By Geneva Greene and Mariana do Berimbau
Memories of music traveled with my ancestors across the rugged seas from Africa to Brazil. The sound and instrument designs imprinted in their minds with images of freedom and family. I imagine that the memories encouraged their survival. When they arrived on Brazil’s shores, they fashioned the berimbau with materials found in the new land. Then, with each strum, the sound reminded them of their true identity, their humanity. When I hold the instrument, I instantly feel connected to my ancestors. The sound transports me to a meditative state shifting my view of self and the world. Immediately, I feel powerfully lifted and united with my African diaspora family. The berimbau reflects many facets of my past, present and future identity.
The berimbau accompanies capoeira, a martial art and dance originating with Afro Brazilians. My introduction and love for capoeira began as a teenager. I practiced for three years before taking a hiatus to study for university exams, then having children. During the pursuit of my master’s degree, I returned to capoeira. I found refuge in the art as a way to navigate the tumultuous university environment. When I encountered discrimination and hostility I turned to capoeira. The movements, songs, and community members strengthened me. Capoeira offered a space for mental, spiritual and physical fortification. My healing through capoeira elevated when I began playing the berimbau.
Academic spaces pose significant challenges for anyone who identifies as a non-binary, Black, mother and “favelada.” A “favelada” is someone identifying or born a female who hails from the favelas. Favelas consist of predominantly Black residents who often endure poverty, police violence, and other oppression. Activists like myself in Brazil, leverage their marginalized positions as “faveladas” to advocate for reform (Loureiro, 2020). However, capoeira movements and the sounds of the berimbau connect me to something even bigger.
Every time I play berimbau, I feel bonded with my ancestors and myself. I move beyond colonial definitions of self. The “afrobrazilian” label becomes small because I feel lifted. Human time constraints no longer bind me. My association with the instrument juxtaposes with my journey through life experiences and relationships.
To make the berimbau, one must enter and exit the forest to retrieve the wood. The journey requires knowledge of the land and how to harvest material. Next, making the instrument and painting it commences. As an artist, the process enchants me so much that the berimbau became my best friend. The knowledge that I learn through it and capoeira influences my position as a university professor.
In the university, I notice the significant disconnect between professors and students that we do not have in capoeira. The berimbau calls us together to a space where we intentionally connect in our authenticity. Our community honors oral traditions and knowledge embedded in our bodies both opposing colonial views of knowledge transfer. As a new university professor, I strive to apply the same practices in my classroom to bridge bonds with my students and create a space where we all feel free to exist and embrace our true selves. I cherish my bond with my Mestre in capoeira and hope to have similar relationships at the university.
Photo Credit: Carolina Piai Vieira
My artistry combines dance, music, poetry and capoeira. The berimbau acts as a thread throughout my creative work that centers and heals me. With each strum, I am inspired with new creative insights that unite me with my ancestry and purpose. The instrument allows me to transcend time and labels. My divine experiences led me to select Berimbau as my last name to represent my appreciation for what it gives me. May you also find spaces and practices that allow you to strengthen your mind, body and spirit. Our ancestors’ cultural traditions can guide us.
Continue reading other Diaspora Voices stories : “The Fruits of Solidarity That Binds Us”: African-Palestinian Diasporic Solidarity, James Lovell on Reclaiming the True Meaning of Garifuna Settlement Day and Tracing African Spiritual Roots with Christopher Newman