Tag: commentary

Race, unity and the responsibility we share

TRINIDAD and Tobago is a place of love, peace and unity, but at times on social media it can be seen that, unfortunately, race and political tensions get extreme. Comments sections become battlegrounds, old wounds are reopened, and narratives of “us versus them” take centre stage. While these moments may be loud online, they do not reflect who we are at our core, nor who we aspire to be as a nation.

TT has long prided itself on being a multicultural, multi-ethnic society. Our diversity is visible in our festivals, food, language, places of worship, and everyday interactions. For the most part we live, work, and celebrate side by side. Yet, when tensions arise they often expose underlying fears, misconceptions, and unresolved historical issues around race and identity.

This is where conversations about race must move beyond blame and into responsibility.

Understanding race and equality

Race and ethnicity are among the protected grounds under the Equal Opportunity Act. The law exists to ensure that no one is treated unfairly in employment, education, accommodation, or access to goods and services because of who they are or where they come from.

The Equal Opportunity Commission (EOC) was established to uphold these protections. Our role is not to police opinions or silence disagreement, but to address discrimination and victimisation when they cross the line into unequal treatment. We also have a responsibility to promote understanding, education, and respect across all communities.

Racism does not always appear as open hostility. It can be subtle, embedded in assumptions, stereotypes, or decisions that quietly exclude or disadvantage others. When left unchallenged, these behaviours erode trust and weaken social cohesion.

The impact of divisive narratives

Social media has given everyone a voice, but it has also amplified division. In moments of political tension, racial narratives are often weaponised. Communities are painted with broad strokes, individuals are reduced to stereotypes, and historical grievances are reignited.

These narratives do real harm. They influence how people are treated at work, how students feel in classrooms, and how safe individuals feel accessing services. They also distract us from the shared challenges we face as a country, challenges that cut across race, class, and background.

Unity does not mean pretending differences don’t exist. It means recognising those differences while refusing to allow them to divide us.

Role of the EOC

The EOC continues to receive complaints related to race and ethnicity. These range from discriminatory hiring practices to unequal treatment in education or access to services. Each complaint is assessed carefully, investigated, and where appropriate addressed through conciliation.

Conciliation is a key part of our work. It allows parties to engage in structured, confidential dialogue aimed at resolving disputes fairly and respectfully. In many cases, this process leads to greater understanding, policy changes, and improved practices that benefit not just the individuals involved, but entire organisations.

Beyond complaints, the EOC remains committed to public education. Through sensitisation sessions, outreach programmes, and public commentary, we work to remind citizens that equality is not just a legal requirement, it is a shared value.

What unity really requires

Unity is not passive. It requires effort, reflection, and accountability. It asks us to challenge our own biases, to listen even when conversations are uncomfortable, and to resist the urge to generalise or assign blame.

It also requires leadership, not just from institutions, but from individuals. The way we speak to each other, the language we use online, and the assumptions we make all shape the national climate.

If we are serious about unity, we must also be serious about fairness.

Moving forward together

As a nation, we have come too far to allow division to define us. Our laws, including the Equal Opportunity Act, reflect a commitment to dignity, respect, and equal treatment for all. But laws alone cannot create unity. That work happens in our homes, workplaces, schools, and communities.

The EOC will continue to do its part by addressing discrimination, promoting education, and advocating for inclusion. We encourage members of the public to do theirs by choosing dialogue over division, understanding over assumption, and unity over fear.

Race relations in TT will always be complex, shaped by history and lived experience. But complexity should never be an excuse for intolerance. Our diversity is not a weakness, it is our strength.

If we remember that, especially in moments of tension, we can move forward together with greater empathy and purpose.

For more information about your rights under the Equal Opportunity Act, to request a sensitisation session, or to make a complaint, contact the Equal Opportunity Commission at www.equalopportunity.gov.tt, e-mail communications@eoc.gov.tt, or call 672-0926

Holding parents accountable when children offend

The Government has signalled its intention to introduce legislation to hold parents legally accountable when their children are in conflict with the law, particularly in relation to bullying, violence and related misconduct affecting schools and communities.

In an emerging climate where youth violence and bullying carry human and social costs, a carefully designed “parental accountability” law can be a practical tool to reduce reoffending, strengthen early intervention, and ensure families engage with the systems meant to help children before harm escalates.

Currently, under the Children Act, parents have the option to bring their child before the court to deem them a Child In Need of Supervision (CHINS), thus allowing the court to have oversight of the child’s care and everyday well-being. However, a niche sector of children has found itself at the forefront of our headlines in terms of youth offenders and bullying in schools.

Why legislate?

A central weakness in youth offending responses is that the system frequently engages the child but struggles to secure consistent parental participation, especially where patterns of violence or repeated offending begin. A parental accountability framework is designed to close that gap by creating a legal lever to require attendance at interventions and compliance with reasonable behavioural plans, rather than relying solely on voluntary cooperation.

Properly drafted, the legislation can promote early intervention, triggering a court-ordered programme to offer early support, reduce reoffending, improve the home environment and supervision and importantly, strengthen school safety.

The government’s proposal can be framed as a public safety mechanism and child protection measure, not to be viewed as a criminalisation tool. When the objective is preventing future harm, the law can be calibrated to support families while still demanding accountability.

What other jurisdictions do

In England & Wales, there is the implementation of “Parenting Orders,” which focuses on behaviour change where courts may impose an order requiring a parent to attend counselling/guidance sessions and comply with additional requirements aimed at controlling or improving the child’s behaviour (for example, ensuring school attendance).

This model is somewhat implemented in TT, where the Children Court grants orders implementing counselling, curfews, and parenting classes. No legislation in Trinidad thus far imposes a fine or penalty.

Across the United States, many states have some form of parental responsibility laws, which can be civil in nature, where parents pay for damages caused by a child or criminal in nature, where parents face penalties for failure to supervise in specific circumstances. The US Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention (OJJDP) describes these laws as aiming to involve parents by holding them liable in different ways for delinquent behaviour.

TT can borrow civil-style measures such as orders, mandated programmes, and limited penalties, where fines exist, and apply caps. As with every offence, exceptions can be considered to include a “reasonable steps” defence, so parents are not punished where they genuinely tried to supervise and seek help.

If TT is to legislate in this space, the design details will determine whether it reduces youth offending or simply adds controversy. A strong approach can include a “support first, sanctions last” approach, where it begins with mandatory parenting sessions, counselling, school attendance plans and case management. Sanctions (fines or community-based penalties) can be a last resort for persistent non-compliance.

The government is equipped to bring this type of legislation into place, having introduced the suite of children’s legislation during its last tenure. The intended law should not be activated for minor misbehaviour but should apply where a child can be and has been charged/convicted of specified offences, or there is repeated serious misconduct.

Parents should not be punished where they can show they took reasonable steps, such as seeking help, co-operating with school/authorities, attending programmes, and trying to supervise. This protects parents who sometimes have to deal with a child’s mental health needs.

Why implementation is justified

TT has an opportunity to craft a framework that reflects a simple truth: youth offending is often the end-stage of problems which began earlier (poor supervision, family stress, unmet mental health needs, and community violence exposure). A parental accountability law can give the state a mechanism to compel engagement before a child’s pathway hardens into repeated offending.

It is about structured responsibility and early intervention. When paired with real services and sensible safeguards, such a law can protect victims, support families, and improve outcomes for children who are at risk of cycling deeper into the justice system.

Denelle Singh is an attorney-at-law

Caricom framework for stabilising Haiti

I recently visited Haiti in a professional capacity connected to my work with an international organisation. Like many visitors before me, I was struck not only by the scale of that country’s challenges, but by the profound mismatch between those challenges and the evident character of the Haitian people.

Haiti is often described as a failed state. That description, while convenient, is incomplete. What has failed is not the people, the land, or the culture. What has failed over generations is governance.

Driving through Haitian cities, one sees uncollected garbage piled high, informal food vending taking place amid unsafe conditions, and public spaces that appear abandoned by the state. Yet within this disorder, one also sees constant work, creativity, resilience, and dignity.

People trade, send their children to school, build, cook, repair, and innovate daily. The land itself is fertile. The human potential is unmistakable. This contradiction points to a single missing link, a functioning, trusted system of governance capable of co-ordinating effort, enforcing basic order, and delivering public services predictably.

Haiti does not need saving. It needs scaffolding.

For decades, the international community has oscillated between disengagement and heavy handed intervention, neither of which has produced durable results. Western-led solutions are now widely mistrusted, and unilateral control by any single country would almost certainly be rejected. Doing nothing, however, guarantees continued collapse.

There may be a third path, one rooted in regional solidarity, functional pragmatism, and time-bound stewardship.

I propose that Haiti, with its consent, enter into a temporary Caricom-led governance compact, supported technically and financially by the United Nations and other partners.

Under this model, Caricom member states and regional partners would not govern territory, but would co-steward specific state functions alongside Haitian counterparts for a fixed period, perhaps ten years, with clear benchmarks and a defined exit.

Illustratively, this functional stewardship could include:

• National Security and Policing – supported by Jamaica, focusing on professional standards, community policing, accountability, and command discipline.

• Justice and Corrections – supported by Trinidad and Tobago, strengthening court administration, case processing, and humane, secure corrections systems.

v Public Administration, Revenue, and Customs – supported by Barbados, restoring civil service discipline, procurement integrity, and predictable state revenue.

• Health Services – supported by Barbados and regional partners, stabilising primary care, public health delivery, and hospital administration.

• Education and Skills Training – supported by Barbados and the OECS states, focusing on curriculum standards, teacher training, vocational education, and workforce certification, recognising education and skills development as critical levers for long-term national transformation.

• Public Works and Municipal Services – supported by Guyana, Suriname, and Dominica, including roads, drainage, waste management, climate resilience, and local infrastructure delivery.

