TWO weeks ago I tried to get a Jamaican handyman to help me with some work. He had an overflow (handy men are always in demand) so he sent a friend, whom I will call Roy. Roy had worked for me previously, but stopped a few years ago because of the demands of his life. I was happy to see him again. He is a big-hearted Jamaican to the bone. As long as I can get a word in and get him to stay on task, he does a good job. Plus, because he talks so much, I usually end up with some brawta: on his way out, for example, he will start talking and, while he is at it, he is pulling up random weeds or yanking stubborn ivy off the walls.

Roy came to the United States with his wife around 10 years ago. He had a good non-professional job in the civil service and his wife taught at a prominent high school. Through a teacher-recruitment programme, she was hired to work in the US. Roy followed. He had no transferable skills or qualifications; he had to hustle to survive. Through endless twists and turns, he eventually got an offer they couldn’t refuse. In exchange for his janitorial services at a residential facility, the family could live in the basement of the building for free.

“We lookin’ some weh fi wisself now, you know, Miss G,” he greeted me upon arrival. “Mi wife tyad a di basement. She wa’ move now.”

He too felt it was time. One of the drawbacks, he said, was not having suitable space to entertain family and friends, especially after church services on Saturdays — a common part of Seventh-day Adventist fellowship.

“Mi still naah knock it doh, you know. Mi get a lot outta it. Mi wife tan in a dat basement and earn her master’s degree, and mi daughter earn her bachelor’s degree. Mi daughter is a registered nurse now.”

My mind went immediately to a frequent talk show caller who disdainfully refers to Jamaicans living in the United States as “basement dwellers”. His contention seems to be that Jamaican’s abroad should not criticize what is going on at home because it’s not like life is great for most of us in the United States, and he is emphasizing that many Jamaicans at home live better than their compatriots abroad.

That should not be news to anyone. There are many wealthy people in Jamaica and, overwhelmingly, it is the poor who migrate. Moreover, hardship in the United States is not just about cold and snow. It is about the challenges and sacrifices that some people are prepared to make in the quest for a better life for themselves and their children in a country that is challenging and exacting, but offers opportunities that are not available at home. Quite often, it means working menial jobs, and for many people it also means living in basement apartments. Because they are below street level, natural lighting is usually limited and they are prone to other drawbacks, like flooding. It must be noted, though, that all basement apartments must have windows to even be classified as such, and not all have flooding problems. Nevertheless, these potential drawbacks automatically mean lower rent.

For most new immigrants, that’s all they can afford, especially when they are also sending money back home to build their own homes, or to help out family — that glorious remittance that people line up at Western Union to collect and which the Government tallies and tries to harness in its development effort. Sixty-two per cent of the multi-billion-dollar remittance inflows into Jamaica comes out of the United States; the state of New York, where real estate is notoriously expensive, accounts for 24 per cent, according to a 2010 study by the Bank of Jamaica. The same study showed that people who send money from the United States are typically employed in private health and social services sector, wholesale and retail, repairs and installation of machines, construction and food services, among others. While these industries represent steady incomes, employees are not wealthy, nor will they be in their lifetimes. Even with sustained hard work over decades, first-generation immigrants rarely accumulate significant wealth. For most, it is a sacrifice; a gift to future generations.

General Colin Powel tells the story of his family quite well. He grew up in the Bronx, where his parents, who were from St Elizabeth, worked as a shipping clerk and a dressmaker. He became the first black man to be appointed United States secretary of state. Michelle Bernard, a well-known attorney and political analyst in Washington, related her parent’s story in this newspaper, Sunday, July 5. Her father, Dr Milton Bernard, worked as a cab driver to send himself to dental school at Howard University and support his young family. More than a half a century later, her parents are well-established professionals and the children, including Michelle, are blazing trails of their own.

Roy, a first-generation immigrant, got lucky. For more than six years, he lived without paying rent or mortgage and now he has made sufficiently good use of that opportunity and he is ready to move on. He is quietly buying his own garden tools and tracking down old customers in preparation work independently.

Success is not an overnight thing, especially for those, like Ambassador Audrey Marks, who made the decision early on that she would be a “basement dweller”. She never migrated but her story too is an exemplary demonstration of character as it is an insight into culture that diminishes processes and struggles to focus only on the end product. Fortunately for her, she determined that her accomplishments would be through uncompromising hard work and sacrifice. Those values are worth emulating.

Grace Virtue, PhD, is a social justice advocate.