Skip to main content

We didn't sign up for this

As a nation, we are saddened, angry, and frustrated about the events that took place in Connecticut. We look for somewhere to place the blame. Gun control. No God in schools. Mental illness. We mourn for the young lives lost and loss of innocence. Why did they have to die? Our men and women in the military know of the possibilities of death in their profession, yet they choose to enlist anyway. Firefighters and policemen know the danger, but choose to serve the public. Teachers, on the other hand, see a different job description.  We go into the job expecting to make the difference in the life of a child. We want to instill a passion for learning. We know our responsibilities will include many meetings, duties, and lots of paperwork along with the teaching. Nowhere in the job description do we ever think of the possibility of putting our lives on the line. While we sacrifice for our students on a regular basis, never do we think about the possibility of sacrificing our lives. Yet, when the need arose, that is exactly what six teachers of Spring Hope Elementary School did.

My heart is heavy. A fellow teacher told me about the shooting during school on Friday. Her eyes were filled with tears as she told me, thinking about her own little ones I am sure. It shakes me to the core. We practice for the possibility of evil entering into our building while hoping it will never come to pass. I can't even imagine it being for real. Yet it was. Even though it wasn't in my school, I am mourning.  For strangers. Teachers I never met. Parents grieving. I cry for the students. Those who will go no further in school, as well as those who will never go to school as innocent and naive as they once were. My heart aches for the policemen, medical examiners, school counselors, pastors, friends, and relatives. The journey to healing is sure to be a long one. I want to wrap my students up in a great big hug for I know they are trying to make sense of it also. In the meantime, I find solace in hugs from my children.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Hardest One Yet

 From the time I began this blog, I made the conscious choice that I would be honest and open in the moment – whatever is going on. For the most part, I have done that.  After struggling about whether to write about this particular challenge (let alone share it), I chose to do the uncomfortable and do both – write and share. “Your certification has not even been processed yet. Probably won’t happen until at least the middle of January.”  I took a deep breath as I heard those words a couple weeks ago and I realized what that meant. Christmas would look very different than originally planned. The retroactive pay that Santa was counting on to make the holiday something special for our family would not be coming. I took a deep breath as I hung up the phone and walked out of my classroom, despair bombarding the hope and excitement of the upcoming holiday. A tornado of thoughts began whirling in my head as I walked to the guidance office. Playing with our budget in my head trying to

The Next Chapter Begins...

The first round of tears happened during the 8 th grade promotion. It has been such a wonderful year with all of them – 7 th and 8 th graders alike. The second round of tears came when I learned I do not have a contract for next year. I will not be returning to Benson Middle School unless the displaced teachers do not jump at the chance for my classroom.   Right after she told me, I did my best to remain professional and keep the tears at bay. Unfortunately, they came anyway. About the time the tears hit my eyes, an email a dear friend sent me when I first wrote about the contract situation came to mind: “There is always a reason for things. Maybe God wants you to move on and inspire other students.” I love what she says. I feel that with my whole being. However, it did not make hearing that I have no job any easier. So now what? I am floating off the edge again. My family began the year in two different states. We are reunited again in North Carolina. Both Tony and I with

Aging sucks.....or does it?

Upon first thought, watching a parent age sucks. Unnoticeable at first. A bit of a stoop, some creaking in the knees, whitening of the hair. The doctor’s visits begin, as do the pills One for high blood pressure, another to thin the blood, and a handful of vitamins to top it off. The signs are there, but it is easier to see him as he has always been. My father, a pillar of strength. Until my pillar was knocked off-kilter. A simple surgery and the mortality of my father looked me square in the eye when the drugs took hold of his brain. Amidst his fidgeting and confusion, I realized…AGING SUCKS! And then….enlightenment dawned upon me….AGING IS BEAUTIFUL Wrinkles tell of smiles while silver hair speaks a life of memories. Knees creaky after years of kneeling in prayer, offering up a lap, and climbing up the stairs for one more kiss goodnight. Almost forty-eight years of memories nestled in my heart. Memories of my father. Taking us to church each Sunday Building and fixing