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DISPLACED​/​MISPLACED

by Norman Nawrocki

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Oleg Kozlenkov
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Polyrical
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1.
All refugees are welcome 04:56
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ALL REFUGEES ARE WELCOME The sky darkens with words of rage words that deny words that kill words that rain down like rocks onto those who flee for their lives Words that build walls of hate Words that lay coils of bloodied razor wire Words that dig unmarked desert graves Words that sink overloaded boats in the churning black sea When demagogues waggle their tongues, When racists spew their poison When fear-mongers trumpet their lies they ignite infernos of intolerance that replace our humanity with cruelty and ignorance hatred and bigotry Never forget: We have more in common with all the stateless, moneyless refugeed, homeless than with the privileged few who oppress Persecution knows no borders but neither does our solidarity It’s time to counter their lies, to stop the fear, the hatred, the poison It’s time to silence all those who deny others their freedom It’s time to light up the sky with words of solidarity, hope and compassion To build bridges of welcome To let every refugee and migrant cross them one shore to another To keep them safe and open for all our sisters and brothers Open the borders to all migrants and refugees! Open the borders to all deportees! Open the borders to all looking for a safe place to live! For every last migrant every last refugee! Everyone has the right to move! the right to migrate the freedom to stay! the freedom to return! Every last migrant Every last refugee Every last migrant Every last refugee
2.
We're pickers and packers 03:24
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We’re pickers ‘n packers of fruits ‘n vegetables Sprayers of cucumbers ‘n chicken catchers Factory butchers of pigs and beef Doing the dirty work ¬¬– so you can eat! Migrant workers abused… exploited to the max More arms to lose in the agro business machine More heads to wrench off in the belly of the beast We breathe pesticides – no masks required! Injured on the job? Don’t worry – we get fired! Migrant workers abused… exploited to the max Hoe those rows from sunrise to sundown hoe those rows boys and girls Pick those berries from sunrise to sundown pick those berries boys and girls Pack those boxes from sunrise to sundown pack those boxes boys and girls And when the moon starts yawning then you can call it a day (x2) Labour brokers set up short term hires Companies work us til we’re dead tired Use us to keep wages down, profits up Threaten to fire us – if our protests don’t stop Us migrant workers abused….. exploited to the max We’re forced to leave homes where hunger rules Hoping to return with savings of our own But they bleed us dry – and broke! For the privilege to be enslaved – no joke! Us migrant workers abused… exploited to the max refrain No citizen here would do this dirty hard work under horrible conditions, for the little they pay So they convinced the government to import us Cheap foreign temp labour to save their day us migrant workers abused and exploited to the max Now we’re organizing ¬¬– to protect our rights! every worker – migrant or not – deserves a better life! Health, safety ‘n better pay – are worth the fight! every worker – migrant or not – deserves a better life Stop hoeing those rows boys and girls Stop picking those berries boys and girls Stop packing those boxes boys and girls When the sun starts rising, it’s time to organize! (x2)
3.
Nothing left to fear 04:10
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As migrants, we fear for family left behind we fear for ourselves because we have no rights we fear because we’re classified ‘Illegal’ we have no papers, no legality we fear photos being taken ‘No faces! No faces!’ we shout because to know us is to deport us We fear because anyone can take advantage of us become our ‘friend’ and help us – for a price We fear that all we have left is our dignity and it’s always vulnerable In a shelter they tell us to sleep and shut up so we return to the street and we fear for losing ourselves We erect our own camps but fear that we are trapped like animals by prejudice and illegality We hunt for work, food and papers to set us free We fear the authorities each time they drive us out, trash our belongings and tents but we return and start again Everywhere they build walls of fear to intimidate us to try to keep us out We who they colonized, we who they terrorized, we who they abused, exploited and still shun Do they think that after all we have suffered a wall will stop us? That we will remain fearful for the rest of our lives? No wall, no barbed wire, no border can keep the desperate from escaping misery, pain, violence and death We will find the weak spots, the cracks, the light and we will push through We’ve been afraid too long Now we are becoming fearless with nothing left to lose nothing left to fear and nothing left to lose nothing left to fear and nothing left to lose
