded pain and weakness. I burst into tears and called my mom. “No puedo hacerlo. (I can’t do it.)”  She understood and plan B, which was to sit in the grandstand with M and my mom, went into effect. I took off my beautiful gown and donned my samba school tee.   I stopped crying, grabbed my camera, and headed to the parade.
The morning of SF Carnaval 2014

I cheered loudly for SambaFunk; they were magnificent.  I also cried. I consider it one of the more painful moments during my recovery from surgery. That was nearly a year ago.

I came to SambaFunk through a lovely woman I met on Dance Party. A brilliant dancer, she had asked me to check out her samba community sometime. I expressed mild interest; I had taken two samba classes prior to my difficult pregnancy and had always wished I continued.  A few months passed before I finally took initiative and asked when I could join her in class. On a cold January evening, I walked into the second floor studio of the Malonga and within two hours, I had found a second home. King Theo’s wisdom, love, and positive energy inspired me to take on this new creative and physical challenge.
After my first SambaFunk class in January 2013. Photo by Elise Evans
At exactly this time, I was preparing for a job interview. I would be competing for a vice principal position in a different district. I am convinced the energy I received through my dance class helped boost my confidence. I got the job. I was learning how to be a carnavalesco at the same time I was learning to succeed in a new work environment.  SambaFunk has been more than a dance class. The energia it provides has been a blessing.
Taking part in Carnaval has tapped into so many aspects of my personality.  I rediscovered the superhero in me as a Funky Gogo Love Bomber. I also learned half-marathons are nothing compared to parading nearly two miles in 6-inch platform boots.
GoGo Bombers doing their thing, SF Carnaval 2013. Photo by Yvel Sagaille.
As I struggled with illness, I reexamined the grace and power that is inherent in being a woman, beautifully heralded in my incarnation as a regal Star Mother.  While I didn’t get to parade in Carnaval last year, I was able to take part in the San Diego Brazilian Day parade.
SambaFunk, Brazilian Day San Diego 2014. Photo by Soul Brasil.
My mother and M traveled with me and stood proudly on the sidelines cheering for us.  With each Carnaval, I learn more about costuming and parading.  I also realize it is more than a parade.

Obrigado SambaFunk for welcoming my little family into your embrace.

Rambo and M, Pan-African Film Fest 2014
w M on the red carpet at the Pan-African Film Fest 2014
Thank you for the prayers and love you gave me when I feared the worst about my health and for your loyalty and support during my recovery. Thank you for helping me become the best version of myself.
Preparing for SF Carnaval 2015, M’s first Carnaval