Tirebiter Carries On, by George Leroy Tirebiter XII

We have students in crisis at our school. At least that was the subject line on my e-mail, and I see no reason to doubt it. A colleague has witnessed panic attacks from a few students, and another student had him or herself “checked in” for a few days. Apparently all these cases are beyond what might be considered the usual “academic” crises—they seem to be all somehow triggered by, well, The World in Which We Live.

It all makes me wonder, which I’m pretty much doing as I write. I have to admit, as I close my sixth year at this place, I haven’t had a student have a panic attack in front of me. Some crying here and there, maybe one near breakdown, but no, not a panic attack, I don’t think. It could be because students instinctively realize I’m not going to be much help in a panic attack—I would just join in and have one, too, most likely.  Or it could be the book I always carry around with me that has the words “Don’t Panic” written reassuringly on the back.

I also wonder if we’re right, or at least not wrong, to panic. We’ve got a bad president who also
seems to be a bad man acting badly. When I was an overage grad student, one of the professors had a sign on the door that read, “Do you feel a draft?” I think that was one of the things we were panicking about then, or at least we were really disturbed by it. And now? Well, as kids who lived in the shadow of the Peloponnesian War, the Thirty Years War, the Great War, the Second World War, the Cold War (let’s all be like Bert the Turtle and duck and cover, kids!), and right now have discovered and are discovering, the world’s a scary-ass place. And your worst fears might become reality—for some, I guess that has already happened. I don’t think it’s all about snowflakes being snowflakes—not entirely, at least.

I’m not a professional in terms of mental health. Our job is to refer the students to people who are, and who are available on campus. Beyond that? Well, when one of your Special Needs Adopted Kids insists on doing homework in your lap and peeing on your pants, and another Special Needs Adopted Kid decides to hurl a heavy toy fire truck at your face from two inches away (while the third Special Needs Adopted Kid just doesn’t like you very much), you get, perhaps, a different perspective on the World and Life as We Know It. But I think my best (only) answer comes from The Lego Batman Movie—I took the 4-year-old (the fire-truck-thrower) the other day. In it, Richard Grayson, who will become Robin, meets Bruce Wayne (Batman, of course) at a benefit and gushes excitedly, “Hi Mr. Wayne, I’m your biggest fan! My name is Richard Grayson, but most of the kids at the orphanage call me Dick!” Bruce Wayne acknowledges, “Yeah, kids can be cruel.”

And I laughed. For five, maybe six seconds. It felt good.

So that’s what I’d offer to our students in crisis, and perhaps, to you folks as well. As the hero says in “Sullivan’s Travels”:  "There's a lot to be said for making people laugh. Did you know that's all some people have? It isn't much, but it's better than nothing in this cockeyed caravan.”

Yup. Better than nothing.

Tirebiter out.

P.S. Read “The Complete Yaro”—yeah, the whole darn thing. I liked the way he stuck up for the adjunct, and I like the way he really took good teaching, and his students, seriously. That is also better than nothing.