being away from home, family, and friends, but there was never any cause for me to feel unwelcomed there.
After almost a decade, I again visited California for two weeks in 1998. I loved San Diego because of all the entertainment available there. I again visited in 1999 for approximately six months. I was with my daughter, and we had some neighbors with whom we had some real fun time. We traveled around a lot, even going to Mexico. I think this was the first time that I had the belief that I could actually live away from my beautiful Jamaica. At no time during these visits can I remember hearing the word racism ever been mentioned. San Diego, California, was a favorite, and unto this day, it is still a favorite. I believe the people are genuine and very friendly, and San Diego has a lot to offer. I was, however, happy to return to my home.
With encouragement from my daughter who was then serving in the military, I decided to migrate to the United States, and in 2001 after receiving a green card, I migrated to San Diego, California. My shock came when I started my job search and realized that in the United States, experience or education from another country was not regarded. It does not matter how qualified you are or the experience you have, without that piece of paper with United States at the top, you cannot get a decent job unless you have someone to pull a string.
The idea that your experience along with your qualification from another country doesn’t count in the United States leaved me baffled up to this day. I realized that Americans have this weird idea that their teaching is better than that of other countries, far from the truth. I also realized that a degree does not guarantee you a decent paying job. I had never worked two jobs in my life, but now, I was looking at that reality. I now realized that to survive, I would have to work two jobs because the $6.50 per hour which I received at my first job could not support me. I learned that people were in monetary problems because you could not live without a credit card. This was a cultural shock to me. I had given up a managerial job with a good pay to come here. I never owe on a credit card because I paid my bill every month in full. The card was only for convenience. Now it was too late, I had pulled up my roots and was now in the United States and I had to make it work so I took the job for $6.50 at Walmart and that was the beginning of my life story in the United States.
In spite of what people say about Walmart, it has been one of the better places I have ever worked here. I felt that my cheap labor was appreciated. The manager at my first store was very considerate and appreciative and the staff was very friendly. I think the opportunity that Walmart gives for upward mobility needs recognition. Within the space of two years, I had moved from floor associate to cash office associate and then customer service manager, and I could pay my bills without working two jobs. The person responsible for staff welfare was very good at her job and was always planning events that made staff feel appreciated.
I also learned that not only the customers, but workers had sticky fingers and were ready to steal from the store at any opportune time. It was surprising to see the lack of respect by customers who took merchandise and scattered them all over the store. I had never seen anything like this before. When the self-checkouts were installed in the store, it made stealing much worse. Customers understood how to remove a barcode from a cheap item and put it on an expensive item. I still think self-checkout is a big mistake, but retailers prefer for dishonest customers to use this method to steal than to pay cashiers.
In May 2005, I moved to a store in Linden, New Jersey, and that was one my biggest regret. Management was poor, workers were indiscipline, and stealing was the norm. I was not accustomed to this type of behavior, having been in management most of my time in Jamaica. Yes, we had problems with staff in Jamaica, but I had never seen the disrespect I saw in this store and the few shopliftings was mainly by the customers, not the staff. To make matters worse, management believed that staff members behave like they did because they were from the ghetto areas, and instead of helping them to learn how to behave in the workplace, they ignored them. This situation continued to get worse, so after four and a half years, I left Walmart and went into the healthcare profession.
Not being accustomed to the American way of life relating to workplace, I thought this job would allow me to live the life I was living at Walmart. Working in a health care in New Jersey where there was a union allowed me to continue working one job. There was a yearly salary increase, so there was something to expect. I realized that there was barely any room for advancement in this field; however, I was willing to stick with this job. Things were going okay until I relocated to Georgia in 2006.
I learned about the price of Georgia homes from a coworker in New Jersey and realizing that this was within my reach, my sister and I started exploring the opportunity. We both purchased a townhome each and packed and moved to Georgia to start a new life. We checked for wages in our field, and based on what we saw online, we believed that this would be a good move; however, we were in for a shock on arrival. The town house was great, and I still love my house, but the hourly pay offered to us was surely a disgrace. The cost of the house was about one-third of what it would have cost in New Jersey, but the food was no cheaper and the pay at most places was minimum wage. We had no choice. We had packed and moved, and now, I had to start doing overtimes in order to pay the bills. Working in a health care gives you the satisfaction of helping people, if this is what you like to do. However, except for the patients, there is barely any sense of recognition from employers. All they care about is their bottom line, but the survival of the hardworking staff who does the “dirty work” is not of any concern to them.
I have worked in businesses where the first thing I have to do is to go to the computer and do an online learning course about unions and what evil they are. I heard how you can go to the office and speak with the manager and achieve the same goal as you would paying money to a union to represent you. I know that this is a lie from the pit of hell, and this is a way to manipulate workers and prevent them from getting a yearly raise, uniform, a free lunch, or proper vacation and sick time. I was with a union in my health care job in New Jersey, and because of that, I think I was treated fairly. I left that job because I was relocated and have never found any other that treated workers fairly. I should say that Walmart was the only other place where I could speak with the manager, the only place where you can move up to a manager’s position.
Today, after eighteen years in the United States, after all the changes in cost of living, employers are still paying the minimum wage of $7.25 to employees in some states, including Georgia. The minimum wage was raised to $7.25 in 2009, and to date, ten years later, it still remains at $7.25. This is a disgrace. The United States—which boasts that it is the richest, the best place, the most progressive place—is still robbing employees of a fair day’s pay for a fair day’s work. The same employers who cannot live on $100,000 per month think that their employees can adequately live on $1,200 per month. And to make matters worse, whether you take a half-hour lunch or not, they dock your pay for the half hour.
I often wonder how employers in the United States go to bed and sleep. Everybody in the society cannot be doctors, lawyers, or administrators, etc. Some have to be the laborers. They have to work in the retail stores, the nursing homes to take care of your loved ones, in your home to sit with your loved ones, in the school to keep them clean for your children, and the list goes on. Why are these people not paid for the hard work they are doing on a daily basis?
My sister got frustrated, walked out of the house, and went back to New Jersey. I, on the other hand, decided to stick it out. This was not easy, and for the first time in my life, I ended up with credit card debts I am still trying to settle. There are times when I look back on my life in Jamaica and regret the day I had ever migrated to the United States. “Why?” you will ask, and my answer will be that my most difficult time of survival is since I came to the United States. I had an apartment that was paid for in full, a car that was paid for in full, and no credit cards debt. I was living a good life, but I wanted to be in the fool’s paradise.
There are many people who migrate to the United States, and when they realized that the grass is not always greener on the other side, they returned home. I had given up too much and would have to go back to start all over. Some Americans think that everybody who migrate here from another country was living in poverty. Most of those who think this way have never left the shores of the United States and some have never left the State in which they were born and are so uninformed that they barely know the difference