There’s nothing quite like a lively conversation over a game of dominoes about our homeland, the U.S. Virgin Islands. During a recent gathering with friends and family who consider the U.S. Virgin Islands their home, the discussion began, as usual, with updates on recent events, including who has passed away, who is unwell, and who is going through a divorce. It’s the typical mix of gossip that often comes up first. One person who had recently visited chimed in with a critical review: “We’re going backward. Carnival and the festivals are not the same anymore. They don’t feel joyful like they used to. People are afraid of getting shot!”
The conversation quickly shifted to a familiar cycle of lamenting our community’s ongoing issues. We covered the usual list: rampant shootings that leave people afraid to gather, a hospital system in crisis, constant outages from WAPA, shuttered businesses, the eyesore of dilapidated buildings in our towns, a troubled school system, the stalled ballpark and racetrack, and a generation of young people facing a lack of good-paying jobs. The list kept growing, as it always does.
As a Virgin Islander, engaging in these conversations can often feel overwhelming. They can be emotionally draining, leaving you feeling sad, helpless, and distraught, often accompanied by guilt for living on the mainland instead of back home, where you might make a difference. It’s the type of guilt that survivors of a crash or fire often experience; you start to question whether you could have done more to help others. Why me? Did I sell out? It’s disheartening to see that conditions in our community don’t seem to be improving; if anything, they appear to be getting worse, regardless of which party or individual is leading the executive branch.
During our get-together, someone posed a challenging question: Who among us would be willing to return home? The conversation quickly became awkward. “That’s a hard question,” one person mumbled, while the unanimous response was, “Not me!” Another person added, “I love home; it’s where my people are, and I have family there.” However, going back and staying home is incredibly difficult. I often feel like a stranger there, and finding work is a challenge. You need a lot of money just to afford rent, buy a house, or even survive, let alone make frequent trips for healthcare.
Later, we had a tough discussion about the challenges facing our community, and someone brought up the gubernatorial elections. “So, who is going to be the next governor?” they asked. This sparked another round of animated discussion about potential candidates, leading to the question of who is truly qualified or brave enough to take on the immense responsibility of bringing about change. Unfortunately, most of the names that surfaced were familiar ones: well-intentioned, perhaps, but shaped entirely by the system they would be asked to change. None of them has had to compete, build, or lead outside the comfort of government. That is a problem.
Do our people realize how complicated the job of governor really is? It is indeed a complex role. Unlike governors in other states, the governor in our territory, in addition to their traditional responsibilities, must perform the duties of the school board president, the city mayor, and the county executive. It’s a unique combination of state and local roles. And people think it’s a highly paid job, and it is not! It is a sacrifice for any highly qualified person who can earn twice as much or more in the private sector.
Anyone chosen to be the governor of our precious territory must be innovative and creative, possessing the courage and resourcefulness needed to address long-standing, challenging issues. They need to be visionaries with fresh ideas. It is essential that they think strategically and can engage with corporate leaders while effectively interacting with federal officials in Washington, DC. This role is not suited for a typical bureaucrat!
We need to explore successful models from other jurisdictions to identify strategies that may work for us. For example, Barbados has effectively attracted remote workers and successfully repositioned its economy. Similarly, Puerto Rico has used federal tax incentives to encourage private investment. We could enhance our Economic Development Corporation (EDC) program by examining various models and case studies. While these examples may not provide perfect solutions or be directly applicable to our situation, they underline the importance of considering options beyond our own borders and election cycles. This is the standard we should strive for when selecting our next governor.
Change will not occur if we simply keep doing the same things or rely solely on hope and prayer. It will happen when we, both at home and those gathered around domino tables on the mainland, hold candidates to a higher standard and refuse to settle for what is safe and familiar. Our islands deserve better than that. Deep down, every Virgin Islander at that table understands this truth.
—Carmelo Rivera is a management, public affairs and human resources consultant with decades of experience in the public and private sectors. A graduate of the University of the Virgin Islands and the State University of New York at Albany, he has served as a University of the Virgin Islands business instructor, Virgin Islands labor commissioner and planning and natural resources commissioner, as well as president of the St. Croix Chamber of Commerce and chairman of the Hospital and Health Facilities Corporation.
—Trina Soto-Clarke is a Virgin Islands native and communications and events executive with more than 20 years of experience across government, tourism, and public affairs. A former member of the USVI Department of Tourism and Department of Human Services teams, she lives on the mainland and remains deeply connected to her homeland.
Editor’s Note: Opinion articles do not represent the views of the Virgin Islands Source newsroom and are the sole expressed opinion of the writer. Submissions can be made to visource@gmail.com.