• Tourism Development – supported by Jamaica, St Lucia, and the Bahamas, restoring regulatory frameworks, safety standards, and community-linked tourism opportunities.

• Agriculture and Food Security – supported by Guyana, Belize, Grenada, and St Vincent and the Grenadines, strengthening production, agro-processing, and rural livelihoods.

• Investment, Commerce, and Permitting – supported regionally, creating transparent one-stop investment processes, predictable commercial rules, and investor confidence.

• Culture, Social Welfare, and Sport – supported by Trinidad and Tobago, Jamaica, and St Lucia, recognising the central role of cultural identity, youth development, social protection, and sport in national cohesion, crime prevention, and dignity restoration.

• Labour Mobility and Workforce Integration – supported regionally, in partnership with the Dominican Republic, facilitating skills training, certification, and managed labour mobility programmes that allow Haitian workers to contribute legally and productively to labour-short Caribbean economies while earning income, experience, and dignity.

Haiti possesses one of the region’s largest untapped labour forces. With structured skills training and lawful mobility pathways, this workforce could become a driver of growth across the Caribbean, particularly in construction, agriculture, tourism, care services, and public works. This while easing migration pressures and strengthening regional integration.

Importantly, this effort should begin where trust is rebuilt fastest, visible public order. Waste management, drainage, street lighting, regulated vending, and community maintenance are not cosmetic concerns.

These are signals of state presence and competence. When order is tied to jobs, income, and dignity, behaviour changes rapidly. Once people see that a system works and rewards participation, compliance follows.

This model preserves Haitian sovereignty, avoids domination by any single external power, shares responsibility across the Caribbean, and offers Haiti something it has long been denied, a stable, predictable container in which its people can thrive.

Andrew P. Anderson is a facilities, project management and construction professional.

Remembering who we are

Dr Gabrielle Jamela Hosein

A PEOPLE’S aspirations can never be defeated. This is the lesson of our history.

I’ve written repeatedly about how divided we are in Trinidad and Tobago – by class, geography, race, and more. This did not start today, and it has not been helped by those in government – this, the last, or those before.

This division shows itself in a thousand ways: the abandonment of rural and south Trinidad from necessary infrastructure like access to pipe-borne water, paved roads, and completed schools, despite pleading and protest. It shows itself in statements thrown back and forth – from the racist “go back to Africa” from those believing they live in “UNC country” to those in the PNM who look at Indo-Trinidadian citizens and disparagingly “wonder if we’re living in Bangladesh or Delhi.”

We are separated by numerous systemic and historical superiorities and inequities, and everyone impatiently galleries with the little bit of power they have.

A major challenge is that what some read as racist is often not recognised or affirmed as so or is downplayed by others – though examples abound on all sides in how we debate on social media; in how we weaponise each other’s “government name;” in the eras during which we find our voices and speak out and the eras during which we don’t; and the issues we consider important or not and how we interpret them.

At times, we do not even properly understand what upsets our “other,” and we fail to focus on bridging the experiences, fears, and rhetoric that make us disagree.

Social media has made it worse because we do not have to “live good with each other” online – and typing comments is a terrible substitute for talking, but also because media and blogging culture thrives off clickbait, big reveals, echo chambers, and posts that amplify dismissiveness, disinformation, obfuscation, and a sense of threat, anger, and exclusion.

These are perilous times for public deliberation if we don’t see the urgency of crossing these divides by connecting our common ground.

Caribbean organising which crosses boundaries – bringing us together over shared concerns, whether in relation to women, artists, domestic workers, ecological destruction, agriculture, sports, or peace requires courageous engagement with those whom we consider different and, sometimes, denigrating.

It requires movements born out of the hard work of consensus-building. It requires understanding who we are such that we can see our strengths and common values and counter the modus operandi of those whose bread and butter is stoking what Professor Emerita Rhoda Reddock theorises as a politics of “competing victimhoods” and a world of vastly different and partial grasps of the same reality.

Indeed, who are we?

We are the thousands who sell in our markets each week, carrying what we have grown across the region by boat, and commonly believing that “everybody have to eat,” in putting a little extra, and in building social relationships out of economic transactions. The same people, excluded from banking, who found ways to save using sou sou hands; grounding a grassroots practice built on trust, mutuality, and shared betterment as a local ethos.

We are indigenous communities – from the Amerindians in Guyana to the Maroons of Suriname to the Garifuna of St Vincent, the Kalinago of Dominica, the Maya of Belize, and Trinidad’s First Peoples – who believe in collectivism, communal land, co-operatives, and models that counter individualism and disconnection.

We are people who believe in the arts as sites of collective and home-grown spirituality, skill, and transcendence – whether pan, tassa, dance, literature, theatre, oral traditions, and traditional forms of commemoration, masquerade and celebration that bring multi-ethnic histories to culture, sharing it so generously across our territories.

We are people who believe in care for others, as witnessed by the thousands of citizens who contribute to food, healthcare, homes, counselling and much more to those in need – whether locally amid floods or everyday poverty, or in Dominica, Cuba, Jamaica, or Haiti following disasters.

We aspire to peace. We aspire to treat each other with dignity. We aspire to regionality. We aspire to justice. In the face of political elites, multinational corporations, and Monroe Doctrine militarism, we aspire to self-determination.

We can fight each other or mediate a unity that exists around what we value and all to which we aspire. Even as no one can take these aspirations from us, no one will do the work for us, not governments, politicians, militaries, or foreign powers.

Take a breath. Find your best self. Understand well what we most must do.

Diary of a mothering worker

Entry 571

motheringworker@gmail.com

First step to ending domestic violence

‘We cannot wait until a relationship becomes toxic, until a threat is made, or until the news reports another murder-suicide to respond. By then the crisis has already taken root’

SUSAN SYLVESTER-BARKER

TT IS facing an emotional and psychological crisis that is robbing us of our citizens. How do we fix this? Can we fix this? And most importantly, where do we begin?

Our nation continues to be shaken by murder-suicide incidents involving intimate partners from every walk of life. These heartbreaking events are not isolated; they reflect a deeper, growing despair within our society. A quiet darkness is spreading, one where some individuals have come to believe that the only path to peace is to end their own lives, or, tragically, the lives of those they once claimed to love.

This is not simply a crime problem. This is a human problem. A psychological crisis. A breakdown in emotional resilience, healthy coping mechanisms, and understanding of self.

Advocates have been calling for stronger support for domestic violence victims, for open conversations from the ground up, real conversations that can shift mindsets and produce lasting change for both victims and perpetrators. But to create meaningful impact we must start at the root: the internal emotional and biological forces driving people toward hopelessness, rage, and destruction.

To understand how we reached this point, we must first understand ourselves. Human beings are emotional, biological, and psychological creatures. Our choices, reactions, and relationships are shaped not only by upbringing or circumstance, but by powerful internal systems that most people know very little about.

When a person experiences rejection, fear, abandonment, stress, or emotional overwhelm, the brain shifts into survival mode. Chemicals such as dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, cortisol, and hormones like testosterone and estrogen begin influencing how we perceive reality.

Without proper emotional awareness, these internal reactions can cause:

• distorted thinking

• irrational decisions

• intense attachment to the wrong people

• dependency disguised as love

• fear interpreted as betrayal

• hopelessness that feels inescapable

When these emotions go unmanaged and unaddressed, they can escalate into destructive behaviour – toward oneself or toward others. This is how conflict becomes violence, and how emotional collapse becomes tragedy.

We must no longer treat emotional health as optional. It is essential to our survival as a people.

Why our approach is not working

We cannot wait until a relationship becomes toxic, until a threat is made, or until the news reports another murder-suicide to respond. By then the crisis has already taken root.

Our society often focuses on punishment, blame, and shame. But we rarely focus on prevention, on education, on teaching people how the mind works, how to manage feelings, how to regulate the body under stress, or how to recognise the signs of emotional unravelling.

Victims frequently do not understand the warning signs. Perpetrators often do not understand their own triggers. Families see changes but don’t know how to intervene. Communities observe suffering but do not know where to send people for help.

This is not a failure of character. This is a failure of knowledge.

Understanding the root: Emotional and biological triggers

When individuals are emotionally wounded or carrying unprocessed trauma, they may interpret everyday events through the lens of fear, shame, or insecurity. A simple disagreement becomes a threat. A break-up becomes abandonment. A partner’s independence becomes disrespect.

For individuals with narcissistic behaviours or traits:

• control feels like safety

• dominance feels like stability

• validation feels like oxygen

• and losing a partner feels like psychological death

This is why some respond with rage, violence, or self-destruction when they lose control of the relationship. This is not an excuse; it is a warning of a deeper emotional imbalance that must be addressed earlier.

If we do not understand these dynamics, how can we ever intervene effectively?

So where do we begin?

We begin by acknowledging that this crisis cannot be solved through law enforcement alone. We must empower our citizens with knowledge, the kind of knowledge that can reshape lives.

We need:

1. Emotional literacy in schools and communities:
Teach children, teenagers, and adults how their brain works, how emotions influence choices, and how to regulate themselves.

2. Trauma-informed programmes for victims and perpetrators: Both sides need guidance, support, and skilled intervention.

3. Safe, accessible support systems: Confidential, affordable, stigma-free avenues where people can seek help before a crisis unfolds.

4. Conversations that break shame and silence: If people are not aware of or cannot talk about their emotional struggles, they cannot heal from them.

5. National campaigns that focus on prevention, not reaction: The real solution is not after the tragedy; it is in the education we provide long before. Educate the horse while in the stable, not when it leaves and is galloping wild trampling on everyone in it’s path.

A nation cannot heal if its people do not understand themselves

We are losing sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, and partners because our people do not know how to navigate their inner world. They are emotionally overwhelmed, biologically dysregulated, and psychologically unprepared for the pressures of modern life and relationships.

