Here in this space I believe that I have used the metaphor of comparing school vandalism to kicking a blind dog. What sort of master criminal does it take to show up and wreak havoc on an empty, unguarded building? That dog, if you follow the metaphor, won't hunt.
This was one of the thoughts that circled my mind as I worked diligently, along with a few of my colleagues, to sweep up the broken glass that had been scattered across half of our playground. The concentration of which was on the padded mat underneath our play structure. The other focus of my deliberations was just exactly how so much glass could be broken across such a wide area. Someone noticed a chunk of asphalt sitting on one of the platforms of the climbing area. Then another. A picture began to form: A group of some indeterminate number had picked our playground for a weekend beer festival, and once the beers were gone, the empties were set up on the play structure like targets. The loose chunks of asphalt were pulled from the decaying surface nearby, and an ersatz shooting gallery was made. None of the resulting shards were any bigger than my thumb. Most of them were much smaller.
And they were all laying there Monday morning, ready for the bare hands and knees of our children who would show up, ready to romp and tumble on the one place where romping and tumbling was encouraged.
The part that I could never fully ascertain was what sort of mind would carry out such a plot so void of caring. Once the treacherous mess had been made, it was left for someone else to manage. The potential of some connection between our students and the vandals loomed quite large. The probability that one or all of them being former students, or at least related to some of our current students was quite high. It is a neighborhood school, surrounded by the homes of the families who enroll there. What sort of anger or frustration could have led to this? What sort of numbness must be present to have such disregard for their surroundings?
I didn't have an answer. I had a job to do. Recess would be starting soon, and we needed a clean playground. All that broken glass needed to be cleaned up. I didn't have time for outrage.
It's what we do.
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