ORDINARY people, that is, you and I and the people we associate with are not too much into achieving what would be considered greatness.

We wake up in the morning, clean our teeth, take a shower, get the kids off to school, do a day’s work, then later on at home the realisation may hit that life is pretty boring because it seems to be an endless repetition of the days before.

It is quite likely that you may dislike your job and your boss and the colleague who always seems to be sucking up to the boss, but you stick it out because the bills have to be paid and the children did not ask to be a part of your constant bleating about your life.

In relation to the many ordinary things that people do on a daily basis, there are not too many great things that will ever be done in this world. It is, however, the really great inventions or discoveries that give us leave to deal with the daily rote of life.

A tailor adding the finishing touches to a suit in the early hours of a lazy Sunday morning will make no headlines, but he gives an old man living two gates away from him reason to rush to church that day to find his personal peace. There are millions of tailors and dressmakers and fashion designers, some much better than the others, but the really great work is the presence and the invention of the sewing machine.

Many of us who read about the exploits of the great ones who lived before and who revolutionised the world, or who are still living (like Bill Gates) tend to lose a little bit of ourselves vicariously as we try to imagine what we would have been like had we built a better mousetrap, and had opulence greet us in the morning and tuck us in at nights while our names would be inscribed as one of the greats. We do that because it is not natural in the human condition to regress.

Huge numbers of our young people have been fed on a diet of poor role models, poor parenting and a society that has lost touch with its gentler side. In the dense, inner-city settings on the outskirts of Montego Bay, in May Pen and in the garrison pockets in the Kingston Metropolitan Area, there are decent people — adults who missed the education boat because the luxury liners never did pass their way in the first instance.

With a water-logged-canoe education they became plumbers, mechanics, masons, tilers, steel men, welders, gardeners, upholsterers, small shopkeepers and daily they support their households and continue even as shots ring out at nights and the police and the gunmen are seen as the common enemy.

In these settings probably one out of every 20 children will escape the cold clutches of the ghetto. The fact is, no youngster growing in these areas wants to become a mechanic or a gardener, and, because there are not too many doctors or lawyers living in the next lane, they naturally gravitate to the persons most in touch with their immediate pain and concerns — the drug dealer and the pop music DJ.

In early 2009, as I was on a ‘corners’ on Matthews Lane one night a single parent, a mother, cleared up many of the fallacies the rest of us had about inner-city, garrison settings: “Me want my daughter grow up and become lawyer and doctor like anybody else uptown. Di ting is dat di pressure harder yah so because all di wutliss bwoy dem wan breed har off, an because so much a wi inna di house, she always dey pon di road.”

It is quite foolish of us to put pressure on music DJs to be better role models when most of what they are doing is trying to make a life for themselves. The reality is the high visibility of the DJs and the drug dealers and the ‘bling’ associated with their lifestyle. While our females continue to outperform males throughout almost every age cohort, the drug dealer and the DJ are gods to the boys at risk and they tend to do poorly in school because education was never seen to be a priority in any drug dealer’s or DJ’s life.

While this happens, the police are seen by residents of many inner-city communities as that force to hinder the ‘entrepeneurial’ spirit of the ghetto. In my days as a child, a policeman was role model to many and no one wanted to be a gangster.

The tables have turned in this topsy-turvy world. The young man now looks up to the gangster and admires him while he prefers to see the policeman dead.

The Chinese have been long in coming

AMERICANS, especially those who have spent a lifetime embracing xenophobia and American exceptionalism, are only now discovering what many of us knew about the Chinese from before the 1950s.

Picture a poor. deep rural district in the mid-1950s. The streets are unpaved, there is no electricity, no piped water and cars on those roads are a rarity.

There are two shops in the district. One is a ‘chiney’ shop and the other is owned by a black Jamaican. They are about 200 metres apart and sell pretty much the same things, but there are important differences.