4.
Why emigrate? 00:38
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5.
They came at night 04:43
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I was there hundreds of years ago when They came at night They came in the day They came with clubs and chains bayonets and swords, pitchforks and torches, on foot and horseback I was there yesterday when they came They came at night They came in the day with dogs and guns, rocks, bottles & battering rams on trains, boats, bulldozers, in helicopters and tanks I was there when they came wearing armour, uniforms, blue suits, white hoods, black shirts and masks to hide their faces They told us to never come back And they drove us away, They drove us away They drove us away from our homes I was there hundreds of years ago and yesterday when they came with sheriffs, bailiffs, lawyers, cops, soldiers, engineers, officials, goons, the SWAT team They came with orders and papers, so many papers to wave in our face They said we had no choice no more rights It was the new law, old law, church law, king’s law, a special law, martial law, a presidential decree They said they came in the interests of the State, the economy, progress & public security We couldn’t understand They told us to never come back And they drove us away, They drove us away They drove us away from our homes I was there each time we argued, we pleaded, we tried to defend our homes They beat us, shot us, gassed us, hosed us, dragged us out, arrested & jailed us Threw our belongings into the street Locked and boarded up our homes Set them on fire, demolished them Took our livestock, burned our barns, destroyed our fields, our crops, our orchards Threatened to kill us They told us to never come back And they drove us away, They drove us away They drove us away from our homes We who once lived there now the displaced, dispersed, Like footprints in the sand like dry leaves scattered by wind like clouds chased across the sky like smoke from the chimney, gone The injustice, the injustice runs deep Where we once lived: now a rich man’s estate Where we once lived: now a corporate farm Where we once lived: now a huge dam Where we once lived: now an oil field Where we once lived: now a deep pit mine Where we once lived: now a settlement of others Where we once lived: now a desecrated mountain The injustice, the injustice runs deep
6.
The eviction 04:00
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THE EVICTION First we hear the ominous rumble of bulldozers. Then the telltale crunch of steel against wood. Neighbours yelling, screaming. Babies, children crying. Orders barked through a megaphone. ‘Get out! Everyone out! Now!’ We stumble outside into the blinding glare of police flashlights. In the chilly, damp, early morning blackness we shiver and hold each other tightly. A light drizzle is falling. Frightened shadows run everywhere. My brother and sister are sobbing. Sheer terror reigns Here, on the outskirts of the city, in our refugee camp, we once thought we were safe Now officers yank people out of their huts, swear at them, push them, jab them with clubs. Bulldozers attack shacks with people still inside refusing to leave. A merciless iron fist of destruction. We run through the wreckage, across muddy ground crouching, turning, to avoid being snatched by the police. Someone kicks me hard from behind. I land on my hands and knees in the mud cursing. A policeman clubs me on the shoulder. I scream. He hisses: “Dirty gypsies! Filthy dogs! Get out!’ In the confusion and the dark, we scramble up a rocky hill and half run, half walk away from the camp our home for the past two months. To think, 30 families lived here peacefully in 30 shacks bothering no one We planted flowers and gardens Now we flee with the clothes on our back I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve been forced to move from temporary camps like this one since we fled our country and arrived here We’d find a neglected piece of land. On the edge of a dump Where no respectful local would go We’d scrounge the garbage for scrap wood, metal and junk to build a small shelter. Add a plastic sheet for a roof. Home. No electricity, heating, plumbing or toilets. We use plastic bags. Now we’re exhausted. Hungry. Unsure where to go. We hope for shelter somewhere in the darkness ahead. My people, the Roma, call these walks ‘death marches.’ Our elders say, in the past, the Germans used gas chambers and ovens. Today others use the cold, starvation and disease. I call it ‘ethnic cleansing.’
7.
Home is 03:37
