A couple of years ago, halfway through Grade 12, my two oldest switched high schools. Thanks to a family move which took us out of their former high school area, they went from a school with less than 800 students to one with over 1,800.

Although it was a bit of a culture shock, within a few days at the new school, they quickly adapted and adjusted. They both learned which hallways and staircases to avoid, which washrooms were safe, and which cafeteria tables they should sit at. And which one's they shouldn't.

But sometimes, as some students in a Burlington high school learned last month, there is no way to avoid a confrontation or being targeted at school. It doesn't matter which hallway or staircase you take, or which cafeteria table you sit at. Sometimes you can find yourself in a situation that is completely beyond your control.

It's every parent's nightmare.

Last month, five Burlington teenagers, on their first day of Grade 9, were subjected to a hazing ritual known as "getting gummered." They were on their way home from school when two cars pulled up, filled with Grade 11 and 12 students. After ordering the Grade 9s into an isolated area, the older students beat them with wooden paddles. And then, using markers, they drew nines on their faces.

The article from the Globe and Mail reports that the Grade 9 students weren't hospitalized, but that they were beaten hard enough to produce bruises. Two of the older students were in police custody the next day, facing charges of assault with a weapon.

In the article, a Grade 11 student who attends the school said that it happens every year. He also claimed it's "not a big deal" to the student body.

Hmmm. Maybe not a big deal to those students whom, like him apparently, have never been the target of one of those bullying scenarios at public school. But perhaps a bigger deal to those Grade 9 students who were forced, against their will, to participate in a degrading and physically painful 'ritual.'

My two oldest are now in their second year of university. Last September, when they were starting their first year, I was concerned about the possibility of hazing. But since I associate university hazing mainly with sports teams and out-of-control drinking games, I assumed it was something that could mostly be avoided.

In other words, I considered it within my kids' control whether or not to participate.

But those Grade 9 students were just walking home from school. They certainly didn't choose to participate in what happened next. They had no control.

I've been thinking about those Grade 9 kids lately, wondering if they - and their parents - can ever feel that high school is a safe place again after what happened to them. Something like this can ruin an entire school year.

How do we prevent something like this from occurring again in the future? Is it even realistic to hope that we can?

By coming forward and involving the police, those Grade 9 students and their parents have already taken the first step. They refused to pretend or to go along with the idea that what happened to them is just part of some 'harmless school tradition.' Or rite of passage.

For those who might try to kid themselves by thinking that what happened to those students in Burlington last month was a rare event, unlikely to happen again, don't. It already has.

A story from the CBC reports 25 students were suspended from a high school in Manitoba last month. Another story reports 17 students in Edmonton expelled for hazing some younger students in Grade 10. I'm sure there will be more.

Is hazing now spreading from the university environment to high school? Or was it there all along and we're just now seeing more students coming forward to report on their attackers?

Although only a small percentage of those who get involved in these kinds of attacks ever get charged, fortunately, this might soon change.

"This is something that can't be tolerated," said Detective Jeff Hill of Halton Regional Police to the Globe and Mail in an earlier interview.

"We have to send a message. Parents want to know that their kids are safe."

Officers investigating the Burlington case made it clear that they will treat future incidents harshly: "Hazing is socially unacceptable," Det. Hill said. "Criminal charges are the right response. Students need to feel secure."

I can't help but wonder and worry about those victims who don't come forward. Those kids who keep silent about the abuse and humiliation they felt at the hands of their fellow (and usually older) students. They need to feel secure, too.

All of our kids do.

Every school year there's a new flu season for parents to contend with.

I'm already thinking about all the lovely germs my four-year-old, about to start school for the first time this fall, is bound to bring home with him in about six weeks.

But this September we won't be dealing with just your average, run-of-the-mill, back-to-school cold or some sniffles. Most public-health experts believe there will be a second attack from the H1N1 virus this fall.

HN1N, also known as Swine Flu, is predicted to hit full-force by this September, and apparently the virus targets young adults - the Globe and Mail reported that the median age of those infected in Canada is only 18.

If the H1N1 virus is going to sweep across the country, university campuses are an obvious pit stop for the Swine Flu. Aside from the fact that it seems to target university-aged young adults, come September, there are going to be thousands of students packed into lecture halls, studying together in the library, and eating in the cafeteria. The perfect targets.

