The Mob responds

I think I've mentioned before that being a mother of small children does funny things to you. The care and love you have for the vulnerable little lives that God has entrusted to you makes you protective, or sensitive to outside stimuli that would previously have only caused a brief moment of concern.

There are certain TV shows I just can't watch anymore: the subject matter is too raw to handle. I find it hard to see how the threat of harm to a child can be entertainment, even if the actors portray people who are deeply affected by it. Real life events are even worse.

Last week an event happened that hit me. A two year old boy, his body left in a suitcase in a duckpond to be found by other children. So vulnerable, yet left in such a public space. When the Sydney Morning Herald published a photo of his little body on its front page, I was furious. He'd already been treated with contempt by his family, and now the media were treating him with a callousness that belied the mock concern of the headlines. To make matters worse, Channel 7 duplicated the SMH's "mistake" - even repeating it on their evening news tonight, days after the event.

It's both a comfort and a concern that I'm not the only one who has been troubled by this event. I have seen tears in the eyes of fathers who hold their sons close - they too know how it feels to love their little one. Just like them, I've hugged my children and told them that I loved them many times in recent days. But I've concern for the mob. Shared grief and concern all too quickly turns to anger and blame. We are saddened that this has happened, grieved that someone so small could be left in such a horrible way. How quickly that sadness turns to anger, to a bloodthirstiness that leads people to scream "hang her!" at the alleged perpetrator. How quickly the grief turns to a morbid curiosity, and people make "pilgrimages", driving for an hour or more to visit the location. It becomes like the scene of a car accident: we worry about the fate of the people in the vehicles, but we can't help ourselves from slowing down to see the carnage.