Until we address this, until we teach people why they feel what they feel, why they think what they think, and how to cope in healthy ways, the cycle will continue.

Until we teach them a different way to live, with purpose, peace and self-love, we will continue to be emotionally imprisoned, generation after generation.

It doesn’t have to be this way. This can change. And it begins with awareness. It begins with education. It begins with us.

Let’s have that conversation now, for the greater good of our people.

Susan Sylvester-Barker is a consultant on narcissistic abuse (ttnawh@gmail.com)

Reconstructing masculinity

HAZEL THOMPSON-AHYE

I WRITE THIS as the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women comes to an end, but the violence against women continues. Perhaps the state of emergency (SoE) prevented us from staging our usual march to commemorate those women who live perpetually in their private SoE. How many more must die?

Today, my heart hurts for the family of Councillor Romona Teeneal Victor, the latest domestic violence victim and I remember my client, June Edwards, who, about 40 years ago, died in similar circumstances. My client’s husband, after stabbing her, had committed suicide by drinking poison.

I had thought that the injunction granted by the court, which ordered him to leave and not re-enter the matrimonial home, would have saved her, but the law was not enough. I was inconsolable at her funeral and through my veil of tears I could see the deadpan faces of her young children, all of primary school age.

The evening before her death, as she was leaving my office, she had apologised for keeping me out so late. I had told her, “Don’t worry about me. I am worried about you.” The next morning, as I entered the office, my colleague had greeted me, saying, “Your client dead. Her husband killed her. He drank poison. He dead too.”

Since then I have told my clients to leave the home, even if they have to leave everything behind. “Just leave. Save your life.” But the reality is that some have no place to go. Others are so immobilised by fear, they cannot take that “giant step for (wo)mankind.”

Men are not beyond redemption, but they need help. I have counselled my male clients, telling them, “If it is over, it is over. You can find love again.” After I had reprimanded one for stalking his wife, he told me that I reminded him of his primary school teacher. I confessed to him that I had been a primary school teacher.

Some months later, I saw him at an event at the stadium. He hailed me out and was looking very happy, with a new lady love in tow.

One of the best compliments I received was from a very troublesome male client, who told me he had changed plenty since meeting me. He had received enough buffs. His pastor had described him as “a work in progress.” Years later, he still sends me biblical tracts to encourage me to convert to his religion.

Lawyers need to be responsible in their interaction with their clients. Once, when we had not reminded the judge to continue the injunction, a lawyer told his client that nothing prevented him from re-entering his home. His client went home and fractured his wife’s skull with a hammer. Years later, I helped that lawyer up when his relative had knocked him down outside the chamber court after their family property dispute.

Girls need to be educated and trained to recognise the signs of an abuser. Boys, too, need that type of education and training, as they, too, can fall victim to domestic abuse. Boys need to be taught that men and women are equal but different. UWI Laboratory Pre-School taught boys and girls that important principle. That training should be replicated in all pre-schools in this country.

The Domestic Violence Act has been improved over the years, but the police still do not fully recognise that domestic violence is a crime to be investigated and treated as any other crime, regardless of the lack of co-operation from the victim. When will they learn?

In memory of domestic violence victims, I am submitting for publication my calypso, Ah Reconstructing Masculinity, which I wrote in honour of Prof Eudine Barriteau, principal of UWI, Cave Hill, Barbados, when I was awarded a British Council scholarship to pursue her course in gender and development studies. She had a calligrapher design the poem, then had it framed and placed on the wall of her office. She told me that when Prof Rex Nettleford visited her office and read it, he had said how much he loved it.

Ah Reconstructing Masculinity

Ah put mih husband hard hat on

Take up he tool kit from off the ground

Ah slip on he steel-tip shoe

He say, “Way you going in true?

Dress up in that funny gear

Like you eh have better clothes to wear.”

Ah take mih son by he hand

Ah say, “Ah going to make him a man.”

 

Chorus

Ah reconstructing masculinity

Building a man with gender sensitivity

A man who won’t beat, won’t kill, won’t hurl obscenity

But will be kind and gentle and have empathy.

 

Verse

“But why you put on mih hard hat

Ah really can’t see the reason for that.”

“Dat is to protect mih brain

From all the stupid things people going be saying.

Once you try to bring about change

People like to say that you going insane

Ah going to train mih son a new way

And ah sure ah won’t make him gay.”

 

Chorus

Ah reconstructing masculinity

Building a man with gender sensitivity

Ah confident man, who’ll clearly understand

Best man for a job is sometimes a woman.

 

Verse

“Tell mih why you put on mih heavy boot

You really look like de Puss in troot.”

“De heavy boot is to stamp out

All the foolish ideas dat going about

Dat a man must show power and dominate

He must decide every woman’s fate.

Ah real man doh beat up he wife and child

But stands loving and supportive at dey side.”

 

Chorus

Ah reconstructing masculinity

Building a man with gender sensitivity

Who know women’s place not always in the home

Can be in the House of Representatives giving tone.

Verse

“Tell me what you want wid mih tool kit

Please tell me what you gwine do with it.”

“It have screw driver and it got pliers

To cut out the tongues of all dem liars.

Who say women don’t appreciate

Men who could cook and could make good bake.

Ah want a man who could show that he care

In a million ways without any fear.”

 

Chorus

Ah reconstructed masculinity

Ah proud ah mih son with gender sensitivity

He show love to he wife and to de children too

“No outside woman,” he say, “Wifey, just me and you.”

 

Extra verse – 2025

Trinbago reconstructed masculinity

Look around in the republic and you will see

The President is a woman sweet and kind.

The Prime Minister will buss yuh head and beat your behind.

The Opposition Leader, a female waiting in the wings

To topple the PM, she must do many things.

Is time we get a woman as minister of finance

We manage money better, so give we a chance.

Reflections on the national budget

NIGEL GITTENS

With the budget debate in Parliament now concluded, it seems timely to assess both the strengths and weaknesses of the fiscal measures announced, and to evaluate whether this financial plan can realistically move the nation toward greater economic stability and growth.

Although initial reactions across society would have described this budget as fair to the ordinary citizen, many are now realizing it largely mirrors budgets of previous years.

Once again, revenue expectations depend on overly optimistic assumptions about oil and gas prices – our primary sources of income.

There is also the recurring complaint that while some concessions were offered, they are effectively offset by increased taxes on essential goods and services.

Outlined below are several of my

key areas of concern:

• Rising tax burdens – consumers will inevitably face higher costs from new or expanded taxes, including those on landlords, customs and excise duties, general sales, alcohol, and liquefied propane gas.

• Lack of a clear diversification strategy for the onshore economy, leaving the country still overly dependent on energy.

• Tax collection effectiveness – it remains uncertain whether the Inland Revenue Division can achieve its revenue goals given its internal restructuring challenges and the local culture of tax evasion and avoidance.

• National Insurance Scheme reforms – it is doubtful that the proposed adjustments will succeed in stabilizing the system amid an ageing population and declining workforce participation.

• Absence of strategic direction – the budget offers little insight into plans for critical sectors such as planning, housing, education, agriculture, trade and industry, energy, local government, health, social development, tourism, national security, sports, and culture.

To claim that confidence in this budget is low would be an understatement.

The new administration has missed a valuable opportunity to redefine the nation’s economic trajectory. Rather than introducing bold, structural reform, the approach remains one of minor adjustments and short-term fixes – essentially the same pattern characterised by past governments.

Ultimately, the financial burden will fall once again on the consumer, while escalating public debt will leave future generations to shoulder repayment obligations.

Readers familiar with my previous writings would know that I am a long-time advocate of site value taxation. Implementing such a system would bring numerous benefits. It would distribute the tax burden more fairly, promote transparency and accountability, and eliminate the ability to shift taxes onto consumers.

Because land is visible and its value easily assessed, evasion and avoidance would be nearly impossible.

The tax would be based on each site’s capacity to yield value, and the annual obligation would be predictable and equitable.

Crucially, site value taxation would apply to all types of land – commercial, industrial, residential, and agricultural – creating ripple effects across the economy. It would encourage new business formation, expand employment, increase real wages, and boost purchasing power.

Moreover, it would promote true diversification and stimulate the production of affordable goods and services, thereby generating broad-based prosperity.

Such reform would have positive implications across virtually every sector: housing, education, tourism, agriculture, national security, healthcare, law and order, sports, culture, and the arts.

In upcoming analyses, I intend to elaborate on these effects in greater detail, but for now, I invite readers to envision how such a transformation could unfold.

At present, TT is in the grip of a deep recession – not merely due to reduced oil and gas output, but because land values have become prohibitively high, making capital inaccessible to ordinary citizens.

Meanwhile, labour values remain depressed due to persistent unemployment, creating an unhealthy imbalance among the three essential factors of production: land, labour, and capital. The state continues to bear excessive responsibility for sustaining the economy. Introducing a site value tax – gradually phased in over two or three years – could correct these imbalances.

Although progress might be slow at first, by the third or fourth year of implementation, the country would begin to experience genuine transformation.

This would be a transformation rooted in fairness and inclusivity, where all citizens and sectors contribute proportionately, businesses flourish under equitable conditions, and employment reaches optimal levels.

Such a policy offers the most practical route toward a more stable, productive, and self-sustaining economy – an economy that truly serves the interests of every Trinidad and Tobago citizen.

When paintbrushes talk: How art can unlock literacy

WHAT if the key to unlocking literacy isn’t just in textbooks or worksheets, but also in paintbrushes, crayons and creative expression?

In TT, where vibrant Carnival costumes and pan rhythms pulse with storytelling, this idea feels especially alive.

At the heart of a growing educational movement, teachers and researchers are blending art with reading and writing to empower struggling students. Drawing, painting and craft aren’t just extras; they’re bridges that build confidence and spark a true love of words.

