Hard to live in an uncaring society

Hume Johnson, Contributor

OK, I confess that I am what country people would call an ingrate.

Let's admit it - counting one's blessings these days is indeed a task.

What am I to be grateful for? Eeeem, ahhhh, let's see: I am desperately trapped in a quagmire of debt - rent, student loans, bills, bills, bills. How can I describe my life but as intolerably depressing? I live in what used to be called a beautiful country with kind, caring people but now it appears that I exist in a wretched space where 20 years can easily be removed from my life span, thanks to the vultures of the criminal underworld and the paucity of my living conditions.

EXCELLENCE IS NOT HIGHLY REGARDED

I am 25 years old. Chronologically, this means that my life has now spanned a mere quarter of a century. I have a solid education. I have a respectable job and I undertake my tasks with dexterity. I have goals and dreams. I should be grateful but look deep into my eyes and you will see reflected the stress of a grim and barren reality. Poverty sometimes is misunderstood. Here is the tragedy of poverty that is most times overlooked: I live in a country rich in resources and talent, but a lot of that talent is ignored, stifled or undervalued. Excellence used to be our watchword, it is no longer sought because it is disregarded and unacknowledged. We were always a bold and confident people, hence the saying: "Wi likkle but we tallawah.' Sadly, confidence is no longer nurtured. We have confused it with conceit and arrogance and humility is mistaken for a particular brand of meekness and shyness ­ in other words, sucking up.

On the other hand, mediocrity, failing and flaws are rewarded. The leadership,

across a range of institutions, is not only archaic but fatigued and tainted. It bears the guilt of accommodating and complimenting inferiority. We have therefore become a society, not comprised of skilled, competent workers but of personalities. Of course personalities sell. However, we run the risk of sacrificing talent when we opt only for what sells. I would like to see us making personalities out of those with talent. We could therefore stage shows featuring artistes with a gift to share instead of those with questionable characters. I would like to see the publicists using their brains to sell these event. We could then create a society that teaches its young to give of their best and to expect the best ­ the best education, greatest courtesy, and the finest service, even from the cart men on the street.

BEGGING HAS BECOME AN ART FORM

We are light years away from this reality, however. At present the vitality and effervescence of youth is sapped by worry and the penury of their circumstances. Our humanity has been hardened, by beggars, whose arms are outstretched, not because they are without but because to beg is now an art form. Most young people in my age group suffer from a warped worldview ­ cynics and pessimists we are. The rest of us merely surrender to the routine of our morbid existence. Somebody ought to explain what happened because there was a time, not long ago, when we were being accused of being idealists and pathetic optimists. We were almost indicted for trying to change the world. Where has our passion gone. Has it been killed by an uncaring society?

Many of us are painfully realizing that there is no place for us in Jamaica and we are opting out. At the same time, we have been learning how to gauge our lives and to look deeper within ourselves for the things that will bring us joy.

For me, the quality of my experiences and the relevance of the lessons I am learning are what I am grateful for. Every experience that I have undergone has been an encounter in personal growth and particularly significant in my journey towards self-actualization. Indelibly etched within my consciousness is a powerful respect for Jamaica's poor and underprivileged. Their unrelenting desire to survive, to laugh and to reap joy in their lives make them the true believers in the bounty of life.

In my job as a producer at the Jamaica Information Service (JIS) I did a series of gut-wrenching interviews with victims of the deadly AIDS virus ­ an assignment I protested against covering, perhaps out of fear, ignorance or a plain lack of compassion. I spoke to, touched and hugged women, men and children with AIDS. I was, however, drawn to a girl who was no older than 17 who had apparently failed to capture the sympathy of the older women in the hospice. She admitted that she had been promiscuous, having sex with a great number of men. An overwhelming sense of sadness occupied my being. Undoubtedly, she was a child whose life once shone with hope and optimism. Her life is now a dark, desolate
wasteland.

I resented the absence of what should have been the guiding voices throughout her life. Sunken by deep depression, her face wore the stain of permanent tears. She searched my eyes for answers I could not provide. What could I have said to lessen her pain or reduce the inevitability of her death? Nothing.

ENJOY THE PRESENT, BUT HOLD IT LIGHTLY

I have not yet fully come to grips with this experience but I will never forget it. It has instilled in me a greater respect for the beauty of life, despite its
fragility. I have learnt to renew my compassion for the less fortunate but I have become emboldened by my belief in the capacity of our people to bring hope to each other. They say to walk, we have to lean forward, lose our balance and begin to fall. We have to let go our fake stabilities and fall. Of course, at the same time, we must trust that we will find a succession of new stabilities.

My advice to my peers is to allow the past to die constantly, enjoy the present fully but hold it lightly. There will come a time when we will have to let it go so that we may move freely into new experiences. I am grateful for nothing else but this realization.

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