Last Saturday I watched the ultimate summer scare movie – Jaws. Released in the summer of 1975, anyone who has watched this movie knows how it changed your opinion of taking a casual swim on a hot summer day. Pitted against each other are the snappy Mayor Larry Vaughn, the diligent and afraid-of-water Sheriff Broday, Oceanographer and Shark Expert Hooper, and the old fisherman and curmudgeon Quint.  It is one of those movies that no matter how many times you have seen it, you get stuck in the wait-5-more-minutes scenario, until eventually the credits start running and you realize that you have actually watched the entire movie (for the 20th time).

One particular scene really hit a note with me during this viewing. It is the 4th of July scene when, against the recommendations of the Shark Expert Hooper and Sheriff Brody, the mayor refuses to shut the beaches. The scene builds as volunteer boaters agree to watch the waters for any sign of the killer shark, while Sheriff Brody keeps an eye on the shore, and the mayor wanders the beach wondering why no one is swimming. As Mayor Vaughn walks amongst those sitting on beach blankets and chairs, he comes across what appears to be a family friend. Tapping him on the shoulder, the friend, a fair-skinned  middle-aged man turns and calls to him, “Why hi, Larry.” Offereing no return greeting, the mayor simply wants to know, “Why aren’t you in the water?” After explaining why they are not swimming, due to a recent application of suntan lotion, the mayor bluntly states, “Nobody is going in – please – get in the water.”  The man, whose name we do not know, glances at his wife with a sort of what can we do type of look, and they both then turn to look at the water.  The viewer is then left to decide what thoughts are going through their minds. At that point, my thoughts are something like this, oh s….., I really don’t want to do this! I’m not sure who Mayor Larry is to this family, but they must owe him a tremendous debt, for they then rise from their sand chairs, take their three children by the hands, and walk into the water. Others follow and soon the water is filled with swimmers, those on floats and others simply cooling off. For those of us who know the movie, you know what happens. For those three of you who have not seen it, I won’t give it away. But, as we soon learn, they should have stayed out of the water.

This summer is an odd one. With the Covid virus still lurking in our lives, summer vacation plans have been canceled, pool clubs closed, and camps not running. Like the great white shark in Jaws, it hides beneath the surface and us, the beach dwellers, are  unsure of when or where it will strike. Unlike other viruses that fall off in the hot weather, this virus, like the shark in Jaws, does not follow normal patterns. While most sharks hunt in the ocean, this shark goes off into the bay. It is our great white: a silent, fast moving, unpredictable, and deadly virus. So, as Mayor Larry asks, “Why aren’t you in the water?”

As a elementary teacher this metaphore transfers so easily to the current situation of returning to schools this fall. “Don’t worry, the water is fine,” is the voice of many.  Unfortunately, I play the role of the unnamed man on the beach who takes the hands of his children and guides them into the murky waters. Not really the role I would like to be playing, as everyone who is watching this scene is yelling out to them. “ARE YOU CRAZY?  DON’T GO IN! THE HELL WITH MAYOR LARRY.” Yet they do, knowing they shouldn’t, and what’s even worse, they take their children with them.

Children are born into this world with the gift of trust. As an adult, trust is something you earn over time by demonstrating that when you say something you mean it, you stand by your word, responsibilities, and commitments. Oddly enough, though, a child is born into this world already having trust. They look at their parents and family with eagerness to learn and with the belief in their eyes that you will take care of them. That is why it is so sad when we hear stories of abuse or neglect, because we know at some point that child trusted those people. It is the innocence of this trust that marvels me. Without even knowing me, those students new to my class in September trust that I will take care of them, and like all the teachers I know, we will. This is especially emphasized as we now practice lockdown and active shooter drills. Now a new threat emerges, Jaws in the classroom, aka, Covid. Decisions for children are not made by children but by adults with varied interests and points of view. I doubt anyone who is making decisions on the reopening of schools has solicited the opinion of a 5 to 8 year old as part of their research. It is these young human beings who will come to me in September asking, are we safe? 

At the ending of Jaws, the old fisherman, Quint, who believes in none of this fancy fishing equipment to catch the shark, does in fact fall victim to that very thing he feared the most and the least. His damn it –  just do it attitude serves him little as he slides into the mouth of the beast, letting out that scream he referred to as he told the story of being a part of the USS Indianapolis. Brody, the original don’t-go-into-the-water crusader, is left alone to battle the great white. With a single act of I have nothing else to lose, he says that great, “smile you son of a bitch” line and blows the beast to bits becoming a feast for the birds.  If only we too could look this beast in the eyes and blow it to bits, moving it out of our homes, schools, businesses, and lives. Sending it to smithereens – even if for a short time – for as you may or may not know, there were three sequals to Jaws, none as good as the first, but the beast does return.

duunnn,  duuunnnn, duuunnnn………