Vacation and Privilege

I'm on vacation. What a privilege.

This vacation is part of a tradition that started in my childhood. It's such a part of my routine, I call it a pilgrimage. My parents used to scrimp and save for the archetypal American vacation, yet they could only do it their way. They sent my sister and me to my mother's parents home in the hills of Jamaica for several weeks, then joined us later for their break from work before we kids had to start the school year. I thank (or blame) my parents and their yearly trips home on why I treasure my time on this little island in the sun. For many years, I confounded people and called our summer vacations my trip "home" as well. My teenage poetry contains an ode to Jamaica, calling it the place where my soul was born.

Dramatic teenage writing aside, now spending time with my family here is not just important but also an act of privilege. It's not lost on me that many of the relatives I visit or the people we do business with here don't get to take lavish tours. I stay in that same quaint town my mother grew up in, so I see the real country along with the postcard-ready tourist areas. I can't help but hear Jamaica Kincaid's voice in the documentary Life and Debt describing the division between tourist and native.

On the other side, too many of my fellow Americans aren't guaranteed any time off from work. Many who are even granted paid leave (not a protected right) don't take it because of the cost and pressure to perform at work. (This is where I should admit how many times I checked my work email today, but we'll skip that for now.) I don't have a significant amount of data, but I believe there's a part of the illness in how Americans treat each other rooted in an absence of leaving home and observing a regular time of rest. Creating an other is difficult if you see and interact with people who don't speak, pray, eat, or love like you do. The Bible (and other sacred books) uphold the example of rest. In my faith tradition, God rested after creating the world. Must I, his servant, continue to work if my labor is in His worship?

I recognize the fortune in my days away from the commute, bills, and daily annoyances. Privilege can be a weighty thing. Not recognizing it yields arrogance, ignorance, damage to others. Seeing it and holding it becomes mournful, sad, guilt-ridden. With the happy memories of my family (passed on and still around) buzzing around, I refuse to turn any vacation to Jamaica into anything negative. The Twitterverse gave me a word on this before I left: turn privilege into action. That's easy: using local vendors and spending with native companies means we give back to the community that welcomes us. When we do business with foreign brands, picking ones that do good here is helpful. Being good stewards of the land and resources means we don't leave the island worse than we left it. My family and I travel back here during Jamaica's most important cultural season, so we celebrate what it means to be Jamaican and why we love it so much. There's more we could do, but the idea is rest.

Speaking of, I feel a nap coming on. I hope you enjoy a great vacation this year. And if you do...I know a place.