Echoes of Laughter

In Memory of Juliet Wilson

By Dianne Dunchie-Coley

It was in August 1992, during the orientation week for new students at Shortwood Teachers’ College, that I first met Juliet Wilson. Although we did not speak much during that initial week, we soon discovered we were enrolled in the same programme, Linguistics and Literature.

Shortwood Teachers’ was fun. I still remember the shared meals we cooked, the duppy stories told of Sir Henry Morgan and his stable attendants on the campus, and the playful traditions that made orientation unforgettable. On the final night, the seniors who ran the programme stripped our beds of their mattresses, leaving us with only sheets, and even switched the main power terminal in an effort to teach us resilience.  I laugh as I remember the Freshman song that echoed across the campus:

“Seniors are the best, yes, they are the boss,
Seniors are the best, yes, they are the boss.
They give us food to eat, they make us take a bath,
They show us that they care, yeah yeah yeah.”

Our group, Linguistics and Literature, was proudly called the “G Group”—1G, 2G and 3G. Those years were filled with laughter. I can still hear Juliet and I laughing at the nicknames June Kelly and Sharon Bogle invented for the corned beef and cabbage served at lunch: “cow hiding in di bush.” Juliet often complained the portions were too small, and June would encourage her to “dus and tress”—go back for seconds and thirds. Those light hearted moments made Shortwood not just a place of study, but a community.

Juliet entered Shortwood having already built a career in banking. She was older than many of us and quickly became a guiding presence—warm, confident, and encouraging, much like a mother figure within our cohort. From the beginning, her dedication to her studies set her apart. She approached every assignment with remarkable discipline, often rewriting and refining until she was fully satisfied with the result. Her efforts bore fruit: at the completion of her studies, Juliet graduated with a First Class Honours diploma, an achievement that reflected her commitment to excellence.

Juliet’s intellectual curiosity was evident in her interactions with our lecturers, particularly Mr. Peter Maxwell. His lectures captured her complete attention, and she absorbed every word with the fascination of someone determined to deepen her knowledge.

College life brought many memorable moments. We studied together under the Wisdom Tree, reviewed past papers late into the night, and practised diligently for Applied Linguistics, Elizabethan Literature and Testing and Measurement. Juliet’s presence made even the most challenging study sessions enjoyable, and her commitment to success inspired those around her.

Juliet often joked that “mad men always pick on me,” though it was clear that these incidents caused her embarrassment and sometimes fear. I remember one weekend when Juliet and I went to Montego Bay, where she visited an apartment she had once lived in. While in the town square, a mad man in Sam Sharpe Square took a liking to her. When we managed to get away, she asked, “Why me? Why mad man always chase mi?” We laughed together, but I could tell the incident had unsettled her. Again, years later, we went downtown to Haywood Street to do some shopping. Out of nowhere, a raggedy man walked up and kissed Juliet on her cheek. It frightened her, though in time we could laugh about it.

When we taught at Kingston College, we lived in the same apartment complex. There were many evenings when Juliet and I would sit in each other’s apartments, sharing meals and reminiscing about  the good ‘ole’  days at Shortwood Teachers’ College. Those moments of sisterhood and reflection remain dear to me.

 Our paths crossed again at the University of the West Indies, where we both pursued degrees in English Language Education. I can still hear her words, “Mi nuh waan nuh nasty pass.” Juliet carried with her the same motto that had defined her studies at Shortwood: For Juliet, it was never sufficient to merely succeed. She aspired to excel. And again she received a first class honours degree from the University of the West Indies.

Later in her journey at Kingston College, Juliet’s diligence and strong leadership qualities were soon recognised. She rose to the position of Vice Principal for Academics, a role in which she excelled.

Although life eventually led us in different directions, our friendship endured across time and distance. In  January of 2020, after many years apart, we were able to reconnect over a meal with a fellow batchmate. It was a joyous and refreshing occasion, filled with laughter and shared memories. None of us could have foreseen that on September 20, 2020, Juliet would be taken by the COVID-19 pandemic.

Juliet’s laughter still echoes in my memory, whether it was over “cow hiding in di bush” at lunch, the freshman song that united us in mischief, or her mock complaints about never getting enough to eat. Those simple, happy moments remind me that beyond her brilliance and discipline, Juliet also knew how to enjoy life, to share joy, and to lift the spirits of those around her. It is this balance, her dedication to excellence coupled with her warmth, humour, and generosity, that makes her legacy so enduring. For all of us who knew her, Juliet Wilson was not only an exceptional educator but also a dear friend whose light will never fade.

 And so, whenever I think back to Shortwood Teachers’ College, I cannot help but remember Juliet with a smile. Here’s to a remarkable educator, and an even greater friend. May her memory continue to inspire us all