Ruthlyn James | Why Jamaica needs a national parenting system, not just parenting advice

THERE IS a quiet revolution in Jamaican homes, not loud enough to make headlines, but powerful enough to reshape a generation. It is not driven by activism, legislation, or community change. It is driven by exhaustion, economics, shifting values and a fast-moving digital world that has outpaced culture, tradition and parental presence.

The scale of what is happening cannot be ignored. In Jamaica, it is estimated that only about seven to eight per cent of children’s mental-health needs are currently being met, leaving the overwhelming majority without adequate support. A recent CAPRI situational analysis revealed that nearly 45 per cent of children report symptoms of anxiety, while trauma, disrupted attachment and unresolved emotional stress continue to alter early brain development. These numbers are not abstract, they reflect children sitting in classrooms, shelters and living rooms, silently overwhelmed and poorly supported.

For many Jamaican children today, parenting no longer means guidance or emotional anchoring. It means food in the fridge, Wi-Fi, a charged device and someone present in the house, even if emotionally absent. Children are not growing up with adults, they are growing alongside them, navigating life with limited scaffolding or relational mentoring and in too many cases, Jamaican children are raising themselves.

NO SPACE FOR HEALING

Parents today are raising children in a world radically different from the one they grew up in. The support systems of the past; extended family networks, community involvement, stable routines and predictable neighbourhood culture, have all weakened. Parenting has shifted from interaction to provision. Many parents are not absent because they don’t care. They are absent because they are overwhelmed ­– juggling jobs, long commutes, rising costs and emotional fatigue. For some, unresolved trauma remains untouched because survival leaves no space for healing.

For thousands of children, silence and obedience are now achieved through a screen, the quickest path to compliance. Screens don’t argue, don’t need patience and don’t require emotional presence but they also do not teach empathy, emotional regulation, value formation, social reasoning or resilience. Since Hurricane Melissa, screen reliance has deepened further.

In affected communities, screens have become more than entertainment; they are now emotional anaesthetic. A mother in Burnt Savanna, St Elizabeth said, “Mi just wish him could use the tablet … it would tek him mind off everything”. But lack of electricity and Internet service expanded her grief. Her words were not neglect; they were fatigue and survival. When life becomes overwhelming, parents lean on whatever stops the crying and repetitive trauma questions and the device does that instantly.

EMOTIONAL DISCOMFORT

Screens now function as both distraction and relief, triggering dopamine, the brain’s reward and comfort chemical. Each scroll or notification offers a micro-dose of temporary regulation that feels easier than sitting with fear, uncertainty or emotional discomfort and after national trauma, the craving for that internal numbing increases. Even children in Kingston are absorbing distress: overhearing adult worry and watching frightening images circulate on social media. In a hyper-connected nation, trauma travels faster than storms. So, while technology has been a lifeline for communication, distraction and temporary relief, it has also created an emotional paradox: children are increasingly soothed by screens but increasingly disconnected from caregivers.

Some of our children cannot wait, sit quietly or tolerate being bored. The brain adapts to what it receives repeatedly. When childhood is saturated with fast-paced animation, scrolling feeds, quick scene changes and constant novelty, the nervous system wires itself to expect speed and instant reward. Slower environments begin to feel uncomfortable. Silence feels foreign, stillness feels agitating and waiting feels like punishment.

This is not simply behavioural; it is neurological. And when overstimulation meets under-supported emotional development, we see what many are now reporting: frustration intolerance, emotional dysregulation, shallow coping skills and withdrawal masked as attitude.

The hopeful truth is this: the same brain that learned overstimulation can learn regulation. However, it requires relationship, consistency and presence. Reconditioning is not punishment; it is gentle rewiring. It happens when we reduce passive screen time, reintroduce boredom as a developmental tool, model emotional regulation, create predictable routines and rebuild connection through play, meaningful conversation and shared moments. Today, too many children move through life without meaningful guidance and without it, emotional literacy, identity grounding and resilience remain underdeveloped. This is not simply a parenting issue; it is a collective alarm.

Layered onto this already fragile landscape is the emotional aftershock of the hurricane. Children in affected parishes are demonstrating heightened anxiety, sleep disturbance, behavioural regression, sensory overwhelm and increased dependence on caregivers. Patterns consistent with post-disaster stress responses. For children whose nervous systems were already under strain from economic instability, community violence or developmental vulnerability, the hurricane did not simply create a new trauma it compounded an existing one. This reminds us that trauma and emotional regulation are inseparable and underscores the urgent need for consistent supportive adult presence, trauma-responsive services and relational scaffolding to help children restore a sense of safety, stability and belonging.

The real question is: “Are we building a Jamaica where parents can be present?” Because a child was never meant to raise themselves and a parent was never meant to do it alone.

Parenting should never depend on personal endurance alone, we must build emotionally supportive systems; community parenting hubs, trauma-responsive schools, digital hygiene standards and intergenerational mentorship. These must become part of our national framework. No child should grow up beside an overwhelmed parent and no parent should be expected to do the work of a village alone.

Ruthlyn James is the founding director of Adonijah Group of Schools Therapy and Assessment Centre. Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com