Sylvia Wynter's Dream

We only see the pretty picture

That’s all they want us to see

Never you dare look beyond the lens 

Don’t remove the filter 

Continue to view the world through rose-colored glasses

Unveiling the facade might break you

Don’t do it unless you’re ready

Ready to live outside the bubble and face the reality of what we’ve done

All in the name of the almighty dollar

No not the Jamaican dollar

Uncle Sam has no use for pocket change. 

But as a developing country 

We sell it all in the name of foreign exchange.

It’s the price we pay for the development

The price of tourism 

We lose us 

To please them 

Stripping away culture, years of history, and heritage

To make it the perfect tourist wonderland.

Heritage sites 

Painted in bright colors

Littered with shops, food, and gift items alike

Ancestral pathways paved for the comfort of Massa’s youngest 

History has no place in the new world 

We prove it each time we whitewash buildings 

Retell the adventures of the men who raped the island and continue to do so even in death.

Because we only see the pretty picture

That’s all they want us to see

While we continue to pay the price for tourism

It’s the going rate of the entrance fee.