Carolyn Cooper, Contributor

Cooper

Where are the young men who are not undergraduate students at the Mona campus of the University of the West Indies? That's a question I haven't heard anyone ask in all the hysterical talk about gender politics in Jamaica today. Incidentally, hysteria used to be viewed by the patriarchal medical profession as a peculiarly female affliction.

The English word 'hysteria' actually comes from the Greek hystero, meaning womb.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines hysterics in this way: "A functional disturbance of the nervous system ... usually attended with emotional disturbances or perversion of the moral and intellectual faculties. Women being more liable than men to this disorder, it was originally thought to be due to a disturbance of the uterus."

These days, men have equal-opportunity rights to hysteria, whether moral or intellectual. And I see that Mr. Cedric Wilson has put himself into the category of men who don't do well at reading comprehension, as revealed in his article, "The Economics Behind Gender Imbalance," published in The Sunday Gleaner on October 26.

Mr. Wilson fails to understand the perspective on gender politics I offer in my provocative article, "Who Margin-alised Men?" Insensitive to the ironic tone of the question, he concludes that my answer is "So what?" And he dismisses my analysis as "flippant." He just doesn't get it.

So, where are the "missing" men? Quite a few of them are actually students at other campuses of the University of the West Indies.

Following the example of our present Mona campus principal, Professor Gordon Shirley, many young men go to the St. Augustine campus in Trinidad to study engineering. With professional schools distributed across the three campuses, students have to travel to their programme of choice.

Then, there are all those young men studying in North American universities. The prospect of migration to the U.S. lures both male and female students who get the opportunity to be employed there on graduation. It's a strong pull factor that is often underestimated in analyses of why highly qualified students choose not to attend the University of the West Indies.

MALE-DOMINATED PROFESSIONS

Locally, the University of Technology attracts large numbers of male students who enter professional programmes like architecture, land surveying and engineering. In the early years, the student body was predominantly male. But women have now surpassed men. The present male:female gender ratio is 45:55.

Despite these advances of women, some professions remain stubbornly male. A few Fridays ago, I was the guest speaker at the annual dinner and awards function of the Land Surveyors' Association of Jamaica. I was appalled to discover that of the 115 commissioned land surveyors, only two are female - a mind-boggling gender ratio.

At the Northern Caribbean University, the overall male:female gender ratio is 26:74. But not surprisingly, the ratio varies, depending on the discipline. In the College of Teacher Education and Behavioural Sciences, the male: female ratio is 13:87. But in religion and theology, it is 97 per cent male to three per cent female. It would appear than men are closer to God than women.

CREATIVE INDUSTRIES

And what about the young men who are not in university at all? Is their work to be discounted? Just think of all those young men working in the creative industries - singers, songwriters, DJs, 'riddim builders', studio engineers, producers, lighting and sound technicians, and mobile CD sellers.

I have been conducting informal interviews at Hellshire with some of the young men selling CDs. These are compilations, cut and mixed by sound men, and reproduced for sale in a growing cottage industry. In response to the sales pitch, my first question usually is, "Di artist dem a mek anyting offa di CD?" And I launch into my self-righteous little speech about intellectual property rights.

The young men patiently assure me that many artistes actually approve of the compilation CDs, which help to buss dem since their tunes are not always played on the radio. That shuts me up temporarily. Then, I continue to fass in the young men's business: "So how much yu mek in a good day?"

They explain that after they take out their expenses - the cost of the blank CD, the fee for the sound man who creates the mix, burning the CD, travel, etc. - they don't do too badly. They are careful not to tell me the exact figure. But, as one of them put it, "Is better dan a work in a man wholesale downtown, an a mek $2,000 a week."

One of the CD sellers told me he had just invested in a computer. Not a brand-name one from a big store. It had been manufactured by a young man in his community and had far more memory than a commercial model. All kinds of technical knowledge and self-created jobs abound in our country but this fact is not often taken into account in official labour-market statistics.

The entrepreneurial skills of these CD sellers remind me of Mutabaruka's wicked quip: "Whole heap a people a do management studies but nobody naa do owner studies." Muta's "owner studies" translates into entrepreneurship. This is a talent that many university students simply do not possess. They have been trained into passive consumption and regurgitation of "knowledge".

Our focus on book learning and certification often makes us devalue native intelligence. We don't always understand that entrepreneurship must be cultivated. University graduates, even in management studies, cannot assume that they will just "get" a job. They will have to take ownership of job creation.

I know I'm at risk of being attacked by hysterical people who don't understand, what they read. So, let me make my position absolutely clear. I value both formal education and native intelligence. We must respect all those people who have been failed by the formal education system and have learned to use their brains to create jobs for themselves. And, we have to acknowledge the processes of informal education by which all kinds of skills are passed on from generation to generation.

Every morning I hail up young men who come to work in my neighbourhood. They are painters, plumbers, stonemasons, carpenters, electricians, gardeners and so-called 'unskilled labourers'. They are all doing productive work. Most of them don't have any certificates to prove their expertise. On this score, I must congratulate Pearnel Charles for his renewed advocacy of the certification of skilled workmen and women.

RASTAFARI REASONING

We also forget that a great deal of intellectual activity in our society takes place outside the formal school system. The Rastafari practice of communal reasoning reminds us of the way knowledge is passed on in traditional African societies.

One Sunday morning, Buju Banton came to my home looking for a copy of John Jackson's Introduction to African Civilisation. He wanted it for his study group. Some of us contemptuously assume that DJs are not intellectually inclined. But if you listen to Buju's lyrics, you know they originate in a sophisticated mind.

And intellectual curiosity is everywhere in our society. It is not limited to academia. Just last week, one of the young electricians who works at the University of the West Indies asked me for a copy of my dancehall book. He's not 'in university' but he is certainly interested in learning. Which is much more than can be said for many university students who simply want the piece of paper they think will guarantee them a 'good' job.

MODUS VIVENDI

Marlon Hanchard, a barber at the Liguanea Upper Cut establishment, is a classic example of the ambitious young men who are not in university but are doing valuable work. He has taken a couple of courses at the UWI's School of Continuing Studies on South Camp Road. But his main occupation is barbering, in which he takes great pride. He plans to own a shop in due course. Marlon is also a DJ and 'riddim builder' on the side; and he was a finalist in the bmobile 'Singles' competition, winning the popular vote. So you know, 'im full of 'imself.

A few weeks ago, he showed me a draft of his mission statement. He had been helping a friend with her homework in principles of business and decided that a mission statement was an excellent idea. I made a few suggestions about cutting out some of the big words. Marlon just ignored me.

On another occasion, he asked what modus vivendi meant. When he told me he had come across the expression in a newspaper article, I wondered which 'eedyat' had been showing off in print. I explained that it was Latin for 'way of living' and Marlon gleefully announced that he had to put it in his mission statement.

So, if you go to his station you will see his mission statement, elegantly framed and proudly displayed. It says, in part, "disinfection and sterilisation which stand adamantly at the forefront of my business reflect my modus vivendi - cleanliness is next to godliness." Go deh, Marlon!

Many university students are not at all curious about the meaning of unfamiliar words. For several years I have taught a class 'African/Diaspora Women's Writing.' Every single year, at the very first class, I ask what 'diaspora' means. Sometimes not even one student can answer. All they know is that the course is supposed to be good, so they sign up for it. I'd rather teach an intellectually curious barber than a complacent university student any day.

Many young men are finding creative ways, as in barbering, to make a decent living.