Reflections on Jamaica [2014]

I took pictures of the wooden shacks as we zipped by on a narrow country road. They were small but brightly colored -- purple and blue, yellow and orange. I have been in no other country quite a picturesque as Jamaica. The landscape is stunning: hills draped in fruit trees, beaches and crystalline waters that sparkle under a warm sun, winding roads that spiral through the hills and curve along the bays offering intimate glimpses of families on front porches, food stalls proclaiming the best jerk in Jamaica, and bar after bar after bar advertising cold Red Stripe beer. At one of the programs we conducted I asked a participant – a man who had returned home after years in Canada -- about the sense of cheer that permeates the relative poverty in Jamaica. He said that Jamaicans know that “wealth doesn't bring happiness.” I heard the ethos of a simple life echoed by others: “If we live a simple life, we can find how happy we can be.” But all is not well in Jamaica.

The fountain at Emancipation Park has begun to rust

Banners for parties crowd out a call to a church event

The idyllic existence that Jamaicans cherish stands in contrast with the discontent with an economy stuck in idle, about corruption, about the growing gap between the haves and have nots, about the lack of opportunities. At the small shacks outside the hotel, the shopkeepers waited all day to make a sale. When I politely demurred, “no problem, man” they smiled cheerfully, “you’re welcome anytime. Hope you enjoy Jamaica.” In many of these shops the merchandise was the same jumble of t-shirts, key chains, magnets, mugs and pipes, much of it untouched and layered in dust. We’ve got all these folks setting up shops, said one of our hosts, but they’re all trying to sell the same thing. At the innovation program we conducted for the government on behalf of MIND (Management Institute for National Development), many said it was an eye-opener. The process of being able to see the familiar with new eyes and discover new opportunities was something the participants latched on to. We’re stuck with doing the same things, we heard, we’re caught up in rules and hierarchy.

Signs and rules – often whimsical -- abound in Jamaica

High rates of unemployment squeeze out the men, who are less educated. Men around here, explained a young man who was not quite 20, are just “gigolos.” They depend on women for getting by. “But why do the women fare better?” I asked. Because they stay in school, he said. Girls are held to a different standard said our host. “Boys are allowed to be boys but girls are schooled in responsibility from the beginning.” “Women are the womb of society” said the founder of Mothers of Jamaica, at the second session of the mentoring program conducted by Philomena (who also conducted a first session last year). The group made up of a pastor, teachers, social workers, police officer, shopkeepers and students were deeply appreciative of the tools and practices we shared. They worried about the next generation, young men caught in unemployment, lured by alcohol and drugs, and dependent on and abusive of the women who sustained them. “We want to create a new world with our hearts,” said a participant. The program, said a police officer, has helped me connect with people differently. “I see a lot of abused children. I want to help children know love.” “When we came to the program the first time,” said a community worker, “we cried because things we buried were released. Now we seek solutions. If I can help myself and our children, I can reach anyone. If we can become stronger, then we can move mountains.”

Participants at the Mothers of Jamaica Mentoring Workshop discuss their lives.

Portraits of local men decorate the walls of the community center where we did our training

At a conference session we conducted for government leaders on compassion, many said they had never heard the concept of self-compassion. When the session ended there were requests from the Cabinet Office of Jamaica to repeat the session for their staff. We need this very much, she said. Indeed, in spite of the good humor, Jamaicans are deeply self-critical. At an interlude at the conference, people roared in laughter as the performers (fellow participants who took to the stage) set up various vignettes of Jamaican characters and culture. Like the small shacks brightly painted Jamaicans put a happy face on discontent. “No problem, man” may be a national catch phrase but there is a problem and a deep desire for better, for more. … yet a desire for a future that doesn't compromise the values that Jamaicans cherish. The programs that we offered on leadership, compassion and innovation were eagerly received. There is need to embed this capability more broadly with everyday people -- like the folks who attended the Mothers of Jamaica session and the government leaders and staffers at the MIND conference. “Them don't care about We” said a taxi driver to my colleague Kate who co-facilitated the innovation program, “them only care about I.” A shift needed is for the collective “We” in Jamaica to take ownership of the change only they can bring.

Mentor archetypes created by children and adults in our program echo the same message of the need for caring

As I write these reflections, sitting by the ocean on my last morning in Jamaica, a small fishing boat heads out, slowly. “One Love” is painted boldly in red on the side. In a characteristically simple and colorful Jamaican way, Bob Marley offered his country and the world a way forward -- "One love, one heart. Let's get together and feel alright." Marley’s words are as good an expression of the path to leadership as I have ever heard … and far more eloquent than any I know. It is a call to leadership and love needed in Jamaica and the wider world across the sea. It is a message I am grateful for being reminded of in Jamaica.

One Love! -- Lyndon