A few weeks ago I got smashed by a student. It was interesting how shocking it was when volatile, aggressive, uncontrolled behavior is not that uncommon at our school or in our community. Or even in our society. But it was indeed shocking. I was shocked.
Why was I shocked? The day before my colleague was verbally abused by a student who was physically intimidating and extremely violent in his threats. His threats were so abusive that she was sent home for her own safety- as it was impossible to remove him in the state he was in. This was shocking and not shocking, he has been verbally abusive towards staff before, not regularly, maybe twice in the 2 years I’ve been here. He is one of my students and he has never been disrespectful or aggressive in my class or towards me in any way. I sit beside him and help him with his work, he is clever and articulate but has difficulty getting his ideas into English words on the paper. He is funny and makes jokes, he is restless and regularly walks in late, walks out “I need water Annalea” (“I’ve had enough for now and am going to smoke in the toilets now Annalea”). He is strong in culture and has a family who is very powerful in the community. He plays football and goes hunting. And apparently he would like to smash up my colleague, kill her dogs, kill her potentially…A shocking but perhaps not surprising glitch in the never-normality of our lives…
So the day after I was on lunch duty and while my back was turned and I was putting stinky uniform shirts into the laundry basket (because part of having a Masters in Education means I get to do students’ washing every day) when suddenly I felt an incredible force hit me from behind and my head snapped all the way backwards then flipped all the way forwards again. I was shocked and confused enough to think:
• Wow, I didn’t know my head could go back so far.
• What just happened?
• That was so hard my hair has fallen out of it’s sad excuse of a hair clip (this is not surprising, my hair falls out of anything at the slightest excuse – I can bite down on an almond and it all falls out)
• I wonder if I just looked as freaky as the little girl out of the Exorcist movie whose head does a 360.
• What just happened?
• Oooooh, that’s gonna hurt…
So I turned around to see what happened and an irate kid who had been doing the wrong thing – and was severely pissed off for being reminded he was doing the thing – was being held back by an older student and yelling “Fuck you! I’m going to fucking smash you!” And I thought:
• Smash me? Again? But you just did!
• Right, he’s extremely mad, get the fuck out of here.
• What just happened?
So I walked out very quickly only to have students yelling out at me and pointing behind me. I turned to see the irate boy coming after me with a wheelie bin yelling “Fuck you! I’m going to fucking smash you! I’m going to fucking kill you!” and I wondered:
• If he’s still threatening to smash me and hasn’t actually done it again, does that mean he’s calming down?
• Even if he can lift that bin, is he strong enough to throw it at me?
• How fast can I run in thongs?
So it was pretty awful. I felt pretty awful – and extremely sore, my first experience of whiplash. Apparently even though it was interesting to see how far my neck can go backwards without snapping it isn’t an unplanned experiment that should be repeated unless I want to walk around with Frankenstein-like stiffness. And it was awful having to decide what to do in response to the incident particularly, what to accept and what to challenge. What to take a stand on or ignore and walk away from.
But I don’t think it was an incident only possible because it involved a particular boy from a particular place or culture. I have felt that threat of violence before – in Melbourne bars after 12pm, towards me/other staff and other students at my previous job in a mainstream middle class school, from the type of guy or girl that is a bad drunk and gets argumentative and aggressive, at a game of footy – on the field and off. I don’t blame a boy or place or culture, I may blame aspects of a society that throws money at a problem then turns it’s back when that hasn’t worked and offers jail as a consequence. Ultimately that violence is there, we all know it, we have all sensed it. I don’t know what or if we can really do anything about that part of human nature. The only thing I really know is that it was shocking – it’s not the norm for me, for most of the students, for other staff, other people in the community, for most of us it’s not acceptable and that at least is a positive.
Some people come here and think they can change the world all by themselves-that’s annoying – but others think we can’t make any difference at all. They’re both full of shit, there are incidents every day that allow for hope, change – for an individual or group. Things that happen that are awesome and awful, that we have no control over, but then we can choose and that can make or not make the difference.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Sunday, January 15, 2012
The Art of Learning
I have been travelling around the north island of New Zealand with my friend, her 5/12 year old daughter and her cousin. Not your usual road trip crew but it has been lovely. And of course I have learnt a lot from the 5 ½ year old – sometimes I think they should e the teachers and anyone over the age of 28 should be in their classroom.
What I have learned…
Fashion tips: if the colour of the scarf doesn’t suit your skin, tie it around your waist (seriously smart!)
Priorities: Drink your wine, then we’ll play cards.
