Smile, Jamaica
I think we can all admit that these past couple of years have been a true test of one’s resolve. The natural circumstances of life, mixed with the rising inflation rates and the overall cost of living increases, have made the air around us heavy. At the same time, I have rediscovered pieces of myself that I was starting to no longer recognize. I’ll explain the weight at a later time, but it has honestly forced me to think my way out of the proverbial corner, on some “block my body, can’t trap my mind”, 97 Hov shit.
I recently saw a “talking head” video, and in it, the woman had just come to a realization. Her thought was that healing and maturing have killed some of her ambition to pursue “more” in life. I would’ve never come to this thought on my own, but I will admit that lately I have been asking myself “why” after spending months developing an idea. I’m more conflicted now than ever before. In fact, I sometimes wonder why I am still chasing this planted idea of the American dream and instead have started to consider what life would look like removed from it all.
Back in 2024, we took a trip to Jamaica for a Pilates retreat with Jungle Johanna, the legend, so we decided to touch down a few days prior to hang with Daniel in Kingston. It had been years since I had seen bro, someone whom I spent many days and nights with in the early stages of my photography journey; someone whose mother made sure I referred to her as Auntie. Being in Kingston and experiencing the pace, the warmth, and the vibrancy of the locals reminded me of why I love travel so much.
I’ve been a traveler all of my life, thanks to the experiences my parents afforded us growing up. From playing travel sports to taking family trips in our Expedition, and eventually taking college trips, travel is where I learned to expand my understanding of the world. Fast forward to my first international trip as an adult, and I came to the realization that I eventually wanted to explore options for my future home when the time came. Every trip since has forced me to think of these new countries as possibilities as opposed to random fun.
Not having an ancestral connection to any place but the US, at least as far back as I can trace lineage, has its benefits but also is a bit saddening as well. All I know is the US; all my family knows is the US, and leaving this place, despite how hostile our experience has been, means the possibility of leaving a warmth and vibrancy that I am familiar with. What I look for most in these places that I travel to is a warmth and vibrancy that makes me feel at home. Jamaica has a feeling that is rich and unapologetic in its expression of self and praise of the ancestral land we all come from.
Every time I think back on or revisit the images from our Jamaica trip, in conjunction with everything else going on, the question of “Why?” continues to resurface. The conflict within myself has started to feel like two paths leading to two different realities. On the one hand, there’s a version of me that keeps chasing the dream, keeps creating in an attempt to continue to climb and garner attention while doing what I love. On the other hand, I can see myself living in a country where the pace is a bit more reasonable, surrounded by the freshest of foods, having accepted a much richer quality of life. But what does this mean, and which choice is the right one?
It doesn’t feel like either answer is wrong, and in my mind, I believe both are obtainable. But as we inch closer, in this country, to a reality where the subtle food is no longer assumed to be poison, we just accept it as a fact. Are we losing our chance to accept a different reality than we are currently experiencing? I’m never going to stop creating, and I don’t believe I have it within myself to give up on the dream, but the question lingers, and the voice asking it gets louder.