Dear School, it’s time we had a chat...

We’re sitting at a table together. My gaze is stuck on the mug that my hands are hugging. It’s obvious that I’m not okay, that something has happened.
We’re close, you and I, so it’s not unusual for tough and deep conversations to occur.
“Kate, what’s wrong?” you ask gently.
I don’t take my eyes off the coffee, which is getting colder by the second, as I confide in you. “A male colleague pushed me up against the wall today. While he had me pinned, he told me he was going to kill me with a knife one day.”
I look up at you, waiting to hear your response. Nothing would ever prepare me for what falls away from your lips.
“Kate, were you in the way? Maybe you were being too bossy? You can get like that sometimes. You know that he has a lower IQ than other males his age, so it’s not as though it was premeditated. He can’t control his reactions.”
I’m shocked. The support and advice I was seeking from you, my safe person, has not been extended to me.
“This isn’t the first time it’s happened.” I’m trying to convince you that I’m not safe. “Once, he kicked me in the vagina. He has pushed me, punched me and been verbally violent on multiple occasions.”
You look at me in a way that shows me that you’re not hearing me at all. “You know he plays really violent video games at home? He obviously doesn’t have the capacity to differentiate between the two. Just move desks, avoid him where possible and have lunch away from him.”
“What? I think he should be fired!”
“Kate he can’t be fired. That’s just not the way it works.”
“I’ll have to quit and change my workplace then. I’ve approached senior staff time and time again and nothing has come of it.”
Yet again, your response baffles me.
“This kind of stuff happens everywhere. It’s a great opportunity to build resilience.”

Obviously, the above interaction has never taken place, not between you and me. I would be disgusted if it ever did. In fact, if your first response weren’t dragging me to the police station to report this ongoing violent behaviour, I would be ending our relationship.

I was in an emotionally abusive relationship once; it wasn’t a long relationship thankfully. Based on the way he stalked and treated me, I was told by friends countless times to notify the police and apply for a restraining order. I did just that and was granted a 2-year AVO against the individual. He did not punch me, push me, kick me in the vagina or tell me he was going to kill me. Based on what he had done, however, the police and a judge deemed that my daughter and I needed protection from this individual.

So, you can understand why it would shock, disgust and enrage me to hear you make the above excuses for the young man who has continuously attacked not only my daughter but other young female students. You will notice I used the word “attacked”. You’ve called it bullying and continue to do so. I call it abuse, violence, attacking.
If this was to happen to a grown female, we would not sugar coat it with the word bullying. We would call it out for what it is.

You can understand why I have called meetings, made phone calls, emailed the department and now this. Now, I am sending this open--incredibly open--letter to you.

I don’t think I should have to do this; surely the safety of your students should be your number one priority.
You told me that this student doesn’t focus on particular students, yet it seems like we’ve been in these meetings many times. What I’m saying in this letter shouldn’t come as a shock to you, I’ve said it to you before. This has been an ongoing issue since 2019, when he kicked my daughter in the vagina. I should have realised after the second or third incident that you don’t have the ability, as a school, to put the necessary measures in place to protect your students. There were always new strategies being put in place, each one affecting only my daughter and her peers. She would have to play in areas dictated to her, even if she did not want to. She has sat in restorative mediation meetings with the student and talked about her fears, all whilst you’ve told me that things are changing; he’s making progress, you’re making progress. Yet, my daughter has been begging to stay home, asking me questions I find extremely difficult to answer.

“Mum, what if he hurts me again?”

And she is right to ask these questions. What if he does hurt her again? Or, more likely, what should she do when he does hurt her? Past events show that, no matter the protective measure you put in place, he will attack her. If we look at past events, it becomes clear that you are struggling to protect your students.
You see, everything described in the opening of this letter has happened to my daughter at the hands of this young man. The responses given are the responses you have given me when I’ve tried to protect her.

You’ve told me that he watches violent video games.
You’ve told me that sometimes my daughter is too bossy and can get in the way.
You’ve told me that he has a low IQ. That he has a rough home life. That he isn’t being malicious, he just can’t control his body and his emotions.
And when I’ve told you that I feel the need to change schools, you’ve had the audacity to tell me that ‘bullying’ happens everywhere and that my daughter needs to develop resilience.

I have compassion for this student, what he is going through and the challenges he faces. My heart breaks for him; what has he seen and witnesses for this to be normal? Just as I want my daughter to be safe and protected, I want the same for him. No child should believe this behaviour is normal to give or to receive.
I don’t blame him for his behaviour. I do blame you though, school, for normalising it and making it acceptable.
When this student held my daughter against a wall and told her he was going to kill her with a knife, I told you I wanted him expelled from the school. You informed me that it was frowned upon to expel or even suspend students who are below grade 3. I just need to ask you this question… Is it more important for you to maintain your reputation than to keep your students safe?

I understand that there are systems in place, I understand there are things going on behind the scenes that I know nothing about. And I understand you can’t have all teachers in all places to stop incidences from happening, but, at what point did anything become more important than keeping children safe at school? It seems to me that you don’t have the capacity to protect your students. In the 4 years my daughter has been at your school, I have seen numerous families leave, contacting the department about the violence that their children were subjected to while under your protection.

