Everyday Griots

This morning got off to a slow and grimy start with the heavy weather and the visitor center having no visitors during my shift, but the day became brighter when I left. It amazes me how fickle Cincinnati weather can be, especially at this time of year. Typically, I would get hit with seasonal allergies, both in spring and fall, but as I have changed my diet over the past decade, I have not suffered from any attack of pollen.

Once my shift ended at the visitor center, I hopped onto the Cincinnati Bell Connector and headed to the annual Art and Poetry event at Findlay Market. Findlay Market typically is filled with warmth, love and positive vibes, but it was something about today that really made me feel hopeful, hopeful about what's to come, both personally and in this neighborhood.

The artwork graced the place with a colorful escape from reality, but the poets themselves really colored the place. The spoken word goes back to the days of the griots of West Africa, maintaining tradition of storytelling, music, history, and the news of the day. The poets who appeared today have maintained that tradition in their own unique style. They are the reporters who tell the community about reality, what it is and what it can be. These are the community's unsung griots.