In 2018 Selina Tusitala Marsh, then Commonwealth Poet, was commissioned to write and perform a poem for the Queen at Westminster Abbey. Here she looks back on an extraordinary day.
I heard of the Queen’s passing while in Port Vila at the home of the late Sela and Grace Molisa, following Sela’s own state and village funerals. Her Majesty last visited Vanuatu in 1974 and Grace, due to her lineage and trailblazing accomplishments in leadership and education, had met the Queen on board the Royal Yacht Britannia. Among her many firsts, in 1980 Grace would become the first Ni-Vanuatu person to publish a collection of poetry. Two things Grace and I had in common were that we both loved poetry and we both met the Queen.
In 2018 I was made the Commonwealth Poet. As part of that role, I was commissioned to write a poem for Her Majesty and perform it at the Commonwealth Observance Day in Westminster Abbey, London. At the time, I wrote about the experience in The Guardian. Last year I published a sequel to my memoir, Mophead, and titled it Mophead TU: The Queen’s Poem. In the book I addressed the dilemma of how to “tu” or “stand” at the symbolic heart of the British Empire as a person from the formerly colonised countries of Samoa and Tuvalu. What I didn’t mention were my personal impressions of Her Majesty in the lead up to and after performing the poem.
It’s the eve of the biggest performance of my career. There’s a “familiarisation rehearsal” at Westminster Abbey for artists who aren’t familiar with the cathedral. I show up at 8pm and am the only one there, and as a result I’m treated to a personal tour by one of the Abbey officials. I’m shown the tombs of over 30 kings and queens. I visit Poet’s Corner and marvel at the interred remains of Chaucer, and touch the commemoration stones to Shakespeare, the Brontës, and CS Lewis. Then it’s time for my dress rehearsal.
Mophead TU: The Queen’s Poem outlines how I met and broke the five rules set by the Queen. These are: 1) the poem must be titled ‘Unity’ (the theme the Queen set for that year); 2) the poem must include all 52 of the Commonwealth nations; 3) the poem must appeal to the 2000 school children gathered from around the country, and adults, including the various dignitaries present; 4) the poem must be under three minutes as BBC film it live; 5) the poem must not be political.
I’m shown where I’ll be standing to perform the poem. It isn’t where pop star Ellie Goulding will be singing Sting’s ‘Fields of Gold‘, halfway down the Abbey, well past the transept. Instead I’ll be at the apex of the transept, at the top of the Sacrarium Steps, the site of royal coronations and marriages. The Queen will be seated a few metres to my left. I stand there and do my fast-talking PI thang – I release all my Pasifika power and performance prowess into the enormous cavern of the Abbey and deliver ‘Unity’.
The Abbey official who gave me the tour approaches me.
“That was certainly a performance. May I offer some words of advice?”
“Of course.”
“You might want to tone it down. After all, you are being projected on large screens throughout the Abbey and beyond.”
“Oh. OK.” I respond, a little deflated.
When he leaves, the director filming the performances for the BBC approaches me.
“Might I give you some advice?”
“Sure.”
“Ignore him. The camera loves that kind of energy.”
“Oh, thanks very much.”
When he leaves, a man who I hadn’t seen observing from the shadows walks towards me.
“Might I offer my thoughts?” He might as well, every other white male in the space has.
“Yes, of course.”
“I’m one of the Queen’s personal assistants. I accompany her to thousands of events throughout the year, sometimes she sits through five events a day. You can imagine how tedious it can become, every day, for almost 70 years. I’m of the opinion that she would welcome your verve, your energy and you bringing your unique self to the stage.”
So that’s exactly what I do.
I was exhausted after giving it my all and sitting through the three-hour ceremony. When I met the Queen afterwards, I thought it extraordinary that she had the energy to ask a specific question about my performance and be present with me. No doubt her role in our lives in the Pacific and throughout the British colonised world has been problematic. But my experience of the Commonwealth gave me an appreciation of the increasing shift towards a kind of unity that enabled cross-cultural conversations, unmediated by the former imperial centre, to occur. The Queen was in service to these shifts. Her gloved handshake remained firm to end.
Books by Selina Tusitala Marsh can be ordered from Unity Books Wellington or Unity Books Auckland online stores.