When I came into the office to discuss the threat my daughter received, you told me the student would be out of the class for the rest of the week. This was only changed to ‘the rest of the year’ when I told you that if he was in class, my daughter wouldn’t be. You then rewarded this student by allowing him to participate in the school’s end of year beach day.
He threatened to kill a student, yet there were no real repercussions for his actions.

Did you know that, on average, one woman every week is killed in Australia due to domestic violence?1
One woman per week! So where does this violence start? Sometimes it starts in the perpetrator’s past, triggered by their childhood or their past experiences or maybe their behaviour isn’t linked to their past… making me wonder, how does this become okay?
School, you essentially blamed my daughter for his actions; you told me that she was in the way or she was being too bossy. Do you know what this is called? It’s called victim blaming. I’m sure you understand the concept but, for the sake of clarity, this is when the victim of a wrongful act is held entirely or partially at fault for the harm that befell them.

And then, when I advocated for my daughter, you encouraged me to find her a new school, in a bid to remove her and myself, making us out to be the problem.
The problem is not the victim and those advocating for the victim. The problem lays with the perpetrators.
The fault doesn’t lay with my daughter, nor with me. We are not the issue. The issue is the one causing pain to another and the normalisation of this behaviour.

When you didn’t blame her, you made excuses for him--his violent video games, his low IQ, his inability to self-regulate. You then went on to tell my daughter to move out of the way, you told her to stay away from him, not to talk to him. Not once did I hear you talk about how his behaviour had--and has--nothing to do with my daughter; even if she’s being annoying, it is never okay for anyone to lay their hands on her. Instead of teaching him about respect, kindness, the difference between right and wrong, and that actions have consequences, you rewarded him, allowing him to attend a beach day and other end-of-year activities.

Essentially, what you have taught my 8-year-old daughter is that her safety is not important and that her actions are the cause of males reactions. The responsibility is on her. What you’ve taught my 8-year-old daughter is that she should take up less space and move out of the way, so that males can have more space and just be themselves. What you’ve taught my 8-year-old daughter is that even a death threat isn’t a good enough reason to remove someone to keep her safe.

And what have you taught this 8-year-old male? You’ve taught him that, no matter what he says or does, his actions will never result in any real consequences; and when it does, the consequences won’t be too severe. You’ve taught him that you’ll make excuses for him and that he doesn’t need to self-regulate as his actions will be reasoned away. You’ve told him that he can treat females however he wants to and that their behaviours can be changed to suit his needs.

School, do you see that, by teaching these lessons to my 8 year-old daughter and her peers, you are creating a generation of women who will never speak up because they have learnt their voices aren’t heard and their lives aren’t worth protecting. You are creating a generation of men who will treat women as lesser than them and not expect any repercussions from their violent or abusive behaviour.

This letter isn’t just about protecting my daughter and other young girls and women in society. It’s also about protecting young men. School, you have failed both the male and the female children within your care; you have set them up for failure. I have a son, too, and I want him to learn what it means to be a feminist, to proudly support and empower women. Are you going to help me do that?

I want to move my daughter to another school, but due to your lack of care I no longer trust the public system. Is this how violent behaviour is dealt with at every Australian public school? If this is how one public school is run, why should I expect it to be different elsewhere. I would love to send her to a private school, but I don’t have the funds to be able to do so. Similarly, I can’t afford to home school her and believe in the many benefits of sending a child to school with others. And as a parent who is co-parenting, I am not the only party involved in this decision making. So where does that leave my daughter? It leaves her in the same school, feeling unsafe. It leaves her (and I) waiting for the next incident to happen.

I am trying to raise strong children; children who demand respect but also give respect. I want my daughter’s voice to be heard and her safety valued by the institutions she attends. I want my son to become a man of honour and integrity; one who values the lives of those around him. At home, I will teach them both to act with kindness and respect for every person. Surely, this is what they should be learning at school too? I would love to become allies in this.

Instead, you’re failing the children within your care, you’re failing the parents who trust you, and you’re failing the wider community. I place a higher value on learning respect, kindness, love and integrity than on traditional academics. If my children walk away from their schooling with all the knowledge in the world but they do not know how to treat people with respect, kindness and compassion, we have failed them and we have failed society. You and I both.

School,
I’m leaving this letter feeling baffled. I don’t know how to move forward with you. So, when the next incident occurs, when my daughter is physically harmed under your protection, I will be going straight to the police. I will be reporting the name of the student/s involved, what happened, and your response. I will also report you for your negligence, your inability to keep the children in your care safe. When the next incident occurs, I will be going to my local MP and seeking their advice. I will also go to the media. And again, I will approach the department of education. The voice of my daughter, the voice of our young girls, the voice of those attacked (both male and females) will not be silenced any longer. It will no longer fall on deaf ears, not on my watch. The safety of my daughter and her peers matters and if you can’t protect them, you certainly shouldn’t be in charge of their care and their education.

I wish we could work together and see eye-to-eye on this. I wish this were a joint effort to ensure these children’s safety. I wish this letter weren’t necessary.

School, it’s not too late.
It’s not to late to teach young girls that their actions, they’re words, they’re clothing, or their being is a reason for any man to cause harm.
And it’s not too late to tell young men they are in control of their own actions, and when they’re actions hurt another, there are consequences.

School... you know where to find me.
Kate.

1Australian Institute of Health and Welfare (2018) Family, domestic and sexual violence in Australia, 2018