School Fees

When I was really young… grade five or six. Definitely in that range, I remember this classroom drama around school fees. At the beginning of the year they were due, and a few weeks later the teacher would write the names of the students who owed fees and how much on the top right corner of the blackboard. I remember telling my mom that she needed to pay the school fees.

Weeks went by and more and more names were taken down from the corner. It got smaller and smaller until it was just me. And she started asking me why I hadn’t paid them yet. I kept making ridiculous excuses because I knew the real reason was bad. I also felt compelled to give her a reasonable answer, as she was in authority.

I was poor. Somehow I knew it was bad to be poor. I’m going to have to reflect on that because I’m not sure where I learned that. I couldn’t just say ‘sorry, I’m 12, and I don’t think we can afford this’. That was the answer, and as an adult I now understand she must have known that as well.

She simply felt the need to torment me in front of my peers every few days.

I’m sure of something. I needed stable and healthy relationships with my teachers at that age, and what I got was ridicule for my poverty. I needed an adult who would see me and treat me fairly, and foster an environment of equality. I hope teachers are doing better these days.