Art a language of its own

“Art is another language,” says a recent study inspiring this new approach.

From ancient cave paintings to the colourful murals decorating our Port of Spain streets, humans have long used visuals to share ideas, emotions and stories.

This timeless language crosses ages, backgrounds and abilities, giving students a safe way to express themselves when words feel intimidating. It transcends age, background and ability.

For many in our classrooms, who might find standard English lessons overwhelming amid the pressures of exams, the art room is a haven. Here, ideas flourish without the weight of spelling, grammar or perfect sentences. Creativity surges, and the sting of errors softens into playful discovery.

From visual expression to written words

The aim isn’t to swap reading and writing for art, but to guide a smooth shift from pictures to print. As students gain ease in sharing through images, they naturally crave adding words, labels, captions or stories to their creations.

Picture a student at a San Fernando primary school sketching a lively beach scene. They begin with bold strokes of the sea and sand, then add simple labels like “big wave,” or a short story of adventure. This step-by-step process reveals the secrets of literacy, making it feel personal and connected to their world.

Real-life impact: classroom stories

Akilah Mitchell, a passionate Trinidadian artist and educator, brings this to life in her workshops. “Art helps kids with literacy because it connects pictures with words, making it easier for them to understand stories and new vocabulary.

“It strengthens fine motor skills that are important for writing,” she says.

“Also, when children do art, they’re usually asked to describe and explain their ideas and what they just created. Well, I always ask them to explain why they created that piece in that particular way, which builds language.

“Art activities also teach sequencing, just like reading does (first, next, last).

“It also helps them be more creative in general in the way they think overall, which can help when creating stories.

“Most importantly, it makes learning fun and boosts their confidence in reading and writing.”

Mitchell’s words ring true in local classrooms: timid students, once hushed, now chatter about their vibrant pieces, weaving narratives with newfound flair.

Schools should embrace arts integration

Yet in TT’s resource-strapped system, the arts often play second fiddle to literacy and maths drills. Visuals get labelled “extra” amid Secondary Entrance Assessment (SEA) preparation.

But research flips this script: art and literacy aren’t rivals; they’re allies, boosting outcomes for all.

Rolling it out takes intention: teacher training for blended lessons, funds for paints and paper and carved-out creative slots.

The gains? Alert students, sharper reading skills and a richer cultural education are worth every effort.

A call to action

Parents, teachers and leaders in TT, let’s rally! Push for policies celebrating creative learning, like expanded arts in the national curriculum. Fund programmes blending calypso tales with drawing; link art and language pros for dynamic classes.

At home, nudge kids to doodle family stories or journal Carnival dreams. Teachers, try art-infused tasks and swap tips. Mitchell’s blueprint shows it works.

Looking ahead

As our education system adapts to every child’s spark, from rural villages to urban hubs, it’s prime time to erase the art/literacy split. Merging these voices lets students roar visually and verbally.

When paintbrushes talk, the result is more than just colourful pages; it’s a pathway to confidence, creativity and lifelong learning.

In true Trini spirit, let’s colour the future brighter.

Inspired by local educators and global studies from the US National Endowment for the Arts.

Mary Cuffy is an early childhood curriculum facilitator.

The angels are listening

ON Tuesday morning, before leaving home to go to Pennysavers grocery, I thought about not wanting to park far away and walk a long distance to get to the entrance. Physiotherapy exercises had my leg muscles sore. “Angels, secure a parking spot for me near to the grocery door,” I said aloud as I started the engine.

As a friend from the US had sent some animal-rescue-related funds via Western Union, I envisioned the ideal parking spot would be in front of that building, which is next to the grocery entrance.

At the Pennysavers carpark, there was a spot waiting for me in front of Western Union.

“The angels are listening,” I thought. As I pulled into the spot, a little girl was bending to tie her shoelaces. Emblazoned across her backpack, facing me, was the word “LOVE.”

Ahh, a message from the angels who had heard and swiftly attended to my parking request…“with love.” When I glanced to the left, some words from the advertisement on the window of the phone store caught my eye. Sometimes mundane commercial messages appear to carry inspiring or celestial meanings: “It’s okay, we can fix that.”

Indeed, anything can be fixed with the right assistance, I mused, acknowledging that the angels are busy.

It was one of those days when various slogans jumped out at me with deeper meanings: “Serving up smiles,” near to the coffee section, seemed apt, given the positive flow of events since I had left home.

How many times had I passed by but never seen the “We Care” name of a mini-mart on the main road? How fitting to notice it, then, en route to my destination – the Bacolet physio clinic, where, indeed, the energy is welcoming and caring.

After physio, the therapist suggested that I should ice the sore area at home.

“Ice it!” she repeated cheerily as I departed. As I reached my vehicle, guess what was lying in the grass next to my parking spot – a chewing-gum pack with its brand name staring up at me: “ICE.”

Call it coincidence or call me whimsical; I saw it as further confirmation of angelic attendance – listening, communicating.

“Make yourself familiar with the angels and behold them frequently in spirit; for without being seen, they are present with you.” (St Francis de Sales)

On September 20, 12-year-old Mariah Seenath was found dead in a bushy track in her home village of Friendship, Ste Madeleine.

Reports said barking dogs alerted a neighbour to the presence of Mariah’s bruised, lifeless body.

I was moved to tears on reading news of the autopsy results: Mariah had been beaten to death (severe head trauma).

According to her father, Mariah was “a nice, loving and caring girl.” Reports say she was a respectful child, well known, an exemplary student, dramatist, footballer, sportswoman of the year, about to be a prefect…and no doubt so much more.

No one can imagine the unthinkable terror that this innocent must have experienced on the track that she had often used, day and night, as a shortcut between her home and her grandmother’s.

What further moved me to tears were two simple details in newspaper reports. First: “…She had soaked her school uniform and taken a photo of her father sleeping in a hammock.”

Taking a photo of a sleeping loved one suggests, to me, a simple but profound act of endearment. It gave me an understanding of a potentially close connection with her 40-year-old single father.

The second: her father is reported as saying that Mariah’s dog had chased after the hearse that took her body away.

This poignant detail suggests that Mariah could have shared a special bond with her dog – and, possibly, also the dogs along the track. Perhaps she interacted often with them as she traversed that route. In the end, they spoke up for her, barking until her body was found.

Were they witnesses to the heinous crime?

As I write this article on Wednesday, September 24, no arrests have yet been made. Angels, you are listening and answering requests. Please bring swift justice in Mariah’s case, and ensure deep healing and resolution for her loved ones and all throughout the nation who grieve in the wake of senseless violence. Inspire the right solutions and systems, enabling us to deal, from the root, with the scourge of crime in TT.

(Add your own requests here.)

 

Do you comprehend?

AS people – and as a people – we don’t ask the right questions. That’s if we’re brave enough to ask any at all in the first place. How many media briefings have we all tuned in for (on health, crime, general world woes) and wondered at the peculiarity or randomness of the questions sometimes put to the speakers?

Questionable questions don’t only come from the media, it’s just that being the media puts them in the spotlight. The rest of us have the luxury of not getting it right in private.

Comprehension is the problem. Let’s start with this: for many, comprehension is nothing more than a subject taught in primary school. It forms some part of the English curriculum (and the dratted exams) as found in secondary schools.

Here is a passage you never saw before. Here, the unfathomable poem. And, in a few minutes, a child or other type of young person is meant to take this in and grasp their meaning well enough to answer a bunch of questions.

The thing that bothered me most about the comprehension sections from my earliest encounters with them was as simple as it should have been predictable: I usually had several competing opinions. All of them potentially right. Or wrong.

Then there’s the thing all of us with sound West Indian educations are aware of – there’s the answer you think is correct and the one you think the markers will think correct.

No, the dementia has not set in and left me in the thrall of early education. This is something I mildly obsess over. There are some people who are great at doing the understanding and figuring out of things. And there’s everyone else.

Comprehension is one of the most crucial life skills I can think of. Like crossing a street or swimming. If we teach it better – if we even started to appreciate the vastness of its importance – so many things would make more sense. The news, instructions and decisions from on high that affect us, why the ending of The Godfather is so satisfying no matter how many times you see it.

I’ve seen terrible things over my vast career in emergency English bootcamp for small relatives on the cusp of an exam. They all had in common the same thing I saw in my peers long, long past university: they really did not know how to get to the crux of the question.

Let’s say it’s something like, “What does Burt’s passion for bananas in this passage tell us?” Students will then proceed to write everything they can find about Burt, passion and bananas. There’s a problem with focusing on the arrangement of the words in the question and getting to the point.

Things go from bad to hell when these early exercises are replaced by essays and dissertations.

I never understood why anyone would need extra paper in an exam. What did they all know that I didn’t? What didn’t I get? Terrible, terrible, all is lost. I was always sure I’d fail every exam.

It would be some years before I realised that brevity was not a sin.

If we do better at pulling and stretching young minds (or old, never too late) so what they take from the comprehension exercises is a tool they can use in all subjects, the world would be a better place.

As my most extreme example, I tell people it will help with maths. It will. Because understanding the underlying concept of an equation must help in the sense-making. I know we’re not in the habit of explaining theory to the young and hapless. But we should be. There should be a way to break things down the way we’re able to with times tables.

We can’t understand everything the universe throws at us. We can be better prepared. We need to know we have it in us to take something apart and put it back together from different angles.

This is not a secret superpower I happened to be gifted with. I have two things that helped. I know when something does not make sense to me and I am not afraid to ask questions. I do fear misunderstanding and confusion.

Spitting out things you memorise is what school asks of us most of the time. The unschool world is different. People want to be able to leave you with some questions or tasks and not have to look over your shoulder. Little things like jobs and relationships. Aren’t they worth it?

Remember to talk to your doctor or therapist if you want to know more about what you read here. In many cases, there’s no single solution or diagnosis to a mental health concern. Many people suffer from more than one condition.