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HOME IS a bed to sleep in where you can cook food floors that squeak that motel there HOME IS this heated garage a bathroom to wash up in my pup tent by the lake somewhere to eat in peace HOME IS shared with family and friends my 10 by 6 foot room, no window a piece of cardboard to sleep on the tic toc of a wall clock HOME IS a safe place to come to each night our cave in a cliff outside town something I only dream about wherever my dog and I can sleep undisturbed HOME IS a reflection of you a quiet space away from the craziness what they stole from us a long time ago wherever I can hide HOME IS a place to fill with love my blue Dodge van under a piece of plastic a corrugated metal shack I built myself HOME IS two rooms that eight of us share under that fir tree a wagon our rotting house on the reserve HOME IS a big old tent tied to a tree a hot air grill only a memory under the bleachers in the park HOME IS a hole in the ground by the tracks where you can close the door my car parked on a side street a rolled up newspaper to rest your head on HOME IS a suitcase on wheels my friend’s couch a tarp stretched over a shoppin cart somewhere I ran away from a refrigerator cardboard box HOME IS a tarp stretched over a shopping cart where you can keep all your stuff family and friends a bus stop bench HOME IS where you can be yourself, as you are a cage I rent each night to stay safe a three walled room in a condemned building a place you keep neat and tidy HOME IS nowhere an abandoned truck in the dump under this picnic table a piece of plastic to roll up in HOME IS where I can raise my children an overhang under a bridge a downtown doorway a dream HOME IS my spot outside church door where you can sit in peace a suitcase on wheels a place I can never return to
8.
Domestic violence 00:45
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9.
My name is Homeless 04:49
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MY NAME IS HOMELESS My name is Homeless My history a fading memory My destination unknown My preoccupation: to make myself inconspicuous I wipe the shame off my face I hide my hunger-wracked body inside cast-off clothes I shrink into a lump of quiet resignation and blend in with the shadows I stay out of sight of those who find my living breathing presence offensive because when you see me face-to-face you see the ugly side of poverty and you see me as ugly not my situation, In the midst of plenty, poverty is ugly and dirty, it smells of all that’s rotten in this world of inequality so you walk by and ignore me you don’t hear me calling – for justice My name is Homeless My history a fading memory My destination unknown I represent shame and failure and all your fears because in this world of precarity you might live on the edge yourself you could lose your job, too so you fear me, feel threatened by me but mostly feel ashamed and try to shame me telling me to get a job but it’s not that easy, and it gets harder all the time To avoid looking at me you jerk your nose toward the sky turn your head at weird angles or pretend I don’t exist but I do, so you demonize me It’s not my choice to be on display always in the public eye, I can’t really hide or go home, close the door, stay out of sight So I bite my tongue raw to stop myself from screaming out my name but you walk by and ignore me you don’t hear me calling – for justice My name is Homeless My history a fading memory My destination unknown I live hard, I’m broken, worn down ruined by enforced poverty the death rattle an ever-present soundtrack my body tattooed by the knives of the cold-hearted You think it’s normal, acceptable that I exist like this? So many nights my bed is concrete my pillow a brick my covers cardboard, garbage bags & the darkest rain clouds of indifference My lullaby is the howling wind of rejection I’m invisible Each day I die countless deaths at your feet, unseen tragedies because who cares whether I’m alive or silent in the merciful black ground You walk by and ignore me you never hear me calling – for justice My name is Homeless My history: humiliation for trying to survive My destination: that deep hole you’re always digging for me in the shadow of your wealth How you want me to disappear ‘Bury yourself’ you say ‘We choose to share nothing not to house, feed or even take the time to dispose of you You’re too poor to matter anyway’ So I slip into that pit one haunted eye on all the others taking my place Where will they sleep tonight? In the glow of a new world that values life over profit? In your life sucking nightmare? Or on a pile of gasoline cans surrounding your palaces ready to light the match – for justice?
10.
Galvanized, too 02:31
