Dear Editor,

One thing is absolutely certain. Melissa did not simply pass through like a storm; she delivered a masterclass on priorities that our education system desperately needed.

Before she arrived, schools were busy performing for an audience that was not even watching, arguing over hemlines, hairlines, and sock colours as though these were the cornerstones of academic success. Some schools went so far as to lock children out, turning school gates into battlegrounds over grooming rules that had absolutely nothing to do with learning.

Yet look at us now. Three months later and suddenly none of that matters. Pupils are turning up in whatever they can find: short shorts, tight jeans, oversized shirts borrowed from cousins, colours that clash like Carnival and Christmas meeting on the same day. And you know what? They sit. They listen. They learn. Because learning was always the point, even when we forgot it.

Homes were swept away. Clothes disappeared. Families lost everything except their determination to continue. And in all of this chaos, our education system finally remembered its first love — children. At last the focus returned to what truly matters: presence, nourishment, safety, and learning. These are the things that grow a child. These are the things that shape a nation.

Let us be honest. Should this not have been our focus from the very beginning? Did it require a storm with Melissa’s strength to rip away unnecessary rules and show us how absurd some of them were? We spent entire terms wrestling over appearances, disciplining pupils for having hair an inch too long or trousers a shade too bright. We turned small things into mountains, forgetting that children already carry enough burdens.

And now, in a moment when barbers themselves have no electricity, when some communities are going weeks without power, can we genuinely turn a child back because their hair is “too high”? Both you and I know the answer to this.

Now those same pupils walk into school wearing whatever life has left them, and suddenly it is acceptable. Suddenly grammar lessons can continue even if the trousers are red. Suddenly manners are not directly tied to the colour of a pupil’s socks. Suddenly the sky remains firmly in place.

Melissa stripped the system to its bones and said, “This is it. This is what matters. Children. Learning. Full stop.”

And let me be clear. No one is saying rules must vanish into thin air. Rules guide behaviour. They create structure. But rules should never become barriers. A rule that blocks a child from entering a classroom is not discipline. It is deprivation. It is a quiet violence. And our children deserve better.

Parents are travelling from one parish to another just to ensure their children can access a lesson. That alone tells us everything. Education should not be a fortress guarded by uniform checks. It should be a lighthouse that remains steady, especially in storms.

Melissa reminded us in the most dramatic, unforgettable way that the heart of education is simple: ensuring that children learn at whatever cost, not punishing them for circumstances beyond their control, not throwing them out for the bare minimum of life. Learning. Learning above everything.

When a new school year begins, I pray we will not slip back into old habits. Let the memory of Melissa sit on the shoulders of our schools like a reminder carved into the wind. Focus on the children and everything else will fall into place.

Donnette Morris

morrisdonnette075@gmail.com