Our fascination with powder

DARA E HEALY

“The King Sailors…also threw talcum powder on the women’s hair. They rolled in the streets because the idea was to get as dirty as possible. Some carried chamber pots chained to their wrists. From these pots they would drink rum or juices, horrifying and repelling spectators, to whom they would offer a taste of their refreshments singing Woh Yoh Yoi!

– Jeff Henry, Under the Mas

IN THE distance, puffs of white powder hover over the heads of the masqueraders. They move as one unit, chipping to the music from the truck, crisp white sailor uniforms gleaming in the afternoon sun. This is one of my favourite memories of the All Stars sailor mas preparing to cross the Savannah stage.

This week, in Pan and Powder, as hundreds chipped alongside their truck, wearing white, spraying powder and singing “Lorraine don’t cry I’m leaving” at the tops of their voices, another iconic memory was created. Traditionally we associate this white substance with the sailor mas, but what if I told you that the spraying of powder was also an act of resistance?

During the 17th and 18th centuries, powder was an essential feature in the lives of Western aristocrats. In France, a prematurely balding Louis XVIII began wearing a wig to hide his condition. The practice of men wearing wigs was further entrenched when his son Louis XIV decided to wear an elaborate long and curly version. The wigs were powdered with talc, a mineral known for its soft texture and adaptability when mixed with other substances for use in items such as paint, paper and even insecticides.

Soon, women began to wear wigs and eventually the hairstyles became higher and more intricate. They would often sleep in their wigs, so the powder, mixed with oils and perfumes, helped to mask the scent of hair that was unwashed or that eventually became infested with lice.

Additionally, at the time, the palest or whitest skin was seen as the ultimate sign of beauty. It also signified a life of wealth and leisure, away from outdoor work and the sun. Chalk and later talc, mixed with other starches and sometimes very harmful materials, was applied to the face, neck and chest using powder puffs, brushes or sponges. The perfumed powder helped to conceal blemishes and mask unpleasant body odours since, as one researcher put it, “bathing and washing hair frequently wasn’t a popular activity.”

What does all of this have to do with our Carnival? Well, enslaved Africans were aware of the lie. They knew about the lice, gout, missing teeth due to too many sweets and all of the other imperfections that resulted from the lazy, indulgent lifestyles that enslavement afforded the elites.

Thus, once freedom was achieved, the former enslaved expressed their disgust at the hypocrisy through their Carnival revelry. In what Hollis Liverpool refers to as an “inversion of power,” the ordinary people threw the powder at the spectators, usually members of the upper classes looking on at the Carnival from balconies or spaces safely removed from the masqueraders.

Powder was used in the sailor mas to whiten the faces and hair of masqueraders. This was part of their portrayal of the havoc caused by white sailors who were here during WWII. Today, the sailor mas comes across as very colourful and refined with creative dances and stunning props. However, as our calypsonians have documented, the presence of American sailors resulted in a deep-seated disruption of the values of our society. The baby doll masquerade should be understood as a painful representation of the many young women who were impregnated and abandoned by sailors. Worse, as Liverpool notes, “American sailors on the island were exempt from the laws of Trinidad and Tobago…”

So, the pairing of pan, an instrument of resistance, with powder, a tool used to reclaim power, is indeed fitting. It is interesting to observe that people now use powder as a form of inclusion. Once you are in the band, you must get covered with some. You are unquestionably one of we now.

As we continue to look for answers, the rituals and connection with our history will become even more crucial. As 3 Canal pleads in their song Powder, “Hold on to the ritual/And please don’t let go.” So spray the powder, fling it, cover everybody. We the people will continue to resist.

Dara E Healy is a performing artist and founder of the Idakeda Group, a cultural organisation dedicated to empowering communities through the arts

More of us must be brave

Dr Gabrielle Jamela Hosein

GLOBAL public outrage over the savagery and cruelty of Israeli settler colonisation, state military decimation, and ethnic cleansing of generations of innocent Palestinians continues to grow.

Yet, European and US diplomacy defers to trade and military interests, and support for settler Zionism.

The partition of Palestine became a colonial policy position with the 1917 Balfour Declaration, when British foreign secretary Arthur James Balfour endorsed “a national home for the Jewish people” in Palestine. 1947’s UN Resolution 181 took most of the land from Palestinians for establishment of an Israeli state.

Enforced mass expulsions by settler paramilitaries, and then Israeli state military, have been occurring since at least the 1948 Nakba, or “catastrophe” in Arabic, when an estimated 750,000 Palestinians were displaced from their homes in present-day Israel with no right of return. After 1967, Israeli policies in the West Bank, Gaza, and East Jerusalem, including settlement expansion, annexation, and military law, appeared to aim for permanent control over all of historic Palestine.

This week, Al Jazeera reports that “Israel is demolishing more Palestinian homes across the occupied West Bank, including occupied East Jerusalem, at a higher rate in 2025 than any previous year since the occupation began in 1967.” Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, for whom the International Criminal Court issued an arrest warrant for war crimes, is considering full conquest of the Gaza Strip.

Tens of thousands of children are suffering from malnutrition and dehydration under Israeli occupation. Michael Fakhri, the UN Special Rapporteur on the Right to Food, described Israel as building “the most efficient starvation machine you can imagine.”

Food distribution has been eclipsed by the Israeli and US-administered Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF). It established four aid sites in Gaza, inside Israel’s militarised zone, forcing Palestinians into long and dangerous journeys to get food. Hundreds, including aid workers, have been shot at and killed around its distribution sites.

One hundred and seventy charities and NGOs, including Oxfam and Save the Children, are calling for the GHF to be shut down. In the words of UN humanitarian chief Tom Fletcher: “It makes aid conditional on political and military aims. It makes starvation a bargaining chip. It is a cynical sideshow. A deliberate distraction. A fig leaf for further violence and displacement.”

Netanyahu’s war is so horrific that, this week, 600 former Israeli security chiefs, including from the Mossad, Shin Bet, and the Israeli Defence Forces, have called for an end to suffering in Gaza, and negotiated exchange of political prisoners and hostages.

What is the position of the powerful?

The European Union is Israel’s biggest trading partner, receiving about 30 per cent of exports, and Israel is the EU’s third biggest trading partner. There have been small shifts in trade restrictions, particularly in arms exports, but Germany and Italy are Israel’s main European suppliers of arms.

On July 31, 58 former ambassadors of the EU wrote an open letter calling Europe’s silence and neutrality “complicity” with Israel’s crime of “apartheid” and betrayal of the Union’s “every principle.” They called for immediate suspension of all arms exports to Israel, banning of trade with Israel’s illegal settlements, sanctions, and recognition of Palestinian statehood.

Between October 2023 and October 2024, US military assistance was increased to a minimum of US$22 billion – substantially more than annual aid provided to Israel since 1959. Such spending, funded by taxpayers, provides guaranteed revenue or a form of corporate welfare for US defence contractors. By contrast, the US has committed only 30 million to the GHF.

Companies cozy with Israel include Boeing and General Dynamics (bombs used in airstrikes on civilians), Caterpillar (armoured bulldozers used to demolish villages), Ford (armoured pickups), General Electric, General Motors, Lockheed Martin, and Trump financiers Amazon, Google, and Microsoft which provide cloud services.

War profiteering is the Goliath to be defeated. The US and Europe are its biggest bedfellows. Condemnation of their equivocations in the face of genocide is non-negotiable.

Moral conscience is always in a fight for its life against blood money, but ordinary people everywhere are protesting Palestinians’ gunpoint hell of captivity, terror, and dispossession. Civilian flotillas with humanitarian aid, representing 44 countries, are aiming to break Israel’s illegal blockade. Woe to the downpressors for people power is the shifting tide.

Conscientious objection becomes angrier the more bombs are dropped, expands across geographies the more children die, revolts with greater unity the more reprehensible the injustice, and grows more certain the more those in authority lose credibility.

For the Palestinian people, more and more of us must be brave.

Diary of a mothering worker

Entry 561

motheringworker@gmail.com

Tired tariffs and sleepy sanctions

Jerome Teelucksingh

THE DECISION of the US to impose tariffs on imported goods entering that country is an old strategy. A similar foreign policy had been utilised as early as 432 BC by the Athenian Empire, which levied economic sanctions on Megara.

During the 17th and 18th centuries, one economic policy regularly employed was mercantilism. It was specially crafted to ensure a nation’s wealth increased through exports. France and Britain were among the European nations with mercantilist policies. However, mercantilism existed in theory but not in practice. The reason being there was illegal trade and the presence of pirates and privateers who ignored these protectionist policies.

The embargo was another mercantilist regulation that was based on exclusion.

Some would be familiar with the infamous embargo that the US imposed on Cuba. The embargo was enforced in March 1958 during the rule of Fulgencio Batista. And it continued when Fidel Castro became the leader of Cuba. Not surprisingly, Castro blamed the embargo, and not communism, for his country’s economic problems. The use of this embargo is an unjust form of punishment in which innocent citizens suffer.

Additionally, the US sanctions against Russia is similar to the earlier Continental System (also known as Continental Blockade) which France enforced against England from 1806 to 1814.

Armand Lefebvre contended that for Napoleon Bonaparte, the ruler of France, everything was dominated by the struggle against England. This was particularly accurate when the creation of the Continental System is considered.

Pieter Geyl in Napoleon: For and Against argued that the French foreign policy was “an exaggerated” and “untenable one.” Geyl is partly accurate because the Continental System had far-reaching goals.

Napoleon had created a “prison” in which he deliberately sought to block European nations from trading with Britain. He wanted to destroy the British economy and attempted to do so by ensuring British goods were restricted from entering Europe.

Napoleon’s efforts initially seemed successful. He was able to convince nations as Russia, Austria, and Prussia to co-operate and close their ports to British goods. However, curtailing part of the European trade did not cripple the British economy.