Its already been declared a pandemic. H1N1 is being compared to the 1918 Spanish Flu. Even if that's an exaggeration, the virus is still a scary reality. What if this next wave, about to strike just as our children are headed back to school, turns out to be more severe? Even deadly?

So how are university students going to be affected? Namely, what's going to happen to students who contract the Swine Flu? And what about those students in residence?

And how are universities preparing for this threat? What are universities doing to protect our children? What can parents do?

My two oldest have already taken some steps to minimize their exposure.

They'll be doing two of their electives by distance education and, with the exception of two labs - where their physical presence is required - their other courses could easily be done by podcast if necessary.

They'll be playing it by ear, waiting to see how big the threat is once they get back on campus this September.

Some universities, such as McGill, are readying their health clinics to isolate their very sick students. McGill is considering help lines so that less serious cases can avoid entering the clinics altogether.

Sports and extracurriculars could get the axe if the flu spreads quickly enough.

The University of Western Ontario has armed itself with masks, gloves and hand sanitizers. Dalhousie University has backup staff ready for the school year.

It's not hard to work yourself into a full-blown panic.

So what the heck is an effective strategy? Keeping all our kids home from school? Wearing a bio-hazard suit 24/7? In a crowded school system, is good cough-and hand-hygiene etiquette going to be enough?

Every teacher I spoke to said basically the same thing: Kids need to wash their hands.

"Not too long ago it was MRSA staph, now it's Swine Flu. And frankly, a lot of students aren't taught simple hygiene procedures at home," says Pam, a middle-school teacher.

My two oldest are well-versed in simple hygiene procedures. When they head back to school this September, they plan to have a bottle of hand sanitizer handy at all times. But it doesn't matter how germ-aware my two oldest are. The deciding factor: my four-year-old. The weakest link of the family. With Typohoid Mary sitting across the kitchen table, hand washing and hygiene habits could be completely undermined.

Most of the parents I spoke with seem calm. Some expressed concerns about the upcoming outbreak, but no one was overly panicked.

"Even though I have my sometimes laughable 'doomsday pantry' and I'm fairly disaster prepared in general, my trend toward worrying about the fall seems to be 'wait and see' for now," says Sam Jones, a parent of a high school student.

Like most of the parents I spoke with, she has tried to strike a balance between making her son aware of the necessity of proper hygiene technique, without causing him undo stress. But her son is involved in a lot of contact sports, and sharing of equipment, so she wants to ensure he does take some steps to minimize his risk.

"I stressed hand washing and trying to stay away from anyone noticeably sick. I feel like I've prepared him enough without causing him stress.

He doesn't seem worried, but he is aware."

But if she ever suspects her son isn't taking the threat seriously enough, she won't hesitate to make sure her son gets the message.

"I will say though with great conviction that if I come to the point where I think making him nervous will contribute to his safety - in the event that things are getting ominous - I have no qualms about turning up the fear-mongering."

Another parent, with a daughter starting Grade 2, says it's harder to keep younger kids protected from the virus.

"Sometimes I really worry about it. If your kid's in an older grade when this kind of thing hits, it's easier to keep them healthy and safe. A seven-year-old doesn't have the strongest immune system, and can't understand the importance of basic hygiene. Little kids do stupid stuff and don't even know how dangerous it is. What if someone sneezes on her in class?"

Words like "pandemic" and "high-risk category" might sound off alarm bells, but how serious is the threat?

Donald Low, chief microbiologist at Toronto's Mount Sinai Hospital, says that the Swine Flu continues to be a relatively mild virus.

And, unlike back in 1918, today we have antiviral drugs and antibiotics to treat influenza infections and secondary cases of pneumonia.

But still, as a parent of five school-aged children, I know I'll be watching, and still feeling a little anxious, as it all begins to unfold over the next six weeks.

(Editor: Information about what universities are doing to prepare for a possible H1N1 onslaught in the fall)

Not all summer jobs are created equal.

Depending on the student, a summer job can represent completely different goals. Making money for the upcoming school year. Gaining valuable work experience. Or maybe just a way to learn responsibility and independence.

