As a school librarian, I like to think I’m well-versed in the practice of situational awareness.
I need to be aware of what younger students are doing behind my back when I’m helping their classmates.
The same is true of older students, but they also pose a hallway challenge. Middle and high school students are often taller and wider than me. They are wearing huge backpacks. They are easily distracted. If they aren’t looking where they are going, they could mow me down. If they spin and pivot, I could be blindsided by a backpack.
Such thoughts were on my mind the other day, as I traversed the food court at the grade 7-12 school. Hungry students are the most dangerous. Suddenly my path was blocked by a young woman who was—my interpretation—flirting with a young man. I stopped. She, meanwhile, kept tossing comments at the object of her affection, while walking backward.
It was a recipe for disaster. I had nowhere to go, as I was in the middle of a crowd of students. “Watch out!” I said. Luckily, she was able to hear me over the din of dozens of ravenous teenagers.
Now, neither of us would have been hurt had she backed right into me. But I was holding my lunch container, as I was en route to the staff room microwave. There could have been a mess to clean up.
This moment prompted me to reflect on an earlier incident that had happened in the supermarket. I seem to have frequent interesting experiences while shopping. In fact, I just saw a colleague in the grocery store who said, “Maybe you’ll have a Hannaford experience today!” Well, I didn’t.
But I did have a mind-boggling one a few weeks before. I’d turned into an aisle and found myself blocked by a carriage that had been planted smack-dab in the middle of the aisle. A woman was hefting some large item from a top shelf. Her male companion was standing nearby, watching.
As she brought the item down and wrestled it into the cart, her friend started backing away. Towards me.
Before I could even say anything, he’d backed into my carriage.
He turned to me and almost snarled. “You could have said something!,” he said.
“I’m sorry you banged into my carriage,” I replied. “But I didn’t have a chance to say anything.”
He said something loudly as I maneuvered my carriage down the aisle, but it was unintelligible. I ignored him.
This guy was obviously a person who didn’t want to take responsibility for anything, even an inconsequential mishap of his own making. I, on the other, feel responsible for far more things than I need to. More things than are healthy to worry about, as a matter of fact.
Which is why I was so interested in my response to that student who nearly backed into me. Was the guy in the market right? Should I have said something to him? I did, after all, manage to squeak out a warning to the student.
I think one natural response, the autonomic nervous system reaction to the sight of “danger,” is to freeze. In both cases, I stood still, apparently waiting for a cue to move, to dodge.
But in both cases, there simply was not enough time to get out of the way. Each incident lasted no more than 90 seconds. In the supermarket, I didn’t think the surly man was going to reach my carriage. I was on the other side of the aisle from where he had been standing. I’m still wondering why the heck he had to back up so far.
Needless to say, he demonstrated no situational awareness.
At school, the student began walking backward as I arrived. I sensed a problem immediately.
Wikipedia defines situational awareness as “the perception of environmental elements and events with respect to time or space, the comprehension of their meaning, and the projection of their future status.”
It is a vital skill for such people as military personnel and air traffic controllers, but I would venture that it’s also important for educators and shoppers.
Of course, lives are not endangered if carts and people collide. However, I think market experiences would be much more pleasant (and safer) if people observed the rules of the road. To wit: the person in the wide aisles at the front and back of the store (typically the meat and fish sections in the back, cash registers in front) has the right of way. Those coming into those aisles from the secondary aisles (international, baking goods, pets, etc.) need to slow down and yield to traffic.
There should be this Bible-like injunction: “Thou shall not leave thy cart in the middle of the aisle.”
Really, life would be better if we all had more situational awareness. I will excuse teenagers. They have enough on their plate. I am happy to be aware for them as I walk in their midst.
But grown-ups at the market: Be alert. Watch where you’re going. And if you happen to back into somebody’s carriage, laugh it off. Don’t blame them because they stood there, sure that you were going to stop before you got yourself in trouble.
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