Tuesday September 1st was my worst day in Samoa, was one of the worst day of my life, and will hopefully not be topped. As a teacher I knew I would have to deal with tough stuff.... but this....I never thought I would have to see up close and personal.
It was the first class of the day (but my 4th period since we are on block schedule), and they were being angels! The day before was tough, and I dealt with the lows of Test Day #1, so I was greatly relieved when my students came in ready to work and take their quiz. The class was working silently (a rare thing), and after walking around monitoring them for a while, I decided I could finally sit down at my desk and relax for 2 minutes.....So Wrong. I was looking down when all of a sudden I heard yelling. I look up and see a fist being slammed into one of my student’s face (I’ll just call him Johnny). At first I thought it was 2 of my students fighting but quickly realized it was no one I knew. Two kids came through the back door of my classroom and jumped my student, Johnny. They held him in a desk and just kept punching him. He finally fell out of his desk and tried to stand up, but the 2 boys picked up a metal flooding chair and began beating him with it. Johnny got back up and started stumbling to the front of the class room when they picked up and entire desk (the kind where the desk and chair are connected), and began hitting him with it. When they were done beating him withe the desk, they threw it at him, and, of course, knocked him back down to the ground. By this time, I had cleared all my other students out of the room (since fists, chairs, and desks were flying), and aside from 2 of my boys who wanted a front row seat to the action I was the only one left in the chaos. But what could I do?...me 5’1”... the main attacker...easily over 6’ - 250 lbs...Me physically getting them to stop the attack was not an option. So Johnny still manages to stumble back up after being knocked to the ground by a flying desk, and the boys manage to get him back into another desk so they can easily keep beating and punching his face and body. This lasted for several full minutes before anyone else came in. I had sent a girl to run for help, and eventually 2 male teachers rushed in. They saw the last of the punches and witnessed the threats made before the 2 attackers ran out of the room. Another teacher tried to help me calm Johnny down, but he was still in survival mode. With blood everywhere he stumbled around the room and refused to sit or stop. Finally we managed to calm him down enough to help him to the office. He was still conscious, but very out of it. He could barely walk, and his face and shirt were covered in blood. I had never seen something so violent in my life and it took everything I had in me to remain solid through the fight. But with Johnny being helped, I turned to one of the other teachers, asked them to watch my class, headed towards the office, and immediately burst into tears. I went to the bathroom and tried to calm myself down, but it took a while to stop sniffling. I was still noticeably shaken up and sniffling, as we waited in the office for the ambulance and police to arrive. My principal let me into his office, and I just began to cry again. I felt so terrible and watching my own student from 3 feet away get beaten to a bloody mess was more than I could handle. I had to explain the whole thing to the police and write down my statement. It turns out that the main attacker was older and had already graduated high school. The other attacker, however, was still a student. They had canvased the school for 30 minutes looking for Johnny. Since both sides of my class room are windows, he was eventually spotted. The attacker still in school even had the nerve to knock on my door to get me to open it and let him get a clear view of Johnny 5 minutes before they bursted back in. After explaining the fight, I had to take the officers back to my room to show them the scene. Blood was sill everywhere and a trail followed the path of the attack.
A janitor came in to start mopping the floor, but stopped after only mopping up a tiny bit. In an effort to keep myself together, I called my mom to have her tell me about something happy. While on the phone, I realized that he barely cleaning up the floor, and ended the conversation with my mom by announcing “Crap! I have to go and get someone to finish mopping all the blood of my floor!” ....Probably not the best way to leave Mom and everyone else at ease, but looking back it was a kind of comical moment in all the emotional craziness.
What’s more awful is that each day I find a new spot of dried blood (not to gross anyone out) that has yet to be noticed. Since the attack went all around the classroom it was hard to get every bit up. Someone in my 6th period noticed some still on his desk. He raised his hand and said “Ms..... I think there is still some blood on my desk...” My response? “Ya? I just noticed some under your feet too. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice....” Oh geez. Wednesday morning I was grading their tests only to find blood splatter on those. And then on Thursday I went to write on the edge of my chalk board only to notice a nice large splatter still left on the wall and board.....
Needless to say, we found several reminders of the attack, and I was shaken up each time. My poor 4th period is still paranoid. Each time someone walks by we all tense up a little bit. With nothing else to do, a few of my boys partly make light of the situation. On Wednesday after a few boys walked by and gave us a bit of a scare, a boy sitting next to the back door held up a broom as protection, and the other two in that row held up their fists to exclaim, “Don’t worry Ms. Jessie! We got this!”
Unfortunately the students explained to me that fighting is a way of life here. Students fight to represent the power of their families, their villages, and their school. It’s how they earn power and respect. Fighting outside the classroom may not always be controllable, but the second it came onto campus and in my classroom, it crossed the line. The principal said that in 20 years he has not seen an on-campus attack so bad. I know there was nothing more I could have done, but it’s awful that my students, and my 4th period especially, can no longer see the classroom as a safe place. While many of the boys think that fighting is cool, the girls were extremely shaken up. One even asked me, “Ms. Jessie, is there somewhere else we can go? Some other classroom where we will be safe?” American Samoa does have many problems with poverty, abuse, alcoholism, and more. I had always thought of the classroom as the place where my students could temporarily escape those problems, but now that doesn’t ring true.
I absolutely hate that reality, and hate that violence is so prevalent. It raises a cultural contradiction that I don’t fully understand yet. On one hand the Samoans are such welcoming, friendly people. They are so family oriented and caring, yet on the other hand, the younger generations use fighting as a means of showing power. The problem, however, starts with the acceptance of corporal punishment. Kids are beat when they do something wrong. They learn early on that the consequence for disrespect and poor actions is hitting, so when they get older they use the same method. If they feel wronged or disrespected by another kid, they hit just as they have been taught. What’s worse is that their punishment is a good beating, so they are told not to fight and hit as they are being hit. It’s a never ending cycle.
The following is a newspaper article written by the boy’s father. If you can’t tell.... I’m the “tiny palagi teacher.”
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