Sable Monroe

We Weren’t Pretending to Be Rich. We Were Pretending Not to Be Poor.

People often imagine poverty as something obvious. Empty refrigerators. Ragged clothes. Children with no shoes.

But there is another kind of poverty that hides in plain sight. It’s the kind where a family works very hard to make sure no one realizes how much they’re struggling. Looking respectable becomes another bill to pay.

That was the kind of poverty I remember.

When I was growing up in Jamaica, I wasn’t the child who got called to the principal’s office because I was causing trouble. More than once, I was called because my tuition hadn’t been paid on time or a cheque had bounced. As a child, I didn’t understand budgets or cash flow. I only understood the embarrassment of being singled out.

Looking back, I also remember my father’s side of the family in Waterhouse. Money was clearly tight, yet appearances seemed incredibly important. There was nice furniture. The dogs were well fed. At the same time, I remember adults sometimes skipping meals. As a child, that made no sense to me.

Pretending not to be poor is expensive.

It costs money, but it also costs peace of mind. It costs children a sense of security. Children notice far more than adults realize. They may not understand mortgages, debt, or bounced cheques, but they understand tension. They understand whispered conversations about money. They understand being told, ‘We can’t afford that,’ while feeling pressure to look like everything is fine.

I sometimes wonder what would have happened if all the energy spent maintaining appearances had been invested in creating stability instead. Maybe the furniture would have been less impressive. Maybe the neighbours would have had something to say. But perhaps the children would have carried less anxiety.

I don’t say this to judge my family. As an adult, I understand that pride and dignity matter. Sometimes people are trying to protect themselves from shame as much as they’re trying to protect their image.

But I wish more adults thought about what financial instability feels like through a child’s eyes.

Today, I don’t care about looking wealthy. I care about being financially stable. I care about paying my bills on time, sleeping peacefully, and never making a child feel responsible for adult financial problems.

To me, that’s what wealth really is. Not pretending everything is okay. Actually being okay.