Literally every single time Trinidad and Tobago lands in the international arena, regardless of the reason and without fail, someone will pop up to remark that we should be grateful that someone has deigned to “put us on the map”. I’m befuddled.

Much digital ink has been spilled (wasted, some might say) discussing the most recent reason T&T has found itself in international headlines, so I surely won’t waste any here recapping the latest reason some have been calling for the confiscation of a certain prominent Trini’s birth certificate. Suffice to say that no one should be surprised that the person who once told the world that nearly a quarter of Trinbagonians are living with AIDS and is currently dealing with some serious allegations against herself and her husband managed to stir up this particular controversy at this particular point in time.

What’s interesting is the way, even as T&T became the punchline in countless jokes about a nonsensical vaccine claim, like clockwork, some Trinis found it in themselves to declare that we should be grateful as T&T has been “put on the map”.

Obviously, I was familiar with the concept of putting something on the map before I returned to sweet T&T, but never in all my days have I heard the phrase used in as bafflingly consistent a manner as when literally anyone in the ‘First World’ utters the words “Trinidad and Tobago”. Considering how often we say it (and how often we show up on the international stage, relative to our size), I’m genuinely curious as to what it will take to keep us on the proverbial map and how we keep falling off.

While it’s obviously great when a Trinbagonian makes their mark globally and shines a favourable light on their roots, I cannot, for the life of me, fathom why so many of us are so desperate to be mentioned elsewhere, particularly by people who know next to nothing about us (and display no real interest in learning).

I’m not being facetious. I am painfully clear on how the cultural dominance of certain countries (and certain demographics within those countries) can leave one feeling desperate to see oneself represented as prominently as others. What I cannot grasp is letting that desperation cause one to cling to any reference as a net positive because, well, at least dey saying we name, right?

I enjoy Trevor Noah as much as the next person, but if his only on-camera reference to T&T had remained his attempt to mimic the accent, I could’ve lived with that. Not because our Health Minister didn’t handle himself well; given the topic at hand, he displayed an admirable level of grace. It’s just that something is very wrong when yet another government minister has to stoop to respond to the addle-brained comment of a person who clearly doesn’t know very much about us but claims us publicly enough to be seen as an authority on this nation by people who don’t know better. Even as he was correcting the record, she was busy claiming that Trinbagonians struggle to access Instagram, which must’ve made for a wild ride a few days later when the same folks managed to have certain posts removed from that very platform.

All of which is to say that perhaps the aspiration shouldn’t be to have others mention us, but to speak for ourselves. Right here on our shores are a myriad of people willing and able to show the world who Trinbagonians really are and what we’re capable of. We have no shortage of people who know our culture better than many of the rest of us do and have the talent to share it with the world in compelling and authentic ways.

That most of them don’t have access to global platforms to share a representation of T&T going beyond sea, sun and pretty mas is due in part to the fact that we don’t elevate them. We’re too busy looking outside, looking to those who don’t know us to tell the world who we are. Some of us are so grateful when they stoop to mention us and our culture that we don’t care if they butcher it in the process.

Perhaps this is because many of us don’t know who we are. Not really. We talk endlessly about being cosmopolitan but we rarely take stock of what that means, of the whole that is made up of so many parts blended together in a way you won’t find anywhere else. So when someone who has only tasted a tiny spoonful of the magnificent callaloo that is T&T repackages it as collard greens, we ignore the fact that it eh hah no dasheen in dat pot and grin because ‘at least dey mention we’.

If no one else has told you, let me be the first: we can do better. We can tell our own stories. In fact, no one can do it better. We can showcase our own culture, our own folklore, our own unique beauty.

But we have to grasp it for ourselves, first.