Cast your mind back to 2001, to one of the most heartbreaking events of recent times – the attacks of September 11. Where were you when you heard the news? How did it affect you?
I was in New York that day; the impact on me was very real.
Just four days earlier, my five-year-old daughter and I had moved from Melbourne to New York. I was living my dream – doing the two things I loved best: being a mum and inspiring school leaders to raise the bar of the teaching profession.
On the morning of September 11, I had commenced work – consulting with teachers in a large Brooklyn public school. As I walked past the office, I heard an administrator yell: “Oh my God, a plane has hit the Pentagon”.
Within minutes I was thrust into taking a lead, with the principal, operating with calm and order, but with no details other than that the school was in lockdown.
I thought immediately of my own daughter, in school, several suburbs away. I had no way of reaching her. Was a leader watching over her, just as I was helping to care for 900 children and dozens of staff? Did she know that I was desperate to be with her? Was she as scared as I was?
The day was a surreal blur. As the morning’s events continued to unfold, we responded to departmental instructions, consoled staff who had family and friends working in downtown Manhattan, and co-ordinated security pick-ups for panicked parents desperate to have their children close. Amidst all the activity, we maintained a positive and professional front – encouraging teachers to continue as best they could, and distracting the children until we knew more.
I finally reached my daughter at 5pm. She was the last remaining child at her school. Both shocked and elated to see me, she said, “I thought you were gone and I would have to find a new mummy”. It rocked my identity to the core.
Over the years I have listened to hundreds of people share their reality of that fateful day.
I’ve comforted a stranger on a subway, after hearing her desperation over the loss of her husband, as she struggled to breathe while trying to make sense of her new reality.
I’ve heard stories from those who woke up the morning after, thousands of miles away, believing they were experts on the subject.
I’ve listened to friends too frightened to fly, to conspiracy theories, to anger, to heartache and hope.
My story, my daughter’s story, and every other story I’ve heard are real. September 11 is a unique reality for each individual who experienced it – in whatever way.
The real world is in the here and now. It’s in classrooms, living rooms, workplaces, dole queues and on the streets. The real world is the one in which each of us is living, regardless of where we might be.
There is no such thing as preparing people for the real world, or even for the 21st century. There is, however, much to be said for preparing them for the many things they might encounter while going about life, wherever and whenever they live it, and for whatever purpose they have as they do.
When schools talk about preparing students for the real world or the 21st century, are they admitting that life inside school is neither real nor valid?
I don’t believe that.
I do believe, however, that school is simply one part of reality for each ‘someone’ – whoever and whenever that might be.
Copyright © 2018 Cheryl Lacey All rights reserved.
Parent, educationist and advocate of agitating change in Australian education. By raising the bar we can face any global challenges facing Australia and Australians.
Contact me at cheryl@cheryllacey.com to learn how we can work together.
