Last September, Ana was excited to begin secondary school. She had passed for her second choice, a government secondary school. When she started, she was a bit overwhelmed and found it difficult to make friends but generally, she enjoyed school. By the middle of October, two students in her class had started picking on her. They took her lunch, ridiculed her, forced her to do their homework and expected her to take notes for them.
By the end of the first term, Ana dreaded going to school. She became anxious and depressed, could not sleep and went from being an A student to failing her examinations.
Ana’s parents met with the dean who promised to speak to the class. Instead of helping, this made the situation worse. The bullying intensified and the students retaliated against Ana whenever teachers or deans reprimanded them for their increasingly disruptive behaviour.
By the third term, Ana was terrified to attend school. Initially, her parents were told that they could not meet with the principal. By the time they were eventually allowed to do so, it was too late as Ana was already too scared to return to school.
Fearing that their daughter would be physically harmed, or that, in her despair she might harm herself, they had no choice but to keep her at home. She was effectively forced to stay away from school and did not complete her third-term examinations. With no resolution from the school, her parents eventually enrolled her in a private school. They could scarcely afford it but they believed it was the only way to protect their child.
When we discuss school indiscipline much of the attention is placed on the disruptive child. We ask what is causing the behaviour, whether the child needs counselling and what might happen if that child is suspended or sent home. These are necessary questions. Yet, somewhere in that discussion, children like Ana disappear.
What happens to the child who goes to school ready to learn but spends each day afraid?
Who protects the child whose lunch is taken, whose schoolwork is stolen and whose academic performance deteriorates under the pressure of bullying and other students’ disruptive behaviour? Why should that child be the one forced to leave the school?
This week, Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar called for a zero-tolerance approach to students who are disrespectful, violent or persistently disruptive. Her language may have been blunt, but she drew attention to students like Ana, who are being bullied, harassed and intimidated. Also, to teachers who are expected to teach in classrooms where disruption, threats and violence have become normalised over the past years. If we are honest, we will see that this part of the Prime Minister’s recent statement should not be dismissed. I mean, how can a school fulfil its purpose when children are afraid to attend, when teachers are constantly managing conflict instead of teaching or when children like Ana are expected to endure bullying so that those causing harm can remain in the classroom?
I think the discussion about children’s rights has become strangely one-sided. We quite rightly ask whether a child who is violent or persistently disruptive may be dealing with problems at home, learning challenges, neglect, amongst other issues. We consider that child’s right to education, counselling and support. However, we do not always ask the same questions about the child who is being harmed; certainly not with the same urgency.
Children like Ana are often at a disadvantage because they are quiet and compliant. The child who fights, threatens or disrupts the class commands everyone’s attention while the child being harmed may suffer quietly. The good student may be too frightened to report what is happening, especially if previous complaints have resulted in retaliation. Because that student continues attending classes, completing work and obeying the rules, adults may assume that everything is fine.
In Ana’s case, instead of being protected, she was expected to avoid certain students, change where she sat, surrender her lunch and simply learn to cope. The burden was shifted to the victim. The bullies stayed while Ana missed her examinations and eventually had to leave the school. Her parents now face the additional cost of private education because the system failed to protect her. What happens to children whose parents cannot afford an escape? In effect, the child who has done nothing wrong is made to pay for someone else’s bad behaviour.
The right of one child to remain in a classroom cannot be allowed to override another child’s right to feel safe there. Understanding and addressing the source of harmful behaviour does not require us to excuse it, nor should it mean that other children are forced to endure it. Ana has a right to education but she also had a right to receive that education without fear. When the child who wants to learn is the one forced out of school, our education system has protected the wrong child.
