Dear Editor,

Jamaicans are hypocrites, and I am one of them.

On May 13, 2026, Opposition Member of Parliament (MP) and spokesperson for the creative industries, culture and information, Nekeisha Burchell, rose to deliver her maiden sectoral debate speech. She began in Jamaican Patois, declaring: “Madam Speaker, mi git up dis afta noon fi mek mi fuss sectoral speech pon mi portfolio…” Almost immediately, House Speaker Juliet Holness intervened, reminding her that the Standing Orders require standard English in the House of Representatives. Holness warned that continuing in patois would cost Burchell speaking time. The exchange sparked protests from Opposition MPs and support from government members, reigniting the long-standing debate about whether patois has a rightful place in Jamaica’s highest legislative chamber.

Incontestably, we consider ourselves a proud people. We beam with pride whenever our culture is showcased on any stage or platform. Yet behind this pride lies an uncomfortable truth. Language is a cornerstone of culture, but it is often the element we neglect. The world beyond Jamaica is enthralled by our vibrant tongue. Everyone wants to speak Jamaican, to capture its rhythm and energy, and to use it for attention. But when we turn the lens inward, what we see is troubling. Growing up, I was told that speaking Jamaican Patois, our native tongue, meant you “chat bad” and that it was a marker of low intelligence.

I confess, I believed this lie. I convinced myself that mastering standard English made me superior, and those who did not exhibit a certain level of proficiency were either slow or uneducated. Worse still, I felt ashamed when I heard patois spoken on certain platforms, as though it were unworthy. But who am I to decide that? Who are we to decide that what makes us unique is unfit for the highest stage?

Popular social media personality and language educator Raul “Blaze” Davis has classified this phenomenon as “accent/dialect shame syndrome”. He points out how patois is often dismissed as “chat bad” and something to be hidden or scorned when heard in formal spaces. He challenges this narrative, contending that the real issue lies in our own perception, the ingrained belief, born out of our colonial past, that standard English — the so-called language of prestige — is inherently superior to Jamaican Patois.

His words forced me to confront my own values and identity. It struck me that I am proud to be Jamaican, yet simultaneously ashamed of one of the most defining aspects of my identity — my language. Anywhere in the world, once a Jamaican speaks, he or she is instantly recognised. Why? Because we speak a language unique to us. A language that has carried our culture across the globe yet still struggles to find acceptance among the very people who use it most.

So I want to join Davis in challenging us to change our perception. Let us embrace what makes us unique. Let us celebrate hearing patois in spaces such as national media, Parliament, and global platforms. Let us move from cringing with second-hand embarrassment to overflowing with pride when patois is spoken. Let us stop questioning the intelligence of our fellow Jamaicans simply because they embrace what defines us. As a people, we must own our identity. That means making the language official and permissible at every level of society.

Laws, rules, and standards must change. A Jamaican should never be ridiculed for what makes him or her Jamaican.

Terrain Wright

A proud Jamaican

wrightterrain@yahoo.com