Other People's Kids

Not one day passes where I am not acutely aware of the enormous task which is being responsible for the emotional and physical safety of other people’s kids. For six hours each school day for the past nine years I have been required to have my eyes in at least 25 places at once and listen to almost as many conversations at any one time.

Working in a primary school and spending time with the same group of students day in and day out, for at least a year at a time, it is impossible not to form strong connections with many. Teachers are unable to do their jobs properly without knowing the backgrounds of their students, understanding what triggers their emotions and knowing their strengths and weaknesses. Parents trust us to be a substitute for them during the hours they are away from their children and this is a role we take on willingly, despite its magnitude.

On a daily basis teachers make hundreds of split second decisions in order to maintain a sense of order and balance in the school classrooms and playground. Largely, we try to protect students from each other, from hurtful words and painful blows. While we are unable to protect all students 100% of the time, the majority are handed back into the care of their parents, essentially unscathed, around 3pm each day.

In December last year when a gunman made a choice to walk into a US school and take the lives of 26 people, 20 of whom were children, we were all affected. In Australia we could try to distance ourselves emotionally, due to the illusion created by geography, but in reality no empathetic human being could be untouched by this event.

When America’s Fridays are our Saturdays, our teachers were at home with their families and wouldn’t see their students for two days. I spent a large proportion of these two days envisaging the plan of action my school could take should such a threat become a reality for us.

I considered the fact that our school is the same size as Sandy Hook Elementary. Our kindergarten area is closest to the entrance of our school. Our external doors lock from the outside. I would need to go out, first, before I was able to lock us all in. Our school is largely glass. Glass walls between rooms, large windows and glass doors. There are very limited places to hide. Four out of every six classrooms have store cupboards of various sizes. Two out of every six rooms have no store cupboards at all.

Watching Glee tackle the subject of school shootings, in Shooting Star (4x18) was a heart wrenching experience for many. I watched the episode, as many did, with dread weighing heavily in my chest and tears in my eyes. I could try to distance myself from these feelings by saying, ‘it’s only television’, ‘this is an American show’, ‘those kids are in high school’, but I spent the entire episode thinking about the students I teach every day.

The episode was written and directed surprisingly well (I’m completely ignoring the portion in which a love song was dedicated to an obese cat) and the actors proved themselves worthy of their titles. I am sceptical, however, about whether or not any of the content of this episode will appear at any time throughout the rest of the season. It is very Glee to pat themselves on the back and say ‘okay so, teen suicide, we’ve done that’, as though sandwiching it between a couple of good song and dance routines serves that topic well.

As a real teacher, in a real school, I am constantly astounded by the fact that this show offers very few of its characters adequate support in times of trial and crisis. The most disturbing example of this occurred when Sue Sylvester showed her ‘support’ for the emotionally distressed Becky Jackson by helping to sweep the problem under a Glee emblazoned rug.

For me the final scenes, in which Sue is walking out of the school with 20 years of teaching in a cardboard box, are as disturbing as the final scenes of the 1999 film Arlington Road. Shifting blame to an innocent character certainly calms the waters. It gives people a visual representation of a crime and allows them to feel safe that the ‘problem’ has gone away. What Sue did wasn’t noble. They wrote her as the ‘Finn Hudson’, the hero, but what they did was stupid. Nobody knows Becky Jackson thought a gun was the answer to her woes and if nobody knows, Becky Jackson doesn’t receive support.

This image, coupled with the footage Artie shot on his phone, when the Glee club were afraid they may not leave the choir room alive, sent chills down my spine. I want to say they did this well but too much of it doesn't sit right with me and when America’s Thursday is our Friday and I won’t see my students for another couple of days, I’ll spend the weekend trying to think of how I can hide 26 kids, who belong to other people, in a room with no store cupboards and glass walls.