By Marlon Bute
Entrepreneur, construction worker, writer
Dignity
What is dignity to me?
What is dignity to mothers,
to fathers,
to men and women?
What is dignity to our people?
I’ve asked myself that question.
I’ve asked them too.
People in my community.
People from all over the world.
And no matter where they are from,
their answers sound the same.
Because dignity is something we all feel in our bones.
Dignity is being respected.
Feeling respected.
Dignity is waking up in the morning
and having a job to go to.
A job that pays enough
to put food on the table.
Enough to make the rent or the mortgage.
Enough to take care of your own.
Sometimes,
dignity is just having a job at all.
A job that gives you pride.
A job that lets you move forward.
From one role to another.
From one stage in life to the next.
Dignity is looking at your children
as they eat
rice,
meat,
vegetables,
fruits,
juices
and watching the contentment
on their faces.
Knowing their full bellies
came from your work,
your sweat,
your sacrifice.
That is dignity.
Dignity is being able to support your spouse.
To build a home.
To build a future.
To build something that lasts.
Dignity is being able to retire
after years of working.
To eat well.
Drink well.
Maybe even travel a little.
To have a bit saved.
To have a choice.
Dignity is not having to stretch out your hand.
Not having to beg.
Not depending on a politician
for food,
for work,
for schoolbooks.
Dignity is knowing
you can make it on your own.
That your labour means something.
That your effort is enough.
Dignity is steady work.
Good work.
Not scraps.
Not two weeks here
and one month there.
But work that lets you build.
That lets you plan.
That lets you breathe.
Dignity is looking your children in the eye
and knowing
you are someone they can follow.
That everything you have
was earned honestly.
Dignity is sitting on your porch
with your dog beside you,
the roof over your head
paid for by your own hands.
Not luxury.
Not glamour.
Peace.
Pride.
Earned.
Dignity is knowing
there’s a path for you
no matter your starting point
if your attitude is right.
Dignity is knowing
there is no shame in your plate.
Whether it’s chicken back or chicken breast,
rice or ramen,
if you earned it honestly,
and it fills your family’s belly,
then there is no shame.
That is dignity.
Dignity is holding on
to childhood memories.
Cricket in the street.
Climbing trees,
sitting on branches,
eating mangoes
until your shirt turned yellow.
Running barefoot through the rain.
And Sunday feasts
macaroni pie,
stewed peas,
fried plantain,
baked chicken,
stewed beef,
ginger beer,
sorrel,
mauby
and on the table,
goat water,
carrots,
okros.
The goat?
Reared in the backyard.
The carrots?
The okros?
Grown right there too.
That is dignity.
Dignity is in those memories.
In the joy.
In the belonging.
In the wholeness of growing up
with love,
laughter,
and community.
Memories of La Soufrière volcano exploding
covering the earth around us
in a bed of grey.
Memories of folks supporting each other.
Mothers.
Grandmothers.
Grandfathers.
Sisters.
Brothers.
Aunts.
Uncles.
That is dignity.
The dignity of community.
Memories of heading to Bequia.
To Canouan.
On a ferry.
Seeing schools of fish
in the deep blue Caribbean seas.
Fish that jumped so high,
you felt
you could touch them.
That is dignity.
The inheritance of these beautiful islands we call
St. Vincent and the Grenadines.
Dignity is being able to work
through many years
and leave a legacy.
A memory.
Something worthy to be remembered by
after I’m long gone.
That is dignity.
Dignity is full belly.
Dignity is clear mind.
Dignity is being able to speak,
to preach,
to say what I feel,
when I feel,
respectfully,
with clarity,
with sincerity,
without trepidation
or hesitation.
That is dignity.
Dignity is doing what a man does.
Defend.
Protect.
Nourish.
Respect the children.
Respect the women.
Respect the sick.
Respect those who appear different.
That is dignity for me.
Dignity is charity.
Giving others bread.
Being supportive
so that all of us
may have self-respect.
Dignity is in creating
and contributing
to a better Saint Vincent and the Grenadines.
A better community.
A better village.
That is dignity.
Dignity is planting
potatoes,
corn,
sweet peppers,
cabbage,
lettuce,
carrots,
tomatoes
and watching them rise from the soil,
abundant and proud.
In producing,
that is dignity.
Dignity is being on your boat
just you,
the sky above,
the sea beneath
and returning with a day’s catch.
Robins.
Jackfish.
Sprat.
Snapper.
That is dignity.
Dignity is in the yams,
the dasheen,
the eddoes,
the stewed callaloo,
fried jackfish and roast breadfruit on your plate
the national dish
and food grown by your own hands,
in your own backyard.
That is dignity.
Dignity is in your accomplishments
through effort.
And all of this,
that
is dignity for me.
And that
is also
what makes me Vinci.
