Is it really Integration that we mean?

Currently, I am involved in the research phase of a project, that will culminate in a play that deals with black power next year, which will be the 40th anniversary of 1970 Black Power (misnomer)= Revolution in Trinidad and Tobago. I am also doing another course that seeks to introduce us to the world of Caribbean thought, via arts and cultural studies. The course is called, Critical Readings in Caribbean Arts and Culture, or something of the sort. Recently in that class, after taking up the task (in a group project), of giving a critical interpretation of Walcott's Nobel Prize lecture, one of the coordinators sought to clarify WHY we needed to know about all these "thinkers". When speaking of Walcott, though Antilles covers much deeper ideas of home (which the coordinator did speak about), exile, Our Edenic opportunity, and what threatens us now as a people, he thought it necessary to quote Walcott as saying "I am only one eighth of the writer I would've been had I been born in Trinidad." Which is a misquote. The real quote, says " I am only one eighth of the writer I might have been had I contained all the fragmented languages of Trinidad" (pg 69 What the Twilight Says essays) And I mean who wouldn't? In a place as ethnically, religiously and culturally multifarious as Trinidad, who wouldn't have much more to write about, many more images to deal with, many more world views, many more conflicts. Not to mention the fact that there is a University in the midst. This coordinator IS someone that I have a lot of respect for, but I questioned why he saw it necessary to say that. But there was something paradigmatic about it.
When I first came to UWI, there was a sort of Mega Ice-breaker called UWI Life, which sought to get students properly assimilated into the University Life and with it, Trinidadian culture and so forth. Which is understood. We do not exist in a vacuum. We are part of the Trinidadian society while we are here. A question was asked about a nobel prize winner from Trinidad and Tobago, other than Naipaul. I was obviously confused at that point. And heck! I did want the prize, so I began brainstorming. Then I heard the answer, can't recall if it was the host who gave the answer or if someone thought of it. It was Sir Arthur Lewis. Who, well, is a St. Lucian by birth, education, up-bringing you name it. Now this is no nationalistic argument, I assure you. I am not one of those competitive nationalists of the Caribbean.
As I am writing this note, my housemate came to me (after returning from a Spanish class) saying that his lecturer asked him, what is Derek Walcott, to which he responded "a St. Lucian" (as they were dealing with nationality). The lecturer responded, " no no no, what is he at heart." My house mate was confused. "He is a Trinidadian at heart" was the lecturer's response. Now, I am aware of Walcott's great affinity with Trinidad. I am also aware of his inherent problems with Trinidad as well which one may find in the Interviews entitled " Conversations with Derek Walcott." And also, Walcott makes clear in The Prodigal, that home was indeed in St. Lucia. And I am sure that these people follow Walcott's work enough to know that he states emphatically "Mwen se' jean Ste. Lucie, is there that i born." But that's besides my point. I am not, and have no need to claim Walcott for St. Lucia. However, the problem is that this is part of the constant undermining of particular islands in the Caribbean, and it is part of the process of claiming the successes of the Caribbean.
One thing is important to note. Trinidad, Jamaica and Barbados, where Universities lie, are the putative intellectual hubs of the Caribbean. Obviously. That would explain Lamming's, Walcott's and other writers' fascination with Trinidad. Me being one of those (aspiring) writers. I am fascinated with the existence of such a Cosmopolitan, multifarious, multicultural (and so on) society existing in the Caribbean, especially being from an island like St. Lucia when the demographics are a lot simpler to understand and deal with. We have a black majority, an indian minority, and a mulatto/ white elite minority. So I would find the complexity of Trinidad alluring. However, what has been created is a sort of fealty relationship between these "intellectual/cultural hubs" and the other smaller islands; a sort of Bourgeousie/ Proletariat relationship where the Means of production is intellect. And it is a specific kind of intellect, that which is attained through structured, institutionalized education, and of course the new ideas that this sort of education may engender. This exists on a cultural level as well. A lot of the time when people speak of Caribbean integration, I think they speak of the smaller islands becoming subsumed in one of the supercultures of Barbados, Trinidad or Jamaica (more so the last two). Thus, Walcott and Arthur Lewis, paragons of Caribbean thought, must at heart be from somewhere other than one of those smaller islands.
Even in the study of the Black power which I mentioned at the beginning, and among all other things, there is a gravitation towards the orotund, the Mega-statements of a movement, rather than the insidious, modest revolts that existed. For instance, the Blue Blouse Theatre in Stalinist Russia. One does not need to focus on the loud speakers all the time, but on the little pensive whisperer, who, because of the skew of the wind, may not get heard. How that whisperer will get heard is by the hearers going closer to him. That is one of the failed parts of Caribbean Media, intellectualism and (endeavours at integration) a failure to look at the smaller islands and what they have contributed to the Caribbean, not the "Re-massa-fication" (if memory serves me right, I am borrowing this term from Dr. Humphrey Regis, if not, then its my term :D) of the Region. That is the last thing we need, this re-Massa-fication. In all honesty, in many aspects (especially culturally) Trinidad is the Chimera of the Caribbean. Trinidad culture, and the idea of Trinidad itself was built upon a fusion, or boullion of cultures and traditions from other caribbean islands along with whatever was indigenous to it at the time. Many trinidadians may not even know that a lot of their culture came out of countries like Barbados. For instance, the Moko-jumbie. (correct me if I am wrong). The further we move from this insular view of ourselves (and I am speaking of the smaller islands in this respect as well) we are staring at, the wider our vision. Thus, we should be able to see the Caribbean in its fullness, whether dealing with black power, political revolution, rebellion, or anything that is part of our history. We must look at Desmond Trotter, The Brigands, the Grenada Revolution (which many know LITTLE about). Listening to talks of integration and of "where is home" which Earl Lovelace sought to examine with us in the first lecture of the Critical Readings course, we must let go of our insularities, and our pride in being from a particular piece of earth, and begin to create an egalitarian and all-encompassing idea of who we are, of integration, of home, instead of expecting the smaller, less-noticed countries to come under the "cultural and intellectual" umbrella of Jamaica, Trinidad and Barbados, merely because their economic situation is more fortuitous that that of the smaller islands.