“Every member of staff did their job”

Areas surrounding Sydney have been affected in recent days by destructive bushfires.  While there is something of a reprieve at present, the danger has not yet passed, and hotter weather predicted for coming days will potentially exacerbate the already fragile situation.

Two schools in our system, one primary and one secondary, were the subject of emergency action on Thursday.  St Thomas Aquinas Primary was evacuated, while St Columba’s High School was locked down pending later evacuation.  All students of both schools were safely evacuated and returned to their parents during of the course of the afternoon and evening.

While news of the emergency made its way through our system of schools yesterday, this story appeared in the Sydney Morning Herald today:

Teacher hid loss during exodus

What this story reminds us is that working in a school often requires so much more than trying to ensure the highest possible learning outcomes for every student; something that is a big enough challenge in itself.  It often involves many other things that are necessary for the wellbeing of students, staff and families, including first aid, meals, counselling, social skills and, sometimes (fortunately not very often), getting children out of harm’s way and being surrogate parents until they can be reunited with their parents and guardians.

Being a teacher can be costly.  Not necessarily a financial cost (but perhaps so if you want to start comparing professional salaries), but certainly a social and emotional one.  Teaching is demanding, not only of your skills and knowledge, but of your time, your energy and your complete and total commitment to the cause.

So why do they do such a demanding job?  The answer for Serge was simple: it’s their job.  Some people might not fully comprehend what that means and implies, but teachers do.  And from what the story suggests, so too now (if they didn’t already before) do the parents of the St Thomas Aquinas school community.  They saw it modelled for them, in a selfless, Christ-like manner on Thursday.

To the teachers and school staff who have had to respond to this disaster, you have done us proud.  Your commitment to the safety and wellbeing of your students, and our appreciation for that, cannot be expressed strongly enough.  We are sorry for the losses you and your school communities have faced, and may still have to continue to face.  Our thoughts and our prayers are with you all.

Live in the moment

While watching the great race that is the Bathurst 1000, I saw for the first time this advertisement for a mobile phone:

Anyone who is, or has, worked in a primary school in recent years has more than likely seen the development of this phenomenon (albeit not quite so exaggerated), especially when there are Kindergarten students involved. There’s a almost desperate urge to try and capture every ‘Kodak moment’ (showing my age, I know) of a child’s life (says me who took over 3000 pictures whilst in Europe earlier this year). The ever-increasing ubiquity of portable technologies, with ever-increasing data storage capabilities, make such moment capture not just possible, but even expected.

Concerts nowadays are another context in which we see this phenomenon developing. There are both performers and audience members who aren’t really concerned about it, while others question how you can be capturing the moment without compromising your ability to experience the moment.

Back to the school environment (particularly the Catholic school environment), and as a religious educator, I fear about the impact of this phenomenon on our experience and participation in the liturgy. I’ve already heard about and seen situations in liturgical celebrations in schools where capturing a child’s ‘ministerial moment’ has proven to be a distraction, both for those using the cameras and phones, and for everyone else who has gathered to pray.

The Second Vatican Council very firmly declared that participation in the liturgy is not only the source and summit of Christian life, but also (particularly in terms of liturgical reform) “the goal to be achieved above all else” (Sacrosanctum Concilium, 10, 14). At the time of the council, a major priority amongst those concerned with liturgical reform was changing the prevailing mindset that it was the priest that was the almost exclusive human participant in the liturgy, reducing the assembly to the role of pious spectator.  We still face the challenge of spectating during the liturgy, perhaps not so much from pews while praying rosaries, but certainly more through the screens of mobile phones and tablets than in the 1960’s.  Fortunately it doesn’t happen often.  It does warrant consideration though, given that it can happen in the school context, where the liturgy has a crucial formational aspect to it.

How do we help people realise that there is so much more to gain if we resist the urge to ‘capture’ and instead try to engage in the experience?