Amidst this turmoil, president Thomas Jefferson and the US Congress passed the Embargo Act in 1807 which stopped nearly all American exports to foreign countries and restricted imports from Britain. This act was an attempt to get Britain and France to recognise the neutrality of the US and to respect its maritime rights. Unfortunately, the act adversely affected the US economy.

One of the major reasons for the failure of the Continental System was because Britain had overseas colonies (in the Caribbean, Africa and Asia) and thus was not solely dependent on European trade.

Secondly, the arrogant Napoleon also failed to implement an alternative plan when Britain began contracting out its shipments to neutral vessels. Napoleon and his other European nations did not expect Britain to retaliate by creating a blockade of all European ships.

Donald Trump should be aware that the attempt by Napoleon to dictate the trading partners of European nations could not be sustained because in the 19th century Europe was part of a global interconnected trading network. Indeed, the British blockade severely handicapped internal European trading, which needed sea-shipping to operate at full capacity. Thus, any long-term boycott of trade with Britain would have hurt the European countries. This flaw in foreign policy badly damaged Napoleon’s leadership ability and his reputation of invincibility. Would this also be the fate of Trump?

In the 19th century, European nations were not prepared to take orders from a rapidly expanding France with Napoleon at the helm. The main reason for the failure of the Continental System was the desire of European countries to seek autonomy and be in control of their economies. This could also occur in 2025 in Europe and result in a backlash with the US tariffs.

European nations, during the failed blockade, realised that France and not Britain was the greater threat to Europe. Subsequently, Europe would unite against Napoleon.

Those who try to enforce any embargo, tariffs and sanctions seem like a tired economics teacher seeking to convince sleepy students that these are foolproof policies. Caribbean and Latin American countries must be more vocal in resisting the global economic order in which developed countries continue to dominate trade. These vulnerable, developing countries are given token roles, a voice but no power, and deceived into believing they will benefit.

For the Caribbean, there seems to be very few positive aspects of tariffs, sanctions, embargoes and globalisation.

Music of resistance: The Tobago tambrin

Dr Rita Pemberton

HAVING gained possession of Tobago in 1763 following a series of conflicts between the various European claimants, the primary aim of the British government was the establishment of sugar cane cultivation on the island.

This led to a hasty attempt to subdivide and sell land to establish sugar plantations, a policy which was prompted by the dual aim of staving off French advances on the island and the desire to benefit from the lucrative market for sugar in Europe.

The need for labour led to the importation of captive Africans to the newly established estates, which initiated African enslavement on the island. Following the pattern established by the slavers in Barbados, those in Tobago, some of whom were also plantation owners in Barbados, applied the strict slave code which was created in Barbados.

These laws were based on the principle that the Africans were chattel, the property of their purchasers who had the right to exert full control over them and treat them as they pleased.

The Barbadian Slave Code was in fact based on the fears of the slavers that they would not be able to control their property unless they applied rigid restrictions and inflicted brutal punishment for transgressions by their enslaved property.

The other consideration was their need to institute measures to secure their investment in purchases of Africans and estates, and to secure the desired profits from the enterprise.

One of the areas that was specially targeted in the Barbadian code was in the realm of culture. Despite the harsh laws of the land which underscored their inferiority, the natural instincts of the enslaved Africans were to have recourse to their innate cultural practices as indices of their identity, strategies for survival, expressions of their religious beliefs, connections with their ancestors, and mechanisms of resistance.

A central feature of life in their homeland was communication across the vast continent, which was an integral part of life in African communities. The experience of the Barbadian slavers caused them to put specific emphasis on the most commonly used method of communication, the drum, one of the most revered cultural items, which one writer described as “the lifeblood “of the African.

Although the slavers objected to the noise and what they considered primitive pagan tendencies of drumming, the fact was that they did not understand the encoded messages which were communicated by drumming, but there were both an awareness that there was deeper meaning to the activity and fear that it could be used against the enslavers themselves and their ability to maintain the institution of slavery.

Drumming was associated with plots and revolts and enslavers recognised that drums spoke a language that they did not understand. Their solution to this dilemma was to impose a legal ban on the drum with severe punishment for the offenders, which was in force since the 18th century.

But for the creators and users, it was a battle with the authorities who felt a particular urgency to deal with drumming from the mid-18th-mid-19th century, when Emancipation occurred.

There were resistance movements which rocked the fledgling sugar industry in Tobago during the 1770s, which made the slavers particularly concerned about drumming and its impact and made them increasingly hostile to drummers and drumming.

In addition, the persistent French threat to the island made the British authorities concerned that any uprising of the enslaved would provide an invitation to French activity in Tobago.

Secondly, the British/French hostility provided the opportunities for French and other pirates and privateers around the coasts, which raised security concerns.

The anti-drum thrust was increased with the termination of the British slave trade and the movement for emancipation. During to period between these two events, slavers were anxious to crush any resistance movement which they believed to be centred around the drums and drumming.

However, the need of the enslaved Africans for communication with their fellows in other parts of the island, for spiritual release and entertainment was so great that they were willing to utilise whatever material was available, be it hollowed tree trunks or unused articles, to create their drums.

In addition to the system of enslavement itself, the ban and related punishment stimulated the African creative pulse, resulting in the creation of various types of drums in the Caribbean.

The response to the ban was the development of a resistance movement to find ways of circumventing the law, which led to the creation of the Tobago tambrin drum. With brave determination, the enslaved Africans sought to protect their creation from destruction by the slavers by hiding the drums in their crude mattresses or in secret places in or around the plantations.

The Tobago tambrin takes its name from a creolisation of the word tambourine, the instrument which was used by missionaries who served on the island to Christianise the “savages,” to accompany their songs.

The making/tuning of the drum is an art which involves a meticulous process and use of the right animal skin to produce the desired sound. So too is playing the drum, which is a skill that requires knowledge of the processes of making and tuning the instrument, constant practice and, in addition, the ability to prepare the goat skin by heating it to the right temperature, before starting to play.

The drums were made from discarded kegs and barrels used for shipping rum and molasses and were headed by goat or other animal skin. When cheese was imported into the island, initially cheese boxes were used to make the rims for the kegs but were replaced by the wild cassava, a vine which grows in the forest, and which held the skin in place.

Kegs were stolen from the estate and hidden, and the drums were made in secret, but their existence was revealed when they were put into use. Then the authorities would confiscate and destroy the drums and the skins of slaughtered animals to deprive the Africans from access to them.

The premises on which drum making was known or suspected to be conducted were frequently inspected. But as drums were destroyed and individuals punished, the Africans found more creative ways to give expression to their inner desires and oppose the restrictive laws and practices.

They created drum orchestras made up of three drums – the bass or boom drum with a deep low-toned bass, the fuller or roller which carried the tune, and the high-toned cutter. The fiddle or violin and the steel triangle completed the ensemble. The Tambrin Band provided the music for entertainment, ceremonies, dance and spiritual rituals in Tobago.

From its 18th century beginnings, the beating of the tambrin, though shrouded in fear and secrecy, was a consistent effort of the Africans to hold on to aspects of their identity through their music of resistance, which flowered after Emancipation when the African population was freed of the fear of punishment for asserting this aspect of their cultural expression.

The giving and acceptance continuum: a theory of sorts

The further back in time I go, the less it seems I cared about feeling accepted, being accepted, or doing anything acceptable.

I think, with time, most people – if they’re lucky – shake off a lot of the deadweight that comes with caring too much about any version of acceptance-by-others.

I appear to have grown into mine.

Even now I don’t spend an inordinate amount of time fretting over it – not consciously, at any rate – but when I do, I really give it my all. Yes, I go on a smidgen about not feeling accepted. But I tell you true, there are days I actively watch the words “I need someone to validate this thing I’m doing” march across my mind.

There are parts of my life where that’s basically the motto. It’s nothing so simple (or simpering) as pleasing someone or ones. I’m not trying to win a popularity contest. It really is as straightforward as I said. I need to know that someone (in particular, usually) believes that what I’m doing is what we might loosely refer to as “right.”

Right for…?

That’s the thing. It has to be exactly what I think a certain person wants for a specific occasion.

I speak here not of life-or-death things like which hospital or whether or not to call the armed forces. I’m thinking of things like table decorations and curtains.

You should not expect a person of my advanced years to be brought low by needing to choose between the white tablecloth or the cream one. And yet I’ve been reduced to tears over less. Ridiculous is in the eye of the beholder.

The beholder has never set out nine cream tablecloths only to be told they were so distressing a sight it would be better to set the tables on fire rather than have anyone see them. (So why do we have nine cream tablecloths?)

The thing is, my life is populated by individuals of very strong ideas.

I have a wild notion that in the bigger world I can take care of myself. This idea flat-out drops dead in the face of my most beloveds. They are not bad. They are simply stronger.

On giving

Not as in presents. So I noticed something about the way in which I was succumbing to the will of both the elders and youngers of the clan.

I was not always screaming and wailing like I used to do. I didn’t always see it as giving up or giving way. And if I had to do something tortured like painting a wall, instead of, say, not doing it at all, I might not see it as giving too much. Even if I had a deadline not sneaking, but shouting at me.

The need for acceptance and the idea of giving too much of yourself could easily be treated as two separate discussions. But those narratives are endlessly worked out in books and online journals and all sorts of websites.

One of my sisters refers to some people as “givists.” They will not only give you the shirt off their back, they’ll take you to have it dry-cleaned and altered to your size. Then they will offer you their pants.

The ideas of accepting and giving, or not accepting and not giving, or any combination thereof meet in the mind. They meet at a point of self-preservation or maybe even a little self-care.

One day, a person decides what they do for those they love is good enough. Not to do a shabby job or intentionally be contrary, but they – ok, I – I have done my best, and that’s all I got.