The black Jamaican has a house to the back while the Chinese couple live in the cramped quarters attached to the back of the shop. At almost any hour of the morning or night the ‘chiney’ shop will sell you what you want. Plus, unlike the black-owned shop, the ‘Chiney’ man will not cuss you and say, ‘A whey mi fi find change fi dem big money dey?’

In the 1950s the biggest note was an English £5 note. Not many poor people saw them, but at the Chinese shop Miss Chin would always ensure that she made the sale by having change available.

Fast-forward 20 years. The black-owned shop is nicely painted and the house to the back has expanded. The shop is still the same size but the man’s son is now in charge.

Two hundred metres away where the ‘Chiney’ shop used to be is rubble overgrown with bushes. What has happened?

Well, the ‘Chiney’ man and his wife are operating a supermarket in the parish capital and their two sons are abroad attending university. He is no longer the ‘Chiney’ man but is instead a businessman of Chinese extraction.

Recently a reader sent me a piece on what the Americans have now discovered about China. It is reprinted below.

“Lesson No. 1 – Be AMBITIOUS

The Chinese believe in setting goals, making plans, and focusing on moving ahead — there is always the sense of forward motion.

As an example, a huge six-lane highway in Shanghai took only two years from planning to ready for traffic. In the US, two years will only get you the environment and local authority permit if you are lucky.

“Lesson No. 2 – EDUCATION MATTERS

The Chinese are obsessed with ensuring kids get the right education — English, Maths and Science. They made sure that their education system reached even the most remote rural areas. Today the literacy rate in China is OVER 90 per cent, surpassing even the USA’s 86 per cent. According to American educationists, the Chinese kids are ahead of the kids in the US.

“Lesson No. 3 – LOOK AFTER THE ELDERLY

The Chinese DO NOT send their elderly to nursing care centres, they personally look after and care for their parents. In the US, nursing care of the elderly is now costing each resident US$85,000 annually and this is rising. The Chinese also believe that the grandparents at home make the best tutors for their children. It also provides a sense of cultural continuity — this helps bind society.

“Lesson No. 4 – SAVE MORE

In the US, savings dropped to zero in 2005, and is only now slowly rising to four per cent. In China, the savings rate for every household has exceeded 20 per cent. The Chinese believe that frugality and a healthy savings rate are a sure indicator of a country’s financial health. High savings lead to increased investments — results in increased productivity, innovation and job growth.

“Lesson No. 5 – LOOK OVER THE HORIZON

“In China, everyone is forward-looking — anticipating the future and investing accordingly. New graduates make a vow — never ever will their children and grandchildren be worse off than they are. With this kind of forward mentality, people are always thinking and planning how, not just to succeed, BUT how to be the best in the world in everything they do.”

We in Jamaica were front-seat witnesses to the frugality and quiet ambition of our Chinese Jamaicans. What did we do? We ridiculed them, laughed at how we said they walked ‘funny’ even as we were asking them, ‘Mr Chin, gimme dah piece a saltfish tail nuh.’

Mr Chin gave us the piece of saltfish tail and many of us have not risen much in ambition beyond that. The new Chinese in Jamaica are simply doing the same thing that those before him did. Exploiting the disunity of the Jamaican black man, selling him what he wants at affordable prices, understanding us through their learning of the Jamaican patois and making another nation of Chinese in Jamaica rich again. I congratulate them.

A Cash Pot, Pick 3 Jamaica

IT is rare that the level of discourse at street level ever rises above which number played, who forgot to buy it and which one is likely to be played in the next pot.

In some perverse way, Cash Pot provides a moment’s hope for the poor and the unemployed. A $20 or $50 wager raises the hope for a few hours, dashes it against the rocks when it fails to play and then the cycle is repeated. Last Wednesday when the 1:00 pm Pick 3 draw was 9-5-8 many Jamaicans who are hooked on the game were stunned and called it Bolt.

