Rhinoceros: Ryon's story 19
Friday
This is what the Independent wrote, after it had all kicked off.
The Independent Thursday 2nd April
COMMENT
The curse of YouTube strikes disgraced headteacher
The social media world and its associated easy access to technology has infiltrated its way into all walks of life, and schools are no exception. We’ve recently had the undercover filming by the supply teacher of a violence-ridden ‘bog standard’ comprehensive in the Midlands. Then there was the gang warfare arranged by phone in various Nottingham schools last week, all lovingly recorded, edited and posted online for the discerning world to view. And now we have the scandal at Greenlands School.
Many would argue that this is where the new democracy lies – not in coalition politics, or voting systems, or in the so-called ‘big society’ – but in people using technology for their own ends, to expose fraud, corruption, hypocrisy, and illegal activities. Some would argue that this merely avoids any previously carefully thought through moral issues and goes instead for polarised self-aggrandisement; but let’s stick to the specifics of Greenlands School for now.
Would we have known about the practices on the Forstall Oil Rig without the mobile phones in the hands of the workers? Or the geriatric ward at Freshfields NHS Trust? Or countless other examples where the moral imperative has been reasserted by, at least in many cases, courageous whistleblowers.
And now, it seems, the general public are carrying out the work of the journalese. All we have to do is wait for the films to be posted online and then write the story. Or indeed, let the story write itself. But do they constitute any kind of objective truth in themselves? Or even subjective truth, for that matter.
The anonymous teacher at Greenlands School was clearly fired up by a sense of doing the right thing, of exposing a wrong. But what about the footage that wasn’t filmed, the contextual information, the footage beyond the edit?
Don’t get me wrong. He or she is a good citizen, and should be lauded, given their due, a small, lower level gong, even. This teacher is representative of the fine citizenry in this shrinking and angxt-ridden country, and we are much in need of this moral fibre right now in these dark times. And the vicious practices of this – hopefully – rogue headteacher deserve all our approbation, as well as the full force of the law. So let's skate around some of the wider moral issues on this occasion, and call loud and clear for every abuser, miscreant, gravy-train sailor and Victorian workhouse throw-back to be turfed out of every school, hospital, care home and nursery without remorse.
It certainly prattled on a bit, like a lot of people who like the sound of themselves too much. Miscreant? Christ. Most teachers, coppers and social workers, for example. But it makes its point I suppose. The pont being, to give me a chance of ta slice of the action, when I've finished being a good boy in this sterile place. So I’m going to keep all the cuttings. Frank’s given me a folder to put them in. It’s not often you get to read the news and you’re right in the middle of it. Especially when you know more than the papers do. What it proves is that no-one knows the whole story. We read the papers and watch the news and we think we’ve understood, but we’re just getting an angle. Mind you, most papers haven't even attempted to cover any angles. Fucking clueless, most of them.
Frank’s collecting more of them for me, now he knows I’m reading them. Never read so much in my life. It was on the telly as well. We sat down in his office and watched the news on the computer. I tried not to look that interested, but I couldn’t help laughing at how stupid it was. Most of the reporting was pure shit. They went on about a whistleblower exposing the evil headteacher. They said that the teacher put the films online as a last resort for the sake of the pupils without a voice. Like some kind of knight in armour. As if. And now they want to find the people’s hero. Still, there could be a wad of cash in it. Except the Mitchelsons’ll want a fucking big cut, somehow.
Rehab was boring today. All Lauren wanted to talk about was the news, but I decided to keep quiet, the less said the better, and I pretended I wasn’t interested at all. She kept asking leading questions like, ‘So what was Greenlands like?’ and, ‘Did the head ever restrain you, Ryon?’ in her cute and innocent voice, and I just shrugged and looked out the window. Not that there was anything to see, just another brick wall. Eventually she gave up and sat scribbling in her pad for the rest of the session. She was wearing ear-rings with a fish on the end that had a gem for its eye.
