"A" is for Anta -Alphabet of Local Badass Women

The Women of Darra Jolof, Senegal & Jennifer Chase (Anta’s Birthplace) 1999

Beginning International Women’s Day and throughout Women’s History Month, I’m honoring my female-focused artistic work and some (there are way too many to count) of the local women with whom I’ve collaborated, commiserated, loved, lost track, poeticized, produced, and, admired from afar since arriving in Riverside in 1993. We’ll begin at the beginning of the alphabet… “A”


A- is for ANTA

I’m going to begin with two women who’ve traveled these Duval paths-almost two centuries apart—yet they’re connected… “A is for Anta” - Anta Majigeen Njaay and “A” is for Akia, the astounding performer, friend, and sister who brought Anta to life in my musical, Majigeen.

In 1998, while finishing up eighteen months of competing for a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship, I learned that I was selected for the honor of the award and would travel to Senegal, Africa that fall with my eight-year-old daughter, to study Wolof, live with a Senegalese family, and culturally immerse. I had proposed using music as my medium of exchange to build a cultural bridge between my city of Jacksonville and Dakar, the capital of my host country, Senegal. I knew that music was the language that could cultivate friendships and tell stories that illuminate diversity and shared humanity. That was all I knew.  I had no idea that the inspiration for that music would be an astonishing historical figure, a woman who lived just a few miles from my house almost two centuries before, Anta Majigeen Njaay, better known in my city as Anna Madgigine Jai Kingsley-. Months later as I stood in the infamous Doorway of No Return, on Goree Island in Senegal, I was overcome with emotion as I thought of her--not much older than my own little girl--  brutally torn from her family, home, dreams, and shackled and loaded as human cargo into the bottom of a slave ship. I knew that her spirit had returned home-flying over this majestic rocky coast. Love, lessons, empowerment, and inspiration finds us in sometimes the most unusual circumstances. I was certain that I was meant to honor her story. I wrote and recorded the single, “Anta Majigeen Njaay” and performed it with Senegalese Folk musicians, Les Frères Guissé.  It was one of the most profoundly important experiences of my life as a woman, a mother, an artist, a storyteller, and a truth-finder. A bridge was begun between our two cities through friendship, painful history, and music.

Listen now on Spotify below:

"Anta Majigeen Njaay" -Jennifer Chase & Les Freres Guisse (Dakar, Senegal)

 A- is for Akia

“A is for Anta and Akia” -By the fall of 2003 I had researched in Senegal, France, and in my city to write and ignite Anta’s story for the stage. My full-length musical drama- Majigeen was born. Many incredibly talented artists were willing to share their talent with me and show up at a reading of my play, but who could play the role of Anta?  Akia Uwanda walked through my front door with her little baby daughter, Akai in tow. Newly returned home to Jacksonville from NYC, a friend had said her voice was like no other. Hell YEAH! She picked up a lyric sheet, listened to my demo of Anta’s theme song, and three lives collided- Anta’s, Akia’s, and mine. Tears in my eyes, the hair on my arms standing up, lump in my throat. It was pure. I knew I had my lead, that minute, what I didn’t know is that I also found a sister.

B is for Babs

“B” is for Babs-2004 was the first time I heard the voice of Barbara Colaciello. She was directing Al Letson’s solo show Essential Personnel. I heard sex, certainty, and familiarity in that voice. I was drawn to her. Later she directed my oldest daughter, Chels in Chalk, and then there were her solo performances like Life on the Diagonal, an Andy Warhol impersonation, and talk.  Her work was important. Naturally, I was intimidated when she sat in the front row of a reading of my play Eva Chase Wood? (with Robert Arleigh White no less!) drilled me with her eyes afterward —with that voice of sex, certainty, and familiarity— insisting that I tell my own stories. I trusted her and never looked back. Babs worked with me as a narrative coach and director for two of my shows, Eva Chase Wood at the Cummer Museum of Art & Gardens and then my first and only solo performance, Renunciant, at Babs’ Lab. Working with her is illuminating. She insists on helping you dig until you find your truth. We are lucky to have her in this city. She gets the “B” in my Women’s History Month tribute.  

Jennifer Chase