You really are able to judge a man by his character during times of conflict. That's a scary thought considering how many of us respond to challenge. I have my own little habits that rear their ugly head when I'm stressed...and often even when I'm not stressed.
Today started out as any other day, and things were looking a little hopeful. My team won field day. I had visions of completing and turning in lesson plans. They were not meant to be. During 3rd period this morning, the fire alarm went off, and I trotted out to the field muttering obsenities about how unfair it was to pull me away from my oh-so-productive planning time. (In case you failed to catch the drop of sarcasm there, just keep in mind that most of my co-workers thought I had gone off campus to get coffee when they couldn't find me.)
By 3:00, we circled the fence of the school, walked on a traffic-stopped road to a nearby park, loaded 1800 middle schoolers on buses, dropped them off at a local high school, fed them, corraled them, and eventually made it back to our school an hour and half after the school day should have been over. All this for a little joke a child played threatening to blow up the school today...and for an ominous (empty) suitcase someone left near a trash can.
What amazes me more than the feat we accomplished today is the reaction of parents. I understand being worried about your child. I understand wanting to wrap your arms around your child. Hell, I even understand the frustration of watching a crowd of professionals run around the chaos and cacophony the follows that many teenagers in a confined space. What I don't understand is what you expect to accomplish by yelling or crying or threatening.
In an emergency--especially an emergency that has NEVER happened before to this degree--one cannot possibly know what to expect. Of course mistakes were made and lessons were learned. Unfortunately, I'm not sure the people who needed to learn the most even paid attention to the living lecture. Take a deep breath. Count to ten. Do a little dance. And follow the freakin' rules! They really are there for a reason...mostly to keep a little order to the process.
I guess I just can't understand what you're supposed to do. They want their child released, but don't want to wait for their identification to be checked. That's great, but lawsuits would be flying by these same people if we let their child wander off with someone not on the approved list. They want answers to their questions, but won't stop yelling long enough to hear them. They want to be kept up to date of the developments, but complain that the automated system used to get the information to them in a reasonable amount of time only works when they let us know they changed their phone number for the third time since September.
My head is still reeling from the magnitude of what happened today. I was in the middle of it all, struggling to maintain a semblence of order in a hallway filled with some real troopers who just went along with the flow. Oh well, it's just another day in the public school system. (The misunderstandings, not the bomb threat!)
Today started out as any other day, and things were looking a little hopeful. My team won field day. I had visions of completing and turning in lesson plans. They were not meant to be. During 3rd period this morning, the fire alarm went off, and I trotted out to the field muttering obsenities about how unfair it was to pull me away from my oh-so-productive planning time. (In case you failed to catch the drop of sarcasm there, just keep in mind that most of my co-workers thought I had gone off campus to get coffee when they couldn't find me.)
By 3:00, we circled the fence of the school, walked on a traffic-stopped road to a nearby park, loaded 1800 middle schoolers on buses, dropped them off at a local high school, fed them, corraled them, and eventually made it back to our school an hour and half after the school day should have been over. All this for a little joke a child played threatening to blow up the school today...and for an ominous (empty) suitcase someone left near a trash can.
What amazes me more than the feat we accomplished today is the reaction of parents. I understand being worried about your child. I understand wanting to wrap your arms around your child. Hell, I even understand the frustration of watching a crowd of professionals run around the chaos and cacophony the follows that many teenagers in a confined space. What I don't understand is what you expect to accomplish by yelling or crying or threatening.
In an emergency--especially an emergency that has NEVER happened before to this degree--one cannot possibly know what to expect. Of course mistakes were made and lessons were learned. Unfortunately, I'm not sure the people who needed to learn the most even paid attention to the living lecture. Take a deep breath. Count to ten. Do a little dance. And follow the freakin' rules! They really are there for a reason...mostly to keep a little order to the process.
I guess I just can't understand what you're supposed to do. They want their child released, but don't want to wait for their identification to be checked. That's great, but lawsuits would be flying by these same people if we let their child wander off with someone not on the approved list. They want answers to their questions, but won't stop yelling long enough to hear them. They want to be kept up to date of the developments, but complain that the automated system used to get the information to them in a reasonable amount of time only works when they let us know they changed their phone number for the third time since September.
My head is still reeling from the magnitude of what happened today. I was in the middle of it all, struggling to maintain a semblence of order in a hallway filled with some real troopers who just went along with the flow. Oh well, it's just another day in the public school system. (The misunderstandings, not the bomb threat!)
Comments
Glad you were safe, though.