The joy of playing the game even if you aren’t winning (where the object is to lose your cards): Oh goody, I get another card! Now I have more, yay!
The importance of questioning everything: Why are you a teacher? Why do you have tattoos? What is your favorite colour? What is your other favorite colour? What is your favorite word? What do you call the colour of your hair? What are you eating? Where are we going? How long will it take to get there? Are we going to the beach? Are you going to swim? What does that taste like? What does that say? What flavor ice cream did you get? Why?
All about kids cartoon characters – there are some very annoying creatures on TV…Wonder Pets sing all the time and are so cute they make me suicidal at 8.30am and the half cat half dog character is up there with Ren and Stimpy in potentially evil weirdness.
That everything mundane is better when explained in a made up song: “We’re driving around lots of windy roads and there is sometimes rain and sometimes sun….We’re going to the beach and I’m going to have a swim…”
Rhianna aint all that bad, especially when sung very loudly from the backseat by a 5½ year old.
How to ribbon dance in the bar of a very quiet, classy restaurant. And enjoy it.
It doesn’t matter how old you are, if the very cute barman catches you ribbon dancing in the bar of a very quiet, classy restaurant you will feel a little embarrassed.
How bad my memory is: Yes, we stopped on the way remember and you got a coffee near the McDonalds and I went to the toilet and then we had a drink in the cafe. (No, I didn’t remember any of it even though it was only 3 days ago…)
Argue for what you want.
It is important to verbalize your excitement: Yay. YAY! Oh, goody! I love this! This is my favorite – or one of my favorites.. This not only enhances your own excitement but reminds more boring people that we should be excited at least 10 times a day.
Democracy should reign-ish: OK we’re going to choose which card game to play – when I say the names, you have to say which one you want to play. No – net (Russian)-which one do you REALLY want to play? NO-NET! Which one! (until you get the answer right..) OK, tell me which one of these 3 ideas would be the best present for my boyfriend (I did tell her I probably wasn’t the best judge of this). No-net! That is boring! Which other one?
You should be proud of any achievement, even if it means you look like Mr. Miagi wearing your swimming goggles and swallow more water than tread. Making it to the edge of the pool in a desperate doggy paddle should be celebrated by all.
Having an audience turns nothing much into something wonderful: Ok, everyone look at me; dance, swim, twirl, put in my hairband…
Organization is a necessity: OK, first we will eat then I will have my chocolate then we will go and play a game then we will all go and see if there are frogs in the pond then we will watch me swim.
Gratitude is directly related to happiness: (On her way to her first win of Fish) Oh Goody, I have 2 pair of 8’s! I’m soo lucky and soo happy!
The joy of bearing witness to others’ achievements: On our last night of the road trip, Malika won “Fish” for the first time. And therefore it was the best game we played-for her and for me.
So thank you to the very beautiful, vivacious and bright as a button Malika for reminding me of the important things in life, the many little things worth celebrating. It is always a pleasure learning new things and if you can gain a little wisdom from a 5½ year old who is sweet and smart and full of insight then all the better.
What I have learned…
Fashion tips: if the colour of the scarf doesn’t suit your skin, tie it around your waist (seriously smart!)
Priorities: Drink your wine, then we’ll play cards.
The joy of playing the game even if you aren’t winning (where the object is to lose your cards): Oh goody, I get another card! Now I have more, yay!
The importance of questioning everything: Why are you a teacher? Why do you have tattoos? What is your favorite colour? What is your other favorite colour? What is your favorite word? What do you call the colour of your hair? What are you eating? Where are we going? How long will it take to get there? Are we going to the beach? Are you going to swim? What does that taste like? What does that say? What flavor ice cream did you get? Why?
All about kids cartoon characters – there are some very annoying creatures on TV…Wonder Pets sing all the time and are so cute they make me suicidal at 8.30am and the half cat half dog character is up there with Ren and Stimpy in potentially evil weirdness.
That everything mundane is better when explained in a made up song: “We’re driving around lots of windy roads and there is sometimes rain and sometimes sun….We’re going to the beach and I’m going to have a swim…”
Rhianna aint all that bad, especially when sung very loudly from the backseat by a 5½ year old.
How to ribbon dance in the bar of a very quiet, classy restaurant. And enjoy it.
It doesn’t matter how old you are, if the very cute barman catches you ribbon dancing in the bar of a very quiet, classy restaurant you will feel a little embarrassed.