According to a study from the Canada Millennium Scholarship Foundation released earlier this year, close to 50% of all full-time post-secondary students have jobs. For my two oldest, who have just completed their first year at the University of Waterloo, their summer jobs are a way to help pay for their education.

But sometimes a summer job isn't just about making some extra cash, a way to help pay for the next stage of your life, or to gain invaluable work experience to help you move forward in your future career.

Sometimes, it can change your life.

It was the summer of 1975. I was 15 years old and working as a Counselor-In-Training (C.I.T.) at Camp Amy Molson, a residential summer camp specialized to the needs of socially disadvantaged children aged 4 to 8.

Barbara Patterson, the camp director, explained to us during staff training that some of the campers had been emotionally, sexually, or physically abused. Most of them came from single parent homes, and all were living well below the poverty level.

These kids don't take anything for granted, she said. Their stay at Amy Molson might mean the first time they've ever been able to really be kids. Some of them are used to taking care of younger siblings. Others are used to going to bed hungry. Many of them are going to test the camp's claim to never use corporal punishment, no matter what, she added.

She also told us that most of the kids would be crying their hearts out on their last day at camp. Happy to be finally going home to see their moms, but also sad to be leaving the safety and nurturing environment they'd experienced during their stay at camp.

As I sat on the floor in the staff lounge that day, with the rest of the staff all around me, my biggest fear was that one of the other counselors or C.I.T.s would discover my secret. That this wasn't my first time at the camp.

I had been there for the first time 11 years earlier. As a junior girl camper. I returned every summer until finally, at age 10, the camp director gently told me I was really too old to keep coming back. But she promised there would be a spot for me if I looked her up in five years. To return as a C.I.T.

When I called Barbara Patterson five years later, she didn't hesitate.

Of course she remembered me, she said. Come to her office and we'll talk.

As a result of that talk, I ended up working at the camp for the next 10 summers. As long as I stayed in school, the director would interview me again each summer. I went from C.I.T., to camp counsellor, to program leader, to remedial counsellor, working closely with some of the camp's most troubled campers. I loved every minute of every summer.

As it states on its website, the camp's mission is to "...provide underprivileged children with a happy, outdoor holiday where campers can build self-esteem, develop positive relationships and learn valuable life skills in a context that promotes group learning and nurtures each child individually ... we enthusiastically accept children from all ethnic and linguistic backgrounds and home environments. Camp Amy Molson is an extremely rewarding experience, for both children and staff."

I couldn't believe I was being paid to do something I adored.

After several summers as the assistant director, now a few credits short of earning my first undergraduate degree at Concordia University in Montreal, I became the camp's executive director.

Unlike the summer jobs with the camp, this one was full-time. In addition to operating a residential summer camp near Hawkesbury, in Grenville-sur-la-Rouge, Quebec, Camp Amy Molson has an office in Montreal. It offers support to some of its neediest families year-round.

I still remember the winter boots, Christmas turkeys, and lightly used toys the camp director would drop off at our home in Pointe St. Charles each Christmas. I still remember the year she gave me a small suitcase to replace the huge garbage bag my mom used to send me off to camp with each summer. I still had it years later, when I went off to university for the first time.

After five years as the camp's executive director, I knew it was time to move on. But I never forgot the camp. I knew it was a magical place. A place that could change children's lives.

Recently I learned that the camp is celebrating its 65th anniversary.

There have been many changes since I last stepped onto the camp's grounds. For example, after checking out their website, I learned that the campers are now ages 5 to 12.

But some things haven't changed.

It's still a not-for-profit residential camp for inner-city Montreal children. Many are recommended through social service agencies, and most would never have the chance to attend summer camp if not for Camp Amy Molson.

Last summer the camp started a new program - Leaders in Training (L.I.T.) - for 13-year-olds. The executive director, Shauna Joyce, explains that it fills that gap when campers aren't old enough to be part of the staff, yet too old to return as campers.

"Some of these 12-year-old inner-city children are in high-risk environments and we felt they would benefit from another summer with us."

It's been 34 years since I first got that summer job. Decades later, I still believe my most valuable education came from Camp Amy Molson.