Principals and Other Schoolyard Bullies

by Nick Fonda

  And as we were slowly hobbling down the stairs, with me half supporting Janet who could hardly move, the directeur passed us on the stairs. He went by us as if we weren’t there. Ignored us totally. I can’t tell you how small that made me feel, how that hurt. Here was this man—and big muscles and all, I don’t think he’s a man; he’s the very opposite of what a man should be—so here’s this individual who, as the one in charge of the well-being of the couple of hundred students in that building, should be the first to pause at least long enough to say, hello Janet, I hope you’ll be better tomorrow. And if he wasn’t so busy doing nothing, he might even have asked what was wrong and seen if he could help. And did he not see I was the same person who had been in his office not even an hour earlier expressing concern about my child who now seemed to be half crippled? And he climbed right by!

  It was awful. I know it sounds ridiculous now that I talk about it. So what if he walked by without saying hello? How many people walk by me without saying hello? I know it sounds silly, but in that instant, the way he pretended we didn’t exist hurt me as much as if he’d picked me up and thrown me down the stairs….

  …Yes, that’s true. That’s very true. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Let me tell you this one little story. This was a couple of years ago. It was one of the kids’ birthday parties. We’ve always made the birthdays a shared celebration, both Janet and Tommy invite friends over. Anyway, one of Tommy’s little friends, a very active little boy by the name of Steven Robert—and he’s francophone, even if his name is Steven—he was playing near my flower beds—where he knew he wasn’t supposed to be—and he took a terrible tumble. He was up by the rock garden and somehow he fell. I saw it happen. I swear I thought we’d be bringing him to the Emergency with broken bones. You wouldn’t believe the tumble he took. But he bounced right up and looked puzzled for a second but went right on as if nothing had happened.

  Well, that same little boy, ten minutes later was in tears because he wanted a different coloured party hat and his sister—his little sister—wouldn’t trade with him. No, what you asked earlier, if there was anything physical? From what I’ve seen, I’d say kids handle and recover from physical trauma so much more easily than emotional or psychological attacks…

  …Oh! Je prends cette dernière petite bouchée. C’était très bon, merci. Les légumes étaient cuits à la perfection. Très bon…

  …Well, I’ve already eaten more than I normally do at lunch, but if you’re having some I’ll join you…

  …Non, je vais essayer la crème caramel. Oui, merci. Oh, oui, pourquoi pas, je prends un café aussi. Merci.

  …There was something I read recently, or that I heard somewhere, and it really struck me. It was about human needs, a list of what we need to survive. It was a short list, four or five things, and I can’t remember now exactly, but we need food and we need shelter but we also need the emotional support of others… And I think that’s why it hurt so much when he marched right by us on that staircase. He was announcing in no uncertain terms that we would be getting no emotional support from him…

  A principal makes such a difference to a school…

  …Merci! Ça a l’air délicieux! Yours looks good too.

  …Yes, principals and the difference they make. A good principal really does make a difference. It’s the principal who sets the tone, who gives the school its essential culture. Really. It was night and day for Janet…

  …No, no, the following September…

  …I sent her to my Mom’s place. I certainly wasn’t sending her back to that school. She went to her granny’s, and she was perfectly fine. There was not a thing wrong with her. Her shoulders didn’t hurt and her neck didn’t hurt and she was a perfectly happy and contented little girl. She got a four-month summer holiday, most of it at her granny’s.

  In September, she started at the English school and I think she was a little apprehensive. I certainly was. But you know, the first day, I drove her and we stayed in the car for a minute and watched some of the kids getting off the buses and when she was ready we got out of the car and started walking to the part of the yard where the kids line up and there, all of a sudden, was Lee Fitzpatrick, the principal, and she greeted Janet and told her she hoped she’d like her new school and to go and see her any time she wanted to about anything at all. And she looked at Janet as she spoke to her and I can’t say enough good about her. She’s wonderful for that school and I just pray they won’t shuffle her off somewhere else before Tommy finishes…

  …Merci! C’était vraiment très bon… Non, merci, une tasse c’est assez… Non, rien d’autre pour moi…

  …I don’t know if you’ve looked at your watch but it’s almost two…

  …No, I’m ok. I’ll pick up the kids, since I’m in town, but they don’t finish till 3:15. I’ve got lots of time. It’s more for you…

  …It was great to see you too. And thanks for lunch. You didn’t have to…

  …No, absolutely not. Everything I told you, I’d be happy to repeat in a court of law…

  …It is awful. And I’m serious when I say that it leaves scars. And it’s not just kids it happens to. You know, there’s someone you really should meet. The next time you come down, if all this stuff is still interesting to you, I’ll bring you to meet Marcel St-Amand. He’s a neighbour of ours, over on the Fourth Rang. A very nice man, probably close to sixty now. He was a teacher—and if you talk to him for two minutes, you’ll see right away that he must have been a very good teacher. He suffered a burnout and took an early retirement. This was several years ago. Now he does biodynamic gardening—and you should see his place. But the reason you should speak to him is because you’d find his stories very interesting, or I should say, very disturbing. Now here’s the kicker: what he went through still affects him to the point that he’s seeing a therapist…

  …I can do that. I’ll talk to him and I’ll put you in touch. I’m sure he’d be glad to talk to you. He’s very articulate and if you have any gardening questions, he’s a walking Wikipedia…

  …No, that won’t be a problem. He speaks English quite well. And you must still have some French, even if it’s rusty…

  …I will. Yes. And you never know, we might just surprise you one day and show up on your doorstep, four of us plus the dog…

  …We’ve actually been talking about it. Janet’s in high school next year. God, and isn’t that another worry! But we’ve been talking about taking some time to travel before the kids are all grown…

  …I know you’ve got to be going…

  …Let me at least get the tip.

  Acknowledgements

  Principals and Other Schoolyard Bullies is a work of fiction and the stories in the book are very much a creation of my own imagination. Still, my imagination was at times inspired by random comments, by brief anecdotes but also by very serious events which, sadly, were all too real. I am grateful to a number of people who, while they still carry the emotional scars of their experiences, were nevertheless willing to share their stories with me and consented to have them fictionalized. I am equally grateful to friends and family who read my text and brought to it many more corrections and improvements than I would feel comfortable to divulge.

  I first wish to thank Robin Philpot for once again undertaking all the risks involved in publishing a book during these demanding economic times. I must also thank Denis Palmer, whose deft skill with pen and ink I can only envy. Others to whom I am indebted include: Muriel Allen, Francine Beaubien, Ron Booth, Barry Evans, Karine Fonda, David Fonda, Royce Griffith, Sharon and Ralph McCully, Julie Miller, Eric St-Louis, Ronald Tardif, and Zoe Whittall.

  NICK FONDA, Richmond, Quebec, August, 2011

  Available or forthcoming from Baraka Books

  www.barakabooks.com

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