How bad my memory is: Yes, we stopped on the way remember and you got a coffee near the McDonalds and I went to the toilet and then we had a drink in the cafe. (No, I didn’t remember any of it even though it was only 3 days ago…)
Argue for what you want.
It is important to verbalize your excitement: Yay. YAY! Oh, goody! I love this! This is my favorite – or one of my favorites.. This not only enhances your own excitement but reminds more boring people that we should be excited at least 10 times a day.
Democracy should reign-ish: OK we’re going to choose which card game to play – when I say the names, you have to say which one you want to play. No – net (Russian)-which one do you REALLY want to play? NO-NET! Which one! (until you get the answer right..) OK, tell me which one of these 3 ideas would be the best present for my boyfriend (I did tell her I probably wasn’t the best judge of this). No-net! That is boring! Which other one?
You should be proud of any achievement, even if it means you look like Mr. Miagi wearing your swimming goggles and swallow more water than tread. Making it to the edge of the pool in a desperate doggy paddle should be celebrated by all.
Having an audience turns nothing much into something wonderful: Ok, everyone look at me; dance, swim, twirl, put in my hairband…
Organization is a necessity: OK, first we will eat then I will have my chocolate then we will go and play a game then we will all go and see if there are frogs in the pond then we will watch me swim.
Gratitude is directly related to happiness: (On her way to her first win of Fish) Oh Goody, I have 2 pair of 8’s! I’m soo lucky and soo happy!
The joy of bearing witness to others’ achievements: On our last night of the road trip, Malika won “Fish” for the first time. And therefore it was the best game we played-for her and for me.
So thank you to the very beautiful, vivacious and bright as a button Malika for reminding me of the important things in life, the many little things worth celebrating. It is always a pleasure learning new things and if you can gain a little wisdom from a 5½ year old who is sweet and smart and full of insight then all the better.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
A kiss
I close my eyes for sleep and I dream of kissing.
The kiss where your face is held and you can’t feel your toes, it feels like there is no other part of you existing except for that kiss.
Because when my eyes are open, sometimes I feel
so empty, the weight of it dragging my feet, worried that if I step down too hard, the earth will crack open and dirt and leaves and debris will begin crawling up my legs, to cover and swallow and bury me.
Heartbreakingly lonely. For my friends, my family, for the people I love and miss continuously. Every time I see a part of myself it revolts me; a limb, a toe, an eye so singular and detached. A desperate insect flying at the glass jar wall, time and futile time again, to break free.
Disappointed. For having had a life, a lifestyle, for being a person that was liked and loved and had meaning. For somehow feeling responsible for losing that and knowing, really, I can’t get it back.
So fucking homeless; a life in boxes stacked one on another, lifeless, useless, meaningless. The things that were part of a place, that fit with friends and events and laughter now echoing and stagnant in a cement container.
Lost, aimless, directionless. I remember who I was but can’t picture, no matter how hard I try, who I might be. Living in the present, desperately gripping, clinging to each day, each moment before it moves into a void of tomorrow.
Haunted.
Wasted.
But when I close my eyes, I breathe, a small moment of darkness and quiet where I dream of a kiss. And it is enough to allow the tiniest glimmer of hope. Enough to go to sleep to. Enough to get up for.
The kiss where your face is held and you can’t feel your toes, it feels like there is no other part of you existing except for that kiss.
Because when my eyes are open, sometimes I feel
so empty, the weight of it dragging my feet, worried that if I step down too hard, the earth will crack open and dirt and leaves and debris will begin crawling up my legs, to cover and swallow and bury me.
Heartbreakingly lonely. For my friends, my family, for the people I love and miss continuously. Every time I see a part of myself it revolts me; a limb, a toe, an eye so singular and detached. A desperate insect flying at the glass jar wall, time and futile time again, to break free.
Disappointed. For having had a life, a lifestyle, for being a person that was liked and loved and had meaning. For somehow feeling responsible for losing that and knowing, really, I can’t get it back.
So fucking homeless; a life in boxes stacked one on another, lifeless, useless, meaningless. The things that were part of a place, that fit with friends and events and laughter now echoing and stagnant in a cement container.
Lost, aimless, directionless. I remember who I was but can’t picture, no matter how hard I try, who I might be. Living in the present, desperately gripping, clinging to each day, each moment before it moves into a void of tomorrow.
Haunted.
Wasted.
But when I close my eyes, I breathe, a small moment of darkness and quiet where I dream of a kiss. And it is enough to allow the tiniest glimmer of hope. Enough to go to sleep to. Enough to get up for.
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