Dear Editor,

A few weeks ago, while waiting in line to use an automated teller machine (ATM), events took an interesting turn.

As is customary in our society, when an ATM is temporarily unavailable we wait patiently to use the ones that are available. However, this practice was not readily accepted by a Caucasian woman when she approached the dysfunctional ATM. Though fellow customers gave the usual alert that the ATM was out of service, she was not appreciative in the least. Instead, she was furious.

“They need to get this fixed right away!” she shouted as she stormed to the bank door. The security guard on duty was seemingly reluctant to open the door. She demanded: “You’ve gotta get someone to fix this machine now, right now!” He responded: “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but the bank is closed for the day.” Unfortunately, these words acted like fuel to a fire. The woman’s volume increased as she repeated her demand.

By that time I had used an available ATM and was on my way out of the building. I couldn’t help but notice the laughter that exuded from the queue. For some reason I didn’t find it funny. As I journeyed home the unusual experience lingered in my mind. Why were they laughing at her when we were the ones to be laughed at? We have normalised our dysfunction. Why should our wait in line be extended because of faulty ATMs? Why aren’t we demanding they be fixed immediately? Why have we become so accepting of the “simple” injustices of our society? Why? These thoughts and more bothered me greatly.

Following that enlightening experience, I remained on high alert for other evidence of how we normalise injustice. Little did I know that it would have been so close to home.

For those educators who anticipate the 25th of each month, it is a joy when we check our calendars and realise that pay day will be early. This excitement usually builds as the day draws nearer. “Finally, pay come!” are the words I waited eagerly to say; unfortunately, they were forced to rest at the back of my throat as my brain worked assiduously to figure out this unusual delay.

I was concerned. Thankfully I acted on this concern and made a few phone calls. The lady who assisted me was quite helpful, but after finding the issue, the words she spoke echoed in my thoughts: “You were taken off the payroll.” At that moment my heart felt as if it had collapsed and my knees were no longer strong enough to hold my body. Thank God there was a chair nearby! “Hello, are you still there?” said a concerned voice from the receiving end, I replied, “Yes, I’m sorry, I’m still here. I’m just in shock.” The advice she gave, thereafter, was appreciated, but it couldn’t suffice. After processing what had taken place, I acted immediately.

I had questions, many questions. This was my third encounter with the Ministry of Education regarding my salary! But why? Are there unwritten rules that principals and teachers should supernaturally discover? Are there invisible instructions that appear only when a teacher has not been paid? Here’s a good one: “New teachers don’t normally get paid in the first month, enuh, so sorry.” If this is the norm, why isn’t this stated upon employment? Why is it the norm for one to work tirelessly for an entire month, only to be told, “I’m sorry, you won’t get paid until next month.” This was my first unfortunate encounter with the Ministry of Education. At that time, though I knew it was unfair, I settled for the norm.

They say the third time’s a charm, but in my case this third time is my time to stand up for justice, this third time is my time to ensure that these unwritten rules become written and these invisible instructions become visible.

Consequently, this third time is one more unfair treatment that has pushed me closer to the US embassy.

This third time is one more unpaid salary that has made migrating much more attractive.

This third time makes me wonder about the myriad educators who have suffered in silence because “a suh e guh, a suh di system set”.

We need a change, we need better communication, and we need it now.

I truly hope that change comes not only to the education system, but to our nation.

Wake up, people of Jamaica! We have a voice, let’s use it.

Shanae H Patterson-Carruthers

shannaepatterson21@yahoo.com