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GALVANIZED, too Who? Us? We’ve been……. renovated gentrified upgraded degraded condomized pushed aside relocated vacated upscaled dislocated displaced replaced remodelled uprooted expropriated and disssss-po-ssessed! We’ve also been…. ejected rejected reno-victed privatized lied to de-stablized modernized repossessed swindled moved aside evicted excluded expelled restricted repelled and di-di-di-di-d-s-lodged! Hell, we’ve even been… discarded evacuated served papers ordered out distressed dismissed pressured leaned on coerced & bullied threatened & terrorized harassed by thugs and kicked right out! that’s right kicked right out! And we’re so damn tired of it Can’t take it anymore Landlords always pushing us around So next time when they try to evict us……we’re….. contesting contending dissenting challenging disputing defying disobeying resisting organizing protesting mobilizing rebelling refusing to move saying ‘Up yours!’ digging in fighting back and staying That’s right! refusing to move resistin’ the eviction digging in fighting back and stay-stay-stay-stay-stay-stay-staying You got it - we’re staaaying! that’s right - we’re staaaying! this is our home - we’re staaaying! we like it here - we’re staaaying! we’re tired of movin’ - we’re staaaying! gonna fight this - we’re staaaying! screw your notice - we’re staaaying! gonna barricade the door - we’re staaaying! not gonna move any more!
11.
What to bring? 03:26
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Mother rushes in slams the door behind her and locks it Outside in the street the mob chants, breaks windows, sets fires “Children!” We have to leave now! Quickly! Before they come for us!” What to bring? What to bring? What to bring? The bag, the big bag A spoon, a bowl some food, some bread The extra money hidden in the jar “The Dog, mommy, the Dog!” The seeds, the lucky horseshoe A pillow, a blanket Some socks, the baby’s toy “The Dog, mommy! The Dog!” Grandfather’s flute Some water, A knife, a cup, a pot, some tea? The necklace! The necklace! Don’t forget the necklace “The Dog, mommy! The Dog!” The boots under the bed The photo on the dresser The other photo My brother’s ashes Medicine for the baby “The Dog, mommy! The Dog!” More socks, more socks for the children The red blanket, a sweater, two sweaters a needle, some thread a towel, the small one, the blue one “The Dog, mommy! The Dog!” The bag is full “Hurry children! We have to leave now before they come! Hold hands! Don’t lose your shoes! Stay close to me! Quickly, run for the river!” “Mommy! We have to bring The Dog!” “Yes, yes, of course, of course, bring the dog, but run!”
12.
When I left home 01:20
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13.
When you leave everything behind 05:09
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WHEN YOU LEAVE BEHIND EVERYTHING YOU KNEW When you leave behind everything and everyone you know for whatever reason you can’t stay you need to go somewhere far away for work, security, freedom, shelter, You dream of a life that’s better, but all you find is more of the same, and….. sometimes much worse When you end up living somewhere new crawling with rodents and roaches walls growing black mildew crooked windows letting in the cold heating busted, fridge, too toilet leaking like the ceiling The landlord, your boss, won’t fix a damn thing It’s worse than anything back home You gotta take a deep breath….. When you take this dirty dangerous job and they call you an ‘ignorant immigrant,’ cheat you, make fun of you No one else will do this low-paying, back breaking labour They grind you down, say they own you charge you for the privilege of working It’s worse than anything back home (then you realize Take a deep breath, call some friends, raise some hell and together stand tall When you question the boss you get labelled a troublemaker & criminalized When you get sick or injured on the job they don’t believe you, say it’s all lies If you try to become a citizen they demonize you: “Bogus refugee, a threat to our values and religion” This is worse than anything back home When you’re undocumented, no permanent residence, no citizenship you’re isolated, easy to abuse and swindle on a farm, working under the table, in a factory, the homes of the rich on call 24/7, cooking, cleaning, living with your boss, paid little sexually harassed, worked to exhaustion Take a deep breath, call some friends, raise some hell and together stand tall (x2) If your refugee claim’s refused your temporary work visa expires you don’t have permanent status They can snatch you at work, on the street cuff you, detain you behind barbed wire Deport you and your kids or break up your family It wasn’t like this back home It’s one big sweatshop this land of the free poor immigrants and migrants exploited daily threatened with deportation if they don’t obey A giant pool of cheap labour to keep the economy going A legalized system of apartheid denying rights and services everyone else takes for granted The only solution: status for all! Legalize the illegals! Document the undocumented! Allow services and rights equally for everyone now We all gotta take a deep breath, call some friends, raise some hell and together stand tall (x4)
14.
The promised land 01:13
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15.
Once we were the 'illegals' 04:02
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16.
This woman had a home 04:38
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17.
Solidarity Across Borders 01:57
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18.
The Immigrant Workers Centre 01:12
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about

