Culture, Sustainable Development and Women’s Rights in the Caribbean

The whole world celebrated International Women’s Day on Sunday, March 8th, 2026 under the theme, “Give and Gain.” But as we in St. Martin joined in the celebrations, we are faced with a stark reality: the sustainable development of our island and region is inextricably linked to how we recognize, codify, and amplify the input of our women.

Historically, Caribbean women have been the primary navigators of survival in the wake of plantation economies. From the "hucksters" and "higglers" who maintained informal trade networks when formal systems failed or were non-existent, to the radical activists who fought for labor rights and decolonization, women have always been the engines of systemic change.

Their input is not merely subordinate, secondary or "supportive"; it is foundational. Yet, much of this labor remains in the informal sector—unrecognized, unquantified, and largely absent from our national balance sheets.

To continue to ignore their contribution is to slam the breaks on our progress; while to empower them is to unlock the full potential of our people.

But this is easier said than done, especially in a world in which, according to the World Bank, “women enjoy barely two-thirds of the economic rights accorded to men.” The Bank further identifies several obstacles that prevent the full participation of women in the economic life of their societies. These include safety, child care and entrepreneurship.

In the Caribbean, there are also certain cultural “anchors” that militate against achieving the sustainable development goals defined by the United Nations, particularly SDG 5 that deals with gender equality.

While Caribbean culture is a source of immense pride, several ingrained socio-cultural norms act as structural barriers to the professional and personal advancement of women.

Let’s take an honest look at some of these specific cultural roadblocks.

1. The Paradox of the "Strong Caribbean Woman"

Perhaps the most significant cultural barrier is the pedestal of the "Strong Black/Caribbean Woman." Though it may have been intended as a compliment to our women’s resilience, this trope has become a policy trap.

By considering a woman’s "strength" - i.e. her ability to endure hardship - as a cultural trait, government and the community often abdicate their responsibility to provide support systems for women. This “culturalization” of the “strength of a woman” (Shaggy’s hit song of that same title comes to mind) romanticizes women’s "struggle," making it culturally acceptable for women to carry the "Triple Burden" of productive labor (work), reproductive labor (child-rearing), and community management.

This impedes one of the main aims of SDG-5, which calls for the recognition of unpaid care and domestic work. When a culture expects a woman to be a "superwoman," (there are a few popular songs of that title, also) it views burnout as a personal failure rather than a systemic lack of infrastructure (like, for example, affordable childcare).

2. The Legacy of Hyper-Masculinity and "Machismo"

Caribbean societies often define masculinity through dominance and the "provider" role, even when economic realities are changing. This creates a culture of fragile masculinity where female economic success is sometimes viewed as a threat to the household hierarchy.

In some communities, this manifests itself as "gatekeeping," where men may discourage their partners from seeking higher education or leadership roles or even working outside the home in order to maintain a traditional power dynamic.

This directly conflicts with another SDG objective, that of ensuring women’s full participation in leadership and decision-making roles. If the cultural "ideal" of a leader remains tied to aggressive masculine traits, women who lead are often labeled "bossy,” “manly,” “the one wearing the pants,” or "unfeminine," thus creating a psychological glass ceiling.

3. Normalizing "Gender-Based Violence" (GBV)

While laws against domestic violence do exist, cultural attitudes often treat it as a "private matter,” something that should remain behind the closed doors of the family home.

This creates another impediment.

Proverbs and popular culture (including certain lyrics in Caribbean musical genres like Reggae, Dancehall, Calypso and Soca) abound that tend to normalize the objectification and sexualization of women’s bodies and the “policing” of their movements.

There is a persistent culture of blaming the victim where a woman’s choice of dress or her presence in certain “male spaces" such as bars is used to justify sexual harassment. “She looked for it,” we sentence a female victim of such sexual misconduct mercilessly.

This violates another target of gender equality which is the elimination of all forms of violence against women and girls. A society cannot achieve equality when half of its population operates under a constant, low-level threat of violence that restricts their freedom of movement and economic participation.

4. Religious Conservatism and Bodily Autonomy

The Caribbean is deeply rooted in various faith traditions which, while providing social cohesion, often hold rigid views on gender roles.

Conservative interpretations of religious texts are frequently used to justify keeping women out of high-level leadership positions, including in the clergy itself. How often have we not invoked Scripture to keep women in a subservient position. A wife must obey her husband, we quote the Bible as saying, because he’s the head of the family. Whose then the “tail”?

Furthermore, these views heavily influence public policy regarding reproductive health. This creates a conflict with the goal of ensuring universal access to sexual and reproductive health and rights.

In many Caribbean islands, cultural-religious stigma prevents comprehensive sex education and restricts autonomy over reproductive choices, which are essential for women to plan their careers and lives.

5. The "Old Boys' Network" and Informal Gatekeeping

Despite women often outperforming men in regional universities (at a ratio of nearly 2:1 in some territories), the "boardroom culture" remains a closed loop.

What we can call the “Lime culture" and informal social networking often happen in spaces that are traditionally male-dominated (bars, certain sporting clubs, etc.). Career-defining decisions are often made in these informal settings, where women—often burdened with late-night caregiving duties—are absent.

This undermines the goal of equal rights to economic resources. It isn't enough to have the degree; if the cultural "rules of the game" for promotion favor informal male bonding, as they often do, women will continue to hit a mid-career plateau.

Deconstructing the "Norm"

In my humble opinion, to achieve the UN-established SDG 5 by 2030, (that is just 4 years from now), the Caribbean (St. Martin included) must carry out a Cultural Audit. This means:

• Re-socializing the "Caribbean Man" to see equality as a benefit to the family unit, not as a loss of power.

• Legislating the Care Economy to force the recognition of labor that was previously "hidden" under the guise of "a woman’s duty."

• Media Accountability to ensure that our cultural exports (music and film) do not reinforce the stereotypes that keep women in a subordinate position.

In light of all the foregoing, we must reassess the cultural significance of the Caribbean woman who we often romanticize as the "matriarch"—the resilient, long-suffering pillar of the family. However true it may be, this narrative often obscures her role as a sophisticated economic and social architect - the builder of families and of nations.

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