A few weeks ago, I was in conversation with three men about a matter that had been the subject of much public controversy. We were standing outside a small shop and just as the discussion was becoming deeper, a young man walked up and stood nearby. I got the impression that he wanted to participate so I said to him, “Hail up, mi bredrin. I know you heard what was being said and just by looking at you it seems as if you want to contribute to the discussion.”

He smiled then said, “Yu know which number play dis morning?” I stared at him for a full five seconds, then said to the others, “Can you help?”

The domestic helper whom I employ for a few days each month is hooked and so are just about every unemployed and underemployed person I know. The moralist would, I am certain, suggest that every dollar saved is a dollar earned and that gambling is a sin. To the moralist I would say, try unemployment for a while then report to me later.

A few of Jamaica’s gifts to the world

DR Lloyd Eubank-Green, who likes to be called a ‘Dream Coach’, is a man who transforms ordinary people into extraordinary human beings. His charitable work behind the scenes is legendary and I have worked with him on two occasions in that regard.

His 2010 book, Jamaica’s Gifts to the World is an interesting read in that it places us in a position to be able to connect with those who have taken our name far and wide while making us feel special about ourselves.

I want to make mention of just two in his book.

Jody-Ann Maxwell. I am not an openly emotional man but I can remember my throat getting all funny and my eyes moist as I watched the little seventh grader from Ardenne beat the world as she won the 71st Annual Scripps Howard National Spelling Bee in the USA in 1998.

According to the book, quoting Jodi-Ann, ‘Maxwell said the toughest part of the bee was the first word because it was the icebreaker. Maxwell is presently studying law but even now I can see her spelling that final word ‘chiaroscurist’, an artist who uses light and shade to produce the illusion of depth.

Dr TP Lecky. Many youngsters will have probably never heard of the late Dr Thomas Phillip Lecky and we ought to be grateful to Dr Eubank-Green for highlighting this gift.

Lecky studied agriculture at McGill University and the University of Toronto and later went on to develop the Jamaica Hope breed of cattle. Over a period of 20 years Lecky took the Zebu cattle which could barely produce enough milk to feed its calves to producing an average of 15 quarts of milk per day! His was one of the world’s first scientifically engineered breeds of tropical cattle.

Lecky, who was the first Jamaican to gain a PhD in agriculture, had scientific and governmental officials from all over the world visiting him at Bodles to find out just how he did it. He was a giant among us, a gift.

The book is published by Ian Randle and it has a few surprises. Check it out.

What’s With Ragashanti?

A month or so ago after I had picked up my 15-year-old stepdaughter from Immaculate Conception High School, the voice of Ragashanti, or to give him his full title, Dr Kingsley Stewart, was in its most descriptive element.

My car radio is usually stuck on Nationwide, hence the voice of Ragashanti. Someone had just called in to give her latest take on some crude sex matter which she found was right up her alley.

Ragashanti laughed out. “Mi a go pee pee up meself, Lawd owy.” Then, “Wi a go tek a likkle break now. Mi a go wipe up di pee pee off a di floor. Soon come back.”

I said to my stepdaughter in dismay, “Did you know that he has a PhD in anthropology?”

“Are you serious?” she said. “He has studied people?” After a pause, she said, “I get it.”

She left it hanging and because we always play mind games when I am taking her to school and on the occasions when I have to do the evening pickup, I am always expecting her to spring something on me.

“What do you get?” I asked. “Spill it.”

“You say that he has a degree in anthropology. Well, he has studied Jamaicans and he must have figured out that we do not need anything more than what his programme is about.”

The concept of not overloading Jamaicans with what they cannot bear is somewhat offensive, especially after reading Dr Lloyd Eubank-Green’s book which, ironically, has Ragashanti featured.

If a little ninth grader can come to the conclusion via Ragashanti’s show that Raga is simply giving us what we are most comfortable with or what will just stop us short of actually using our brains, then…

I had to confess that sometimes analysis from the mouth of babes is more than refreshing.

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