Up to early 1970, there was relatively a political calm in Jamaica. Election was a time of celebration with no fights over politicians. In late 1976 when the People’s National Party took power, there was a fear of Cuba’s communism coming to the island. The then prime minister and Fidel Castro were friends. This caused a lot of unrest members of the opposition party, and others were placed in detention and several residents were heading for the United States. This was a time when criminal activities started getting out of hand. There was a shortage of food, and the people were concerned for their safety. The then prime minister was not ashamed or afraid to tell the citizens that there were five flights a day leaving for Miami and those who were not satisfied could leave. Jamaica was my home, and I was not prepared to leave.
In 1980, the People’s National Party had the greatest lost a party could have in a Jamaican election. The people spoke with their vote, and immediately, the calm started to return but the trend of migration has continued over the years. Jamaicans love to explore and as soon as the opportunity arises. They are willing to pack and move. They are willing to give up good jobs without being sure of what the future holds. Migration is a part of the Jamaican way of life, whether to the United States, England, Canada, or elsewhere.
When the television became available in Jamaica in the 1960s, I was able to see some pictures of what American life was all about. But little did I realize that some of the pictures were not really as portrayed on TV. Because of that, most Jamaicans saw this place called America as the paradise on earth where everything took the snap of a finger to get done and where there were no poor or hungry people. Everyone lived in a huge house. There was no ghetto area or street people. In fact, life was a bed of roses. We saw all the decorations at Christmas and believed that everyone had such a glorious time when this season comes around, not realizing how many suicides there were and how many people depended on handouts. Why we had and held this concept? I don’t know. Maybe because those who traveled to America returned with this false story that all was so great there.
No one told you that survival depends on a credit card for most people. Even after people began to leave in droves during the 70s. This concept of America being a bed of rose still existed for some. Family would ship barrels to Jamaica giving the impression that they were doing so because they could afford to. When in fact, life was just as difficult or even worse for them here than it was in Jamaica.
It is not easy for some people to get up, pack up, and leave their country for a strange land. You don’t know what life is like there, whether you will be able to find a job, how you will be accepted by the people living there. Because of these reasons, my son refused to get a visa to visit America. He is not prepared to be a second-class person in a country where he was not born and where he might not be able to fit into this society. There are others who are willing to sacrifice their happiness, leave their loved ones, and move to another place to explore new opportunities. This is not different from a person living in Alabama who will migrate to California where he has no family but will go to seek a better opportunity or the American family who will pack and move to Costa Rica, Africa, Jamaica, and other countries because they want to experience living in another country. Migration is a way of life. It has been since creation and will continue to be until this world ends. Not everyone wants to migrate to the United States. People migrate to any country that appeals to their taste and situation.
People including Americans migrate to other countries for different reasons and feel welcome. Migration doesn’t mean that you are unable to live a good life in your country. It doesn’t mean that you cannot get a good education or achieve your life’s goal. Some people migrate or visit another country because they want to experience what life is like in other parts of the world. Migration or visits broaden your knowledge and helps you to understand other race, culture, languages, and ethnicity. People who travel are excited to meet new people, get to know the culture, and make new friends. They are not concerned about skin color or language.
Americans sing “This land is my land. This land is your land.” But most likely, they are unaware of what they are saying. If this land is both your land and my land, why don’t you want me here? You might occupy the land, but this land is neither yours nor mine. If the land was yours, let me ask these questions, “When you buy a portion of land, pay your hard-earn money for it, you have to take care of the land. Why is it that you have to pay property tax to the government? Is the government coming on your property to cut the grass, water your produce, or build you a house?” Let me remind that we are only occupiers of God’s land; and therefore, we have no right, as long as the law is followed, to tell anyone that they are not welcome in a country.
Americans travel to different countries every day. Some travel to countries where I would dear not to go, countries where they can expect violence against them at any time, yet they choose to go. I doubt that these traveling Americans ever hear the words, “Go back to where you came from.” The ignorance and stupidity that exist among Americans with “their claim to fame” of America being for white people only is as ignorant as ignorance comes.
Americans need to wake up. You are the only modern, democratic country that believes that America belongs to some special set of people and not to everyone, not even to some born in this country and whose ancestors came here centuries ago. When these people are told to go back to where they came from, where is that supposed to be? Are they supposed to go to “no man’s land” since they were born here and have no attachment to any other country?
Chapter 2
In September of 1989, I visited the United States for the first time and stayed in Brooklyn, New York. I was surprised to realize that people who had their homes in some section or maybe most sections of Brooklyn did not have a parking space. I believed that with the cold and snow, people would have the opportunity of parking areas close to or on their premises. I found it disgusting when you had to park several blocks from your home because all parking spaces were taken by others, even people who did not live in the community. I was not accustomed to anything like this.
I witnessed the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade which I think was fantastic although it was cold and raining. I traveled from Brooklyn to New Jersey on a few occasions. I noticed that a roadway was under repair. After three months, that roadway was not completed, and it was then that I realized that nothing was done overnight in America. Perfection took time here like anywhere else.
Christmas was spent with my aunt and cousins, and we really had a great time. Yes, I saw all the decorations but again realized that it was no different from my home. In fact, the malls in Kingston, Jamaica, were more decorated than stores and malls here. I was reminded that everybody does celebrate in a different way. No one’s size fits everyone
Vacationing in a country can really give you an appearance that doesn’t really exist. Going to the stores, I was surprised at the prices for food and clothing but did not know that the majority could not take advantage of all the things I considered to be cheap goods because they could not afford to. I did not even consider calculating the Jamaican dollar to the US dollar to see that there was not much difference in prices. No wonder it is said that a dollar is a dollar in its own country.
Things were not as it seems. I had planned to stay for three months after getting a six months’ stay, but by December, I was homesick and ready to go home. I was not excited about the cold and the snow, so I went home right after Christmas. I did not develop a love for this place on that visit. I loved my country where we enjoy a laid-back lifestyle, had one job, and was able to meet all our needs working that one job. In addition, we are able to save something for the “rainy day.” Neighbors look out for each other, care about one another, and are willing to share with each other. If my neighbor gets produce from relatives in the country, they are going to share. There is no need to worry about whether you are welcome in a community or not, unless you are a criminal.
The American life is so much different. Neighbors will pass each other for years and never say hello neither do they exchange names. Welfare and food stamp are not a part of our way of survival for the poor in Jamaica.
I also visited England in 1990 and left before the time I had planned to. As the saying goes, “There is no place like home,”