When service becomes a selfie
Dear Editor,
Since Hurricane Melissa, our social media timelines have been flooded, not only with images of wrecked homes and toppled trees, but also with people smiling beside them. Group photos of well-intentioned citizens in branded shirts, influencers filming relief drives, and organisations turning charity into cinematic moments.
It’s hard not to ask: When did volunteerism become performance? When did compassion become content?
Jamaicans have always been known for resilience and community spirit. From church groups to youth clubs, Diaspora foundations to past students’ associations our instinct to help is woven into our cultural DNA. Yet in this Digital Age, the act of giving has become inseparable from the need to be seen doing good. What was once private and humble has become a public display, curated for likes and reposts.
To be fair, social media is not the enemy. Platforms such as
Instagram, TikTok, and
X have proven to be powerful tools for raising awareness and mobilising relief. We have seen barrels shipped faster, funds raised more widely, and volunteers organised more efficiently because of online visibility. The problem arises when visibility becomes the goal rather than the vehicle.
The deeper issue is cultural. Ours is a society that has learned to survive by being seen — by proving our worth through hustle, fashion, and image. Volunteerism has, in many ways, inherited that same performative trait. Doing good has become another form of branding, another metric of influence. Some non-government organisations (NGOs), as well as the government and its agencies, have fallen into this trap, over-documenting relief efforts for international validation while under-delivering sustainable impact at home.
We must be careful not to confuse exposure with effectiveness. A photo-op cannot replace proper coordination. And, while influencers and celebrities may use their platforms to amplify awareness, we must ask: Who benefits most from these curated displays? The communities in need, or the personal brands being built in their name?
Still, the conversation must remain nuanced. There are countless volunteers — many unseen — who are doing real, selfless work — clearing debris, sending funds and supplies, cooking meals daily, without ever posting a thing. These are the acts that restore faith in who we are as a people.
Volunteerism should never be about optics; it should be about outcomes. The burden of the disaster demands more than a selfie. What Jamaica urgently needs is a system that registers and deploys volunteers based on skills and location, ensuring accountability, efficiency, and sustainability. The diaspora, too, must be integrated.
Government could an play its part by incentivising volunteer hours through tax credits or service-based scholarships. Corporations can integrate community hours into employee evaluations. Schools can embed community service as a graduation requirement. When service becomes systemic rather than situational, the results last beyond the photo moment.
Hurricane Melissa exposed not only the physical vulnerability of our island but also the moral crossroads at which we stand. The cameras will eventually turn away. The hashtags will fade. Yet the real work of clearing rubble, rebuilding homes, and restoring dignity will remain.
Let us be remembered not for the pictures we posted, but for the lives we lifted. Let your service speak louder than your captions.
Rickardo W Shuzzr
media@shuzzr.com