I remember the day so vividly. I was a freshman in high school, almost twenty years ago. There was chatter in the hallways about a school shooting. Of course, this was before access to the news was in the palm of your hand. We didn’t have information and it took about one more class period to find out the location of the shooting—Jefferson County, Colorado, at a school called Columbine High School. As a teenager, we were definitely scared, but we thought, “that could never happen to us.” As the day went by, parents started flooding the school asking to pick up their kids. Mine were among them. I didn’t understand then why we needed to leave school because of something that happened all the way in Colorado (although we were in middle school, so to leave school early was a plus)! Now as a parent, I understand more. I understand that it wasn’t about the thought that two boys could come all the way to our school, it was about love and comfort, compassion. They needed to see us, because the way they were dealing with this tragedy was far different than how we, as children, were feeling.
Fast forward about 12 years later. Sandy Hook. I was a teacher at the time, newly married. Though I didn’t have any of my own kids, I had my students. When the news started buzzing around, which happened a lot faster because of technology, we were in shock. It was very hard going into our classroom full of young kids, looking at their smiley faces and knowing that these same age kids and teachers had just had their life cut too short, for no reason. My heart still breaks for those families and when I see the pictures of their sweet children. Even more now… having kids of my own.
Here we are, 2018. Almost twenty years after I was a freshman in high school, as a mother of two children and teaching middle school students. As a mom, I now understand the pain my parents were going through, and why they just wanted us in their arms, reachable, knowing we were okay. I found out about the Florida shooting late in the afternoon. I want to say because I was wrapped up in work, but I think it’s because it has sadly become the norm. For me though, it was a different norm. I, just like my parents, just needed to see my kids. I knew they were okay. I know they have amazing security at their school—but they are our hearts, our everything. My eyes were glued to the news, watching parents, friends and loved ones grieve for their kids and not knowing the future. Which is how I feel now.
The next morning was a Thursday. Just like every day, we woke up, rushed to get ready for school and head out the door. It was a muggy morning and that is exactly how I felt. Let me take that back, I didn’t know what to feel. I knew the second I left my house I had to drop my kids off at a school, and then I had to teach—my stomach was in knots. I’m not one to tip-toe around life, I love to live it to the fullest, but something about this shooting really struck a chord with me. I’m not sure why it hadn’t hit me this hard before (since there have been other shootings since my babies were born), but it did.
It was very difficult to prepare to teach that day, as well as drop my kids off at their school. That doesn’t make either job less important, it was just a rough day. As I looked around my classroom, I thought what would I do? Oh yes, our lockdown drills. But what about at my babies school? What could I do then—I’m not there. Which is how parents already felt before, but now even more so.
I’m not sure what the future will bring, nor does anyone. What I do know is we need to be there for each other, parents, non-parents, teachers, professionals, and most importantly: be there for our kids. They need to know we are there for them, and make sure when the day is done they go to bed with a smile on their face. When all is said and done, I want to know my own kids, as well as my students, are happy, and able to communicate if they are having a bad day or need someone to talk to. We need to let them know it’s okay to be upset, or want a change, and give them that nice big hug they are yearning for, even if that just means reaching out to them asking how their day was. As a teacher and a mom, I know compassion is such a huge part of a child’s life. They need this, and we do too. You never know how that one hug will change someone’s day… someone’s life!
