Contributed
I recently returned from a ten-day visit to Milan, Italy, where I participated in a remarkable cultural initiative titled Poetry and the Museum. Curated by the Casa della Poesia in Baronissi, Salerno, and hosted by dei Musei della Lombardia, the project invited poets to perform in archaeological museums across the region.
The organizers covered every expense—airfare, accommodation, meals—and I was the only poet from the Caribbean among participants from Italy, Spain, Slovenia, France, and Sweden. My presence there felt significant, not only as a representative of Jamaican literature but also as a reminder that poetry travels well across borders, speaking a language deeper than geography.
Our readings took place not in libraries or lecture halls, but in archaeological sites—majestic, carefully preserved spaces where visitors usually move in hushed reverence. The organizers wanted to change that. They believed poetry could make these spaces feel more alive and relevant, drawing in audiences who might otherwise pass them by.
My first reading began at 9:00 p.m. under the soft glow of museum lighting. Around sixty people attended—mostly older adults, with a sprinkling of families. I read from my bi-lingual translated collection La lingua รจ un tambura (The Tongue is a Drum) inviting the audience to join in a rhythmic refrain, “a drum, a drum” at key moments. This simple act of participation broke down the quiet formality of the space and replaced it with connection, the Museum swerving as a cultural bridge
Poetry, in this setting, was more than art; t was a bridge. It pulled people into the museum and invited them to see history not as a distant, glass-covered display, but as a living story.
During my presentations, I also spoke about Jamaica, its history of enslavement, colonialism, and the ongoing struggles that shape its society. Many audience members confessed they knew only of Bob Marley and Usain Bolt. They were unaware of the Caribbean’s deeper story, its pain and resilience. This gap in knowledge reminded me how tourism often packages a place for pleasure while leaving its truths untouched.
Milan alone boasts at least eight archaeological museums. Jamaica has just one national gallery—small in comparison to the multi-story institutions I visited. The contrast was striking. Italy’s preservation of its heritage is a source of pride and identity. Jamaica’s heritage deserves no less. Preservation as a Form of Reparation is crucial.
I believe part of any conversation about reparations must include the preservation and celebration of our cultural history. We need spaces that honor our past while engaging our present—places where poetry, art, and performance can connect generations.
Poetry is not only a cultural ornament; it is a tool for understanding and healing. Therapists often encourage people to write, whether in verse or prose, as a way of processing emotion. For communities, poetry can open dialogue, restore forgotten narratives, and bring people together.
Jamaica produces many gifted poets. We need to bring them more into the mainstream, inviting them, as in Milan, to interpret the past, engage with public spaces, and connect history to the present in ways that only art can.
In Milan, I saw poetry step into the museum and transform it. I saw it spark curiosity and open hearts. And I returned convinced: Jamaica, too, can let poetry walk boldly into its various institutions and retell the oral history before it is forgotten, and watch history breathe life into our culture.
Contributed By Professor Opal Palmer Adisa
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