We must empower ourselves

As angry as I may sometimes appear in my letters to this newspaper and to some in person, there are Caymanians young and old as angry as I may seem.

I have much to give God thanks for; much more than a growing army of young disposed, uneducated, untrained and unemployed Caymanians I mingle with daily.

I was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth; however, my mother and father worked hard in Grand Cayman and abroad to achieve what many regard as my financial accomplishments. I will forever be grateful to my parents, especially my mother who was born and raised in Cuba and came here when she was already 15 years old. Her father was Jamaican although her mother was from the District of East End.

Granny’s father was Captain George Dixon from that district and my brother the late Pastor George Verdun McField was named after him. Many might have noted that the park built by the Darts in East End is called the Captain George Dixon Park; my tribute to my mother and her East End family.

Brother George or Pastor George Verdun McField who died at the young age of 60 was the chaplin at Her Majesty’s Prison Northward at the time of his death on May 5th, 2007. And although George never talked about his past military experiences he was a veteran of the Vietnam War. He served with honour with the 101 Airborne Division 1968 t0 1969.

I am often shocked that many people still do not know that Brother George died suddenly and surprisingly in 2007.

Most children are offended when a mother regards one child more than another but I feel George was Mamma’s heartstring and his death devastated her, causing her to give up all she had over the years slaved to build in Grand Cayman.

I guess because I am Mamma’s second child and only remaining son, I inherited the responsibility for her and her properties. This could be part of the reason many believe I am wealthy due to my previous position with our government.

On the contrary, what I have is the result of the sacrifices of my parents and only God knows what my economic situation, as difficult as it is would be today, if it were not for their slaving. But my valued inheritance is not property. It is what I have learnt from my mother and that is that one labours not for worldly positions or possessions but to support the love and life Christ bestowed upon us because of our assistance and concern for others.

So I am not as angry as I seem. But I am a rebellious creature; seeking the meaning of life and its value outside the human constructed realities of the materialistic and selfish mega capitalist system that has destroyed our Caymanian traditional values of caring and sharing.

For no longer do we hear or realise when one among us has departed. No longer do we hear the tolling of our church bells. And no longer are we able to borrow sugar or salt or to be thankful for the food we eat. No longer can we feed our children with fish from the North Sound or bread kind from our grounds; because our lands have already been sold and are in foreign hands and our great North Sound preserved not for our children but to make money. Money that goes straight back where it came from; to buy cars, phones and plane tickets to get us away from the incredible stress that gives us high blood pressure, anger, hate, heart attacks and a misunderstanding of our purpose in this life.

The sad part of my tales is that Caymanians placed in positions to make a difference, only make things worse. Worse because we too often see only the dollar and not our fate; although it is true that a man cannot live by the dollar alone and one day some will feel the aloneness of having rejected community for wealth and the social status it buys.

In this year let us dispossessed Caymanians reconnect with each other in order to again empower community, even if all we achieve is the knowledge of where we are and how we came to be where we now are; disposed and at the bottom of our own food chain.

Frank McField