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It’s all relative they say. And they are probably right. If our perception of time is dependent on the observer, and our measure of reality is not absolute, then how do we know which time are we talking about? No, this is not about relativity. Maybe it’s more about language and the terms we use to describe our perception of reality and our descriptions of it. Maybe our language (languages?) lumps into a single term related concepts. To a 3-year-old child 30 years is something like: Are you that old? to the 30-something it’s more of: in my lifetime, my generation. And to the senior, looking into the mirror: What happened? After that it all becomes a fast blur into the ever present: I remember and It was only yesterday. There are other measures of time that transcend the individual and somehow acquire a collective identity of perception. Nations, governments, religions, communities, tribes, families, associations, corporations, agencies, institutions and many other such groups have perceptions of time held in common.
While 30 years in the history of a group is a small part of its lifespan, the perception of that same period comes through the eyes of the individuals that are the group in succession. In time. You might say that the collective does not exist now, but through the present. An organic connection from the past, through the present and on to the end. We may call this collective perception of time: history, but it is the individuals that remember the small slice of time they are the group. Memories.
A group acquires collective perception as it develops a sense of identity or self from the fragmented memories of the individual component members interacting as a group.
And then it is. It may (or not) develop, grow and become self-sustaining. But it is there.
And only time will tell if it is a viable collective life form.
I remember a loosely knit conglomeration of friends, poets, family, writers, artists, musicians meeting here and there (mostly living rooms, basements, parks) and anywhere they would run into each other. They would share, exchange, challenge, amaze and out do each other and all those who happened by. Slowly developing myriad connecting relations that in turn would interconnect the ever-growing new relations. Slowly becoming a group, instigated, prodded, catalyzed by individual visions of the possibilities of new self defined identities, art forms and expressions of creativity.
The personal memories of the individuals that were part of group in formation are still in present tense, slowly evolving into generational legacy and lore. Perhaps a good time to commit to the record, while they are still fresh. Or maybe too soon. Time will tell.
The collective history is also coalescing. The institutional beginnings are part of the record. Some of which may be seen seen on other pages of our Web site. Others are part of the official (read City, State, Federal agencies) record. But as The Nuyorican Poets Cafe begins its 30th year, it is gearing up for celebrations. Individually and collectively.
To those that were part of those years, who have moved on, who remember, who have memories to share, Welcome Home! If you haven’t been around, come celebrate. If you’ve been here, Congratulations.
The events and celebrations will be detailed in the near future and some additional personal perspectives (or commentaries) on the next Our Nuyorican Thing.
Sam
In the Service of Poetry, Art and Community
[email responses and/or comments to: nuyoricanPC@netscape.net) or (nuyorican@mindspring.com; attn:Sam)