I still hope it’s acceptable. But the point is, I accept it. I accept me.

Maybe for the same gig I’ve also given time, attention, flour, butter, eggs, sugar, two baking trays, one casserole and the good quiche dish. My friend sighs, “Why? No one needs that much. You always make too much.”

But I’m good with this. This is where I’m comfortable. There will be days when I can’t do as much or at all. And I’ll have to be ok there too.

Somehow, I need to let go of the need to do whatever it takes to meet someone’s idea of acceptable. As it slips though my hands I think I will be more at ease with me. And that me will also be learning that there are many ways to give.

All and everything are not the only things. The self-acceptance makes room for giving. And the other way around.

I’ve decided to keep my pants.

The soft girl, hard girl debate

Reports of the death of feminism have often been grossly exaggerated, to borrow loosely from Mark Twain’s remark on being the subject of a death hoax.

Maybe this time it is not an exaggeration, at least, not in some parts of the world. The BBC broadcast a very disconcerting radio report recently about young women aged 15-24 in Sweden opting to be “soft girls,” ie, to stop work, stay home and adopt a more feminine, career-less, stress-free way of life while their male partners remain the breadwinners.

Yes, the soft-girl lifestyle has been trending on social media globally since the late 2010s, but that’s been low-level. And Trump’s trad wives have been advocating the return to a nation of housewives – but that is mainly middle America, not Sweden! Scandinavia in general, and Sweden in particular, has a global reputation for gender equality and social justice. And yet the trend is deepening, with 14 per cent of seven to 14-year old Swedish girls.

Encouragingly though, it has provoked a lively public debate there. Why are young women ready to jeopardise the hard-won gains of at least two generations of women who have had to fight to achieve the right to work, to economic independence, to have the lowest gender pay gap in Europe (ten per cent), parental leave that is 70 per cent supported by the state and generously subsidised child care? In Sweden, workers are entitled to six weeks’ annual leave and less than one per cent of people work more than 50 hours a week.

But Sweden’s working mothers are among the highest proportion in Europe and soft girls do not want to be subject to those strains, because they see working women still do most of the housework and child care. They do not want to emulate them – but some might consider that a reason for more feminist activism, not less.

It would seem that affluence and high levels of equality are slightly at odds with feminism, which always exists where disadvantage exists. In countries such as Sweden, where the status of women has risen and they feel free and unthreatened by traditional male attitudes, young women might think the battle has been won and they no longer need to be radically minded.

Feminists are quite right that young, inexperienced soft girls who are in thrall to social media, which is more focused on feel-good and body beautiful than career progression, understand nothing about the dangers of turning the clock back to a world in which women depend on men for their freedom and autonomy.

By giving up financial control of their lives women will surrender every important right that ensues. They do not realise, says feminist activist and leading gender academic, UWI Professor Emerita Rhoda Reddock, that this shift in women’s attitude is happening without any change in the patriarchal power men still possess: “Masculinity endows privilege on men, and that has not changed.”

It means that without female resistance, male authority will only intensify, and like so many advances we take for granted, everything women have achieved in the last 50 years could disappear in a flash.

The condition of women today is not universally where it should be. Women still earn less than men, do most of the world’s work, including dangerous jobs such as mining and other jobs that were once the province of men; they own less property; are still deprived of education and basic freedoms – witness Afghan women under the Taliban; they are the majority of refugees; the major victims of human trafficking; and the bulk of the sex workers. In Gaza, more women and children are victims of the unabated genocide, and in most war zones they are the victims of the worst horrors.

Like democracy, feminism is a work in progress. It has to be, since it is not finite and must respond to prevailing circumstances, such as the current global move towards populism and right-wing politics that is coinciding with the fast-paced technological revolution.

The prospect of Donald Trump in the White House has put certain human-rights committees at risk of going unfunded, since the US government-in-waiting appears to be determined to undo some very fundamental human rights which are synonymous with women’s rights.

Feminist activism takes on many different forms that no longer resemble the radical burn-the bra campaigns of the 1960s. Its organisers may not see their work in those terms, but the various local and international efforts to stop domestic violence against women is an example. I will write more on that next week.

Forget soft girls. A strong feminist activist sentiment was present as my NY-PoS flight touched down last week. The impressively capable chief stewardess boasted about the superb quality of the landing and that it was an all-female Caribbean Airlines crew. She drew abundant applause from the full-capacity plane.

I wondered if the celebration might be an expression of relief that we had landed safely, especially perhaps, since no men were in control of the plane; but I could not tell who was clapping louder, men or women.

Cruel Christians

Jerome Teelucksingh

FROM THE late 15th century there was a continuous onslaught by Christian discoverers, missionaries and explorers against Indigenous peoples in the Americas. Their intrusion wreaked havoc on innocent people.

The unwelcome presence of the Spanish, who were Roman Catholic, and later, other European nations (some who belonged to Protestant sects), polluted our Caribbean space. Their actions set in motion unprecedented negative forces. The decimation of the First Peoples was the Western Hemisphere’s first genocide.

The cruel mindset of the Spanish had been earlier exposed during the dreaded Inquisition in medieval Europe. The discovery of new lands by Spain included the misguided belief that Christian countries had a right to govern and rule non-Christian nations. This warped philosophy was known as the “Doctrine of Discovery” and was conceptualised by the RC Church. In 1513, Spain decided to formalise the Doctrine of Discovery in a document known as the Requerimiento (Requirement).

In this biased document, an arrogant King Ferdinand of Spain claimed that God had declared that the pope ruled all peoples, regardless of their law, sect or belief.

The Requirement was neither a vague nor disguised document, but the ulterior motive was obvious: “We shall take you and your wives and your children, and shall make slaves of them, and as such shall sell and dispose of them as their Highnesses may command; and we shall take away your goods, and shall do all the harm and damage that we can.”

All Spanish expeditions were supposed to carry a copy of the Requirement.

The past has constantly haunted us. The First Nations of North America have suffered in this holocaust. The shame of imperialism included stolen lands and burnt villages. These once-free peoples were forced into reservations and later became victims of alcoholism and gambling.

In 1992, efforts to commemorate the 500th anniversary of the arrival of the Spanish expedition into the New World erupted in heated protests in Latin America and Caribbean. The debates revolved around Christopher Columbus’s so-called “discovery” of the region and the subsequent repercussions.

One might ask: How could events that occurred more than 500 years ago affect the Caribbean economies?

It did, and the intrusion of the European powers had a profound impact on our architecture, cuisine, flora and fauna.

This foreign influence wreaked havoc on a tropical environment unaccustomed to sudden change, as the balance of nature was disrupted. Also, it is indubitable that the destruction of a sustainable Caribbean and Latin American environment continued, unhampered, by successive colonial regimes.

This dealt a severe blow to our biodiversity and paved the way for a monoculture which led to a painful economic dependence. Even the introduction of sugar cane to our region can be traced to the ill-fated colonial conquest.

On June 11, 2008, the prime minister of Canada issued a formal apology on behalf of Canadians for the negative impact of the Indian residential school system. In Canada, during the 19th and 20th centuries, residential schools separated over 150,000 Aboriginal (or Indigenous) children from their communities and families. This was a government policy that sought to deliberately isolate Aboriginal children from their culture and language so they could be better assimilated into the dominant European culture. This cultural genocide was only part of the colonial tragedy, as many of these innocent children suffered emotional, sexual and physical abuse in the schools. Furthermore, they were inadequately clothed and fed and some were murdered. This was part of the tragic Christian presence in North America.

Some institutions have acknowledged the stolen lands. For instance, Simon Fraser University (SFU) in Canada has publicly stated that it is located on unceded, traditional territories of the Squamish, Musqueam, Tsleil-Waututh, Katzie and Kwikwetlem First Nations. The Australian government offered a similar apology to the Aboriginal population in February 2009. The thousands of children who were forcibly removed from their families and communities and forced to assimilate were known as the Stolen Generations.

Zita Wallace, an Aboriginal woman from Australia, who is part of the Stolen Generations, recounted her life in an institution operated by the RC Church: “We got belted for speaking our language. We were called pagans and heathens and spawn of the devil. We cooked for the nuns, we washed their big bloomers, we cleaned their rooms. We got just enough education to read and write.”

The abuse committed by so-called religious people is another incident in which the guilty have not been punished. The repercussions of such brutality will not be easily forgotten in history.

Let the budget be our guide

TERRENCE HONORÉ

BUDGETS don’t excite me. But there is a reality that causes me to check myself. There is little to cheer about the drawn-out monologue of the budget presentation. It’s a combination of numbers and phrases couched in political clothes. A familiar checkered pattern, in black and white with plenty grey. All fashioned to convince that the money matters of state are secure, and the economic belt-tightening will not let things slip or sag, like the “saga boys” of our days.

But sectarian interest prevails. Each man looking for his morsel. His ears intent on hearing the favoured sound of more money for his domestic pocket and overseas coffers. But it’s all about what the finance man offers. In smiling demeanour, the finance minister delivers the budget…with the whole nation looking on, with avarice dripping from the mouths of some, and the poor man holding out his hand, pitifully. It’s very serious, this budget thing.

Looking like a law lord without his wig and other pompous things, the minister’s muttered words are heard across the land, equally by the “prince and the pauper.” But what does it matter, it’s just another year and somebody must count the money. So bravely, the finance minister spoke on.

But some things don’t add up. Not to the needy lady in the grocery or the ambitious businessman at the bank. The aspiring youth listens with anxiety and the old wise men in resignation, with the entrepreneurs standing by in anticipation. The economies of scale all seem in balance to the man who calls the tune. We are all dancing to a rhythm as a nation, like a road march on a Carnival Monday.

