School Yard Stories #001 - The Gum Wars

Right now. This very instant, in fact. There's a war raging in our schools. It is a war that was needed, but not wanted; expected, but not anticipated; welcomed, but not accepted. This war is faught on all fronts. No one is safe. The casualties are high, but they are counted with pride. The wounded treated like heroes. They fall, but are quickly replaced by their comrades who take up the call to arms enthusiastically. Both sides fight hard, brimming with determination, not willing to back down an inch, or give any quarter to their quarry. Weapons are carefully selected, crafted from years of research. Skills in their use, carefully honed through weeks of meticulous training. Any white flags were long ago stained, so there can be no surrender. Lines are drawn in the sand, and the opposition is dared to cross.

Welcome to the front line.

It's brutal.

It's bloody.

Welcome to...

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The Gum Wars

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Since the dawn of formalised education, there has been a global battle raging between teachers and students. It has been kept quiet all these years, and I'm probably breaching protocol letting you know this now, but it's time that we had our voices heard. You see, it's tiring. Each time one side thinks it's winning, the other rallies and in a surge; pushes back the wave. There's a constant ebb and flow, and each side strives for supremacy. It seems that this war is never going to end. I'm tired, and I'm not even on one side or the other - I'm quite neutral in all of this, but I am witness to it always. Often I have held my breath, thinking that the fighting may have finally ceased, but only to find that a reistance is holed up somewhere, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

A century ago, the fighting was conducted mainly in pockets around the world. They tussled in virtual solitude, not knowing that there were others facing a similar plight thousands of kilometres away. It was better like this - the isolation resulted in far less attacks. Today though, with the use of media, social and otherwise, propaganda has increased exponentially, and the efforts of all involved has increased to reflect the growth in antagonism. There are now coordinated ambushes in classrooms on a global scale. Chewing-related assaults are up a whopping fifty percent, and the use of guerilla warfare has seen a surge in recent times, especially in the last five years, as these rag-tag groups who fight against the more traditional means are mobilised through mobile interfaces such as WhatsApp and Snapchat.

There has also been a shift in the frontline. What once had clear markings, such as the rows of tables where the teacher was able to see the clear divide between themselves and the students is now finding itself blurred as traditional means of fighting is replaced with terrible tactics. Couches, beanbags, grouped tables, standing-height desks, and other modern implements of war have been introduced into the classroom. It happened so slowly, that no one really saw it until it was too late, and by the time it was recognised, teachers were already on the backfoot. They found themselves fighting on more than one front, and often in unfamiliar territory. The war had spilled onto the streets. No one was exempt any more, and fear began to grip even the most hardened personnel. Even SSO's found themselves in the firing line - the 'Swiss-like' helpers of the classrooms have found themselves under siege as if they too are now counted among the enemy.

Causalites have mounted continuously since the fighting began, and it is just by sheer grace, that there has not yet been one recorded death as a result of the attrocities that we hear and see on a nearly daily basis. Sick bays, and nurse's stations can be seen, strewn with ulcers and other internal bite related injuries. Sometimes, a lip might get in the way of the grinding assult, but usually, the worst of the damage is kept inside the mouth. Warnings are simply not been heeded, and as a result, students are finding their way into triage, only to hear that it could be minutes, even hours, before thay can rejoin their platoon in the thick of it. Wails of despair can be heard, eerily wafting out into the desolate corridors. Often, in times of truce, during recess and lunch, teachers may be seen, wearily plucking chunks of green goop from hair, commenting as they shift aching bones in non-supportive chairs of the worst offenders of the day.

Those who aren't injured are taken prisoner. Well planned concentration camps have been designed to keep offenders in at lunch, and even in some rare instances, after school. Really bad cases might see themselves deferred to a weekend, but this seems, generally, to be a thing of the past. Each camp can house up to thirty prisoners, and they are placed in specially designed rooms, created, just for the purpose of punishment. The walls of these rooms are often devoid of the creativity and care that other classrooms usually boast. They are rarely, if ever, seen by the outside world. Punishment can be varied, but is usually mild thanks to government inteference. The camp commandants dole out the punishment with morbid fascination. Prisioners are often forced to write to their loved ones, explaining how they found their way into the camp and declaring allegiance to the new regime - the Gum Free regime. The continual offenders will often find themselves on cleanup duty, peeling the shrapnel of their brothers-and-sisters-in-arms off the bottom of desks. This is a punishment reserved for the undesirables. There are rumours, as in any war, of prisoner brutality. One such incident records, but without evidence, mind you, of a lieutenant who kept chewed missiles in a jar, and when a student was caught in a covert operation of chewing and concealing, they were forced to remove their weapon of choice, place it in the jar, and take up the weapon of one of thier comrades to, once again, resume their chewing. A horrible, yet one might argue, necessary punishment, if indeed true.

This war has taken its toll on millions, maybe even billions, over the ages. But it's not just people who have suffered. You can only imagine the infrastructure that has been affected. You've already had a glimpse into the atrocities committed against desks. To look under one, is sometimes, to look the devil in the face. Riddled with the little globules of gum, so quickly and recklessly squelched under the board, out of sight. The cross bars are particularly sought after, and these can often be seen, peppered with the white, green, and pink remnants of war. Carpets are another innocent casulty of this ongoing battle. The number of times, sticky particles have been found mashed into the pile of a classroom shag, gradually turning black over the course of time, looking and smelling gangrenous, a shame of any school that is trying to conduct parent tours for prospective enrolments. There are countless other battlements that have found themselves overrun with these little weapons, and it is only with sadness, and a sense of fondness, that we can look back and value the contribution these structures made.

The psychological damage that this ongoing problem has caused can be seen in the scarring creases across teacher's foreheads, and in the corners of student's mouths as they grimance mischievously. Both sides have, and are suffering. Students feeling disillusioned. Teachers feeling crushed - the weight of responsibility burdening them. The stories that have surfaced of valiant efforts to curb the ongoing surge of gum are stirring to say the least. Students, who will swear, black and blue, to the bitter end that the gum in their mouth isn't actually theirs. Teachers who tirelessly watch, keeping vigil minute after minute, watching for the slightest twitch of a mouth, indicating that there may be an imminent revolt against the regime. Both sides have their accounts, and both sides tell them to new recruits with passion and zeal hoping and praying that they will spur them on to perform even greater feats than their preivous chums.

The War on Gum will rage well into the future, and while there is much we can learn from it, there is little we can do to stop it. What is evident in all of this, is that regardless of how long this war rages, there will be no true winners. Only losers. Students and teachers alike, who, despite their differences, have looked Wrigley's in the eye and suffered similar consequences as a result. The pain and suffering that has been marketed to these people is more than any one soul should shoulder. Research shows that as they age, the problem will dissipate - usually, the draw of the gum lessens over time. But while only a handful will ever truly be healed, most will regain partial control of their jaws once again.

As the sun sets in the Western sky, signalling the end of another day of battle, the troops wearily retreat to their battlements to recuperate. Some linger, staring blankly over the battlefield, wondering of what they might have done differently. Wondering if there is ever anything that can be done differently. These are a people set apart. A people who walk gallantly into the jaws (yes, pun!!) of death daily. We can only really salute them and say thank you. We never really know the sacrifices they have made until it is too late. Until they are out of our lives.

To the brave soldiers of this ongoing war, we pause, and we pay homage.

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