Montreal’s prolific veteran rebel wordsmith / violinist / badmouth of 30 years, Norman Nawrocki has released his 29th CD, DISPLACED / MISPLACED, a timely resistance music benefit album for Montreal's Solidarity Across Borders & The Immigrant Workers Centre.

MISPLACED / DISPLACED (Les Pages Noires, 2017) is a powerful, compassionate 18 track, 55 minute spoken word & music opus telling stories of refugees, migrants, immigrants, temporary foreign workers and the dispossessed forced to leave their homes because of war, poverty, climate change, racism, persecution, violence, fascism, etc. It includes capsule interviews of refugees, migrant & immigrant workers.

Nawrocki’s trademark growlspeak/sing song voice rails against the growing intolerance & injustices uprooted people face worldwide. Instead of kneejerk bigotry & anti-immigrant sentiment, Nawrocki offers a vision of human solidarity & open borders.

The music ranges from explosive, driving post-rock, post-jazz forays, to meditative lounge, country & eastern & ambient soundscapes. It's the protest soundtrack for our times.

Montreal musicians who collaborated on the CD include: drummer Aidan Gert (OSB/Godspeed); Matthew Justin (Hissy Fit, Half truth), piano & percussion; Sylvain Auclair (Heaven’s Cry, Karcius), Chapman Stick bass; jazz scenester Noam Guerrier-Freud, drums; Greg Smith (DaZoque!, The Pedals), guitar; Jayson Palolan, Filipino gongs/flute. Nawrocki plays cello, violin, piano, mandolin & more.

Since 1986, Nawrocki’s musical legacy is 29 albums both solo & with his many bands (Rhythm Activism, Bakunin’s Bum, DaZoque!, Crocodile!, Wild Plains, etc.), plus 34 compilations. His last album was ‘Heavenly Devils’ (LPN 2016) with his East European-flavoured ensemble, DaZoque!

Nawrocki is also an internationally-acclaimed cabaret artist, actor & author of 14 books of poetry, short stories & an anti-fascist / Roma refugee novel, Cazzarola! Anarchy, Romani, Love, Italy (PM Press, 2013). It will be published in Italy in 2017 by Editrice il Sirente.

The Montreal Gazette calls Nawrocki, ‘A local legend;’ The Globe & Mail, ‘A born showman.’ The Canadian Review of Literature in Performance says, ‘Nawrocki’s life and career would require a shelf full of books to document,’ while MAXIMUMROCKNROLL calls his work ‘Totally brilliant, absolutely essential.’

Nawrocki tours the world with his shows & teaches part-time at Concordia University about how to use the arts for community organizing.

All proceeds go directly to Solidarity Across Borders and the Immigrant Workers Centre. Hard copies available from their offices.
iwc-cti.org
www.solidarityacrossborders.org

www.facebook.com/DisplacedMisplacedCD/?refid=13
www.nothingness.org/music/rhythm
www.facebook.com/norman.nawrocki
soundcloud.com/normannawrocki
youtube.com/channel/UCKBVz0yppyWBrXvfal4PPsw

credits

released February 14, 2017

CD cover photos: Norman Nawrocki
(Bread & Puppet Theater performance, ‘History,’ @ the Montréal International Anarchist Theatre Festival, 2014.)
Artwork/design: Philippe Caron
All tracks recorded in Montréal
Field recordings by Norman Nawrocki
Vocals recorded by Greg Smith
Additional recording by Aiden Girt, Matthew Justin & Sylvain Auclair
Produced by Greg Smith
Mixed by Greg Smith, Montréal
Mastered by Ryan Morey, Montréal

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Norman Nawrocki Montreal, Québec

Norman Nawrocki is a Canadian Polish/Ukrainian violinist & composer based in Montreal, Quebec. A veteran of the city’s underground music scene & also tours internationally. Since 1986, he's released 33 albums (solo & with his many bands like Rhythm Activism, DaZoque!, Bakunin’s Bum, SANN, Wild Plains, Crocodile!) & has 35 compilations. He's also an author & a playwright. ... more

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