These are turbulent times, and the ship of state cannot be allowed to flounder. But people who live on pittance must continue to make their petitions to “the big banker in the sky.” And the poor child, with a tear in his eye, wonders at the source of his next meal, while others will feel the pain of the passing of a budget that seems like dry bread without butter.

There is an illusion that things are well with the economy; no epidemic of poverty or cancer of corruption to encounter. So, the budget was presented, and some people might even quote the calypsonian Rudder and say it was like “the ranting of a mad man.” Or even “the blissful, hopeful words of a man madly in love with the numbers.” An account’s glee.

We hear the ching ching of the counting, as the piles of million-dollar allocations rise, but we can’t see the growth of the economy. This budget thing is taxing our resolve, with the lingering loss of energy that is draining our ailing economy. There are too many holes in the bucket, as was sung by Mr Henry to his dear wife Liza, in the famous old nursery rhyme. And so much of our inheritance has been squandered.

But the main fixer, the finance minister, tried to put it all together, in the best way he can; there is a plan, but we can’t yet see the whole picture. Some light shone on the words being said, but the rest are to be revealed in time. Soon we will see how well the economy will do against the elements of corroding corruption, dwindling coffers of the stabilisation fund, and forex problems frowning at us from the corner.

But bravely the minister spoke on. Believing all that he was saying, willed on by the timely desk-thumping from the government benches and goaded by the frowns and jeers from the other side. Not deterred, he continued. Looking like a magician without a wand in his hand, for those things that even he can’t prescribe or predict.

He smiled to reassure us that he is not trying to mislead the masses or to fool the upper classes, but that his intentions are clear and honest and true. But still, with all his vigour the scent of economic decay is in the air, even as we try to count our dollars with good sense.

As was customary in Parliament, the discourse ended and the opposition pounced and pronounced on the budget, speaking of the lack of clarity, and the blurry financial vision for the nation. But the spectacles being worn by the exchequer claims to see the big picture, not just one thing or another. We can’t all see the same, or say the same, but the welfare of the nation must be clear in all our dealings.

But why bother? I said to myself, the budget was read, like years before, and this one is just another. Budgets come and go like money in our pockets. But things will improve, we can’t continue to lose. The grocery bills may be increasing, our personal funds decreasing, but with prudence and perseverance, we are bound to perspire, as we aspire to achieve.

So, let us live in hope, heeding the wisdom of the ages, striving to make the two ends meet, even with worn shoes on our feet. Let the good elements of the budget be our guide, as we continue to work and pray for economic deliverance.

Less is more

KANISA GEORGE

‘In our pursuit of happiness and contentment, wanting something better often results in gaining more. And that can equate to more stuff that we don’t need and, in many cases, don’t even want’

EVERY COUPLE of months or so, I desperately need a fully-powered, foundation-tainted, eyeshadow-complete look.

With very limited skills in the affairs of make-up artistry, I usually summon the services of my baby sister Rae to execute the task.

Now, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about a perfect facebeat, it is the importance of diversity. “Options, Kan, we need options,” she’ll say as I quizzically consider why she owns various shades and brands of dark brown eye pencils.

For all those make-up-obsessed cuties out there, I’ve come to understand that one look only requires a handful of products. So when it comes to make-up, isn’t less more?

I understand now that it might not be, as a smoky eye and an ethereal look are very different beings.

But just like in the world of make-up, we have developed a habit of acquiring far more things than we need in everyday life.

Consumerism has moved from being a troublesome creature to an “unsung hero” almost overnight, as the more we get, the more we want.

And fast-fashion sites don’t make it any easier. Even I fall prey to it, for gone are the days when the experience was all that mattered. We must have our smartphones, outfits, new shoes, handbags and jewellery along for the ride.

It’s human to want more from life: experiences, food and “nice things.”

And this desire can be far more ravenous for those whose upbringing was marred by considerable lack.

In our pursuit of happiness and contentment, wanting something better often results in gaining more. And that can equate to more stuff that we don’t need and, in many cases, don’t even want.

Over time our sense of happiness can become inextricably linked to the material things we own.

“I can’t go out unless my face beat.”

“I was planning to go inno, but my outfit ain’t reach yet.”

You might not be inclined to agree with me, but think back to the last time you went without satisfying your wants.

Admittedly, it’s pretty hard to do, even for me. Especially if you think of it from beyond a material point of view.

What has made it far more complicated is that we have conflated our ideas of what we want with what we need.

Our needs are always going to align with the ways of the world. And in a technologically advanced melting pot, some needs must be met to “keep up.”

But for the sake of other wants that reeks of the desire to conform, shouldn’t we make an effort to live without them?

Since when have we become a society impacted by the “I only wear an outfit once” trend?

The Less is More movement popularised by architect Mies van der Rohe in 1947 speaks far more than just about a minimalistic lifestyle.

In many ways, it’s a blueprint for a stress-free, fulfilling life.

While some might argue that voluntary simplicity is a bit too far-fetched, studies show that it can reduce the considerable effect consumerism can have on us and help us slow down when we become overwhelmed.

It’s not our belongings that make us happy or even secure. Instead, relationships, experiences, and what we’ve learned make all the difference.

We risk sacrificing our happiness when our belongings or material collections become prioritised.

Of course, this might not always be the case, as self-control and introspection play a considerable role in managing our expectations and realities. But if we lack the above, we could easily fall into trouble.

What’s more, we can all benefit from simplicity in other aspects of our lives. From screen time to limiting our recreational choices, it’s essential to keep things simple sometimes as a way to reset and rejuvenate.

For instance, one study showcased how the pressure to keep up with trends and social expectations can feel overwhelming. It leads to feelings of envy, inadequacy, dissatisfaction and dislike. This, for example, doesn’t make for close, supportive relationships and can erode one’s sense of self. Interactions of this nature would do a world of good and support the old age saying that less can be more.

When things are easier, they’re usually more enjoyable and rewarding.

People who occasionally adopt this position typically have less stress and feel less overwhelmed.

A less-is-more/minimalist lifestyle is far more than decluttering. It is about finding practical ways to minimise and stay in tune with one’s self, passions and the things that matter at the end of it all.

It’s about understanding where true happiness lies and making a concerted effort to manage our obsession with “things.”

There are some things we cannot live without, but we must ask ourselves if a less-is-more approach might be the most healthy option for everything else that we think we need.

Your opinions are welcomed

KANISA GEORGE

ADVANCING TO a new season in our lives requires us to be open-minded about the challenges that lie ahead and cognisant of the lessons that taint our past. For better or worse, most of what we do is judged, analysed and appraised by those with a front-row seat to our lives.

Like it or not, what we do and often the way we react is influenced by our target audience, and their opinions of us weigh far heavier than any of us wish they did. After all, no one likes to feel judged. All things considered, we learn from everything and everyone around us, and sometimes those lessons come in the form of critique.

If you’re a new mom, learning the ins and outs of the kitchen or trying your hand at a new skill, you’re bound to run into the opinions of others, especially regarding how well you’re getting on. It’s all fun and games when your audience sings your praises, and let’s not forget about the much-needed self-esteem boost that accompanies positive commentary.

Contention, on the far end, weasels its way into the narrative when unsavoury comments, suggestions, or remarks are hurled our way, without invitation. And we all know the impact that this can potentially have on not just our self-esteem, but our emotional state of mind.

While a negative response might not always be welcomed, our reaction to criticism, however revolting it might be, is a natural psychological response. It all has to do with the way our brain responds to the message received.

Naturally, our brain registers criticism as a threat and automatically sends out alarm signals similar to those of a physical attack. Psychologist Daniel Goleman sums this up as our “brains viewing criticism as a threat to our survival.”

Because our brains are protective of us, neuroscientists say they go out of their way to make sure we always feel like we’re in the right – even when we’re not. And when we receive criticism, our brain tries to protect us from the threat it perceives to our place in the social order of things. Goleman summarises that “threats to our standing in the eyes of others are remarkably potent biologically, almost as those to our very survival.”

It goes without saying that no one likes to receive negative feedback or have their flaws spotlighted, but there are times when the critique we receive only goes to support our growth and well-being. And I am not talking about feedback of a positive kind.

Negative feedback can be used as a source of power and growth if we can reasonably determine its utility. Of course, it won’t be hard to find people who are hell-bent on hurting us and use venom, crouched in the form of criticism, to throw us off course emotionally.

As they say, such unhelpful criticism should be taken with a pinch of salt because your critic isn’t always right. But don’t let this be your starting point. As in most things in life, having an open mind is the first thing we should endeavour to do when we receive feedback.

Ellen Hendricksen, a psychologist at Boston University’s Center for Anxiety and Related Disorders, advises that you can always reject criticism that does not match what your core beliefs tell you is correct, for feedback in most cases is an opinion shaped by the giver’s context, values and place in life.

Ask yourself this question: what does this feedback say about my actions or approach?

We get so caught up in immediately assuming that we are being vilified that we listen to react instead of understand.

Not only should active listening be of paramount importance, but we should also listen to engage. Ask questions that will help you better understand how you can improve and how best to apply those changes. Use this opportunity to understand the message behind the feedback.

Be slow to respond!

When we receive negative feedback, most of us are quick to respond. And often our immediate response isn’t a positive one. Instead of a quick response, we should listen and consume before we say anything.

Charles Jacobs, author of Management Rewired: Why Feedback Doesn’t Work, espoused an exciting perspective on how we view criticism. Jacobs theorises that we often don’t remember criticism correctly. He adds that when we hear information that conflicts with our self-image, our instinct is to change the information first rather than ourselves.

What’s even more interesting about this finding is that while we are more likely to remember incorrectly, our negative bias doesn’t prevent us from forgetting it. We wear the feedback as negative trauma instead of a springboard to growth.

Feedback is needed to help our growth, and what we do with it can influence not only what we learn about our surroundings and others, but also about ourselves. Use criticism, no matter how negative, to your advantage instead of being a slave to its hold.