Day Twenty Six: Teacher

I am a teacher.

Even those of you who live under a rock of nonchalance have probably heard via your facebook news feed, the radio or television about what happened today. The tragic passing of twenty seven people, many of them young children, would be horrible in any circumstance. The fact that their lives were brutally taken from them, especially so close to Christmas, just compounds the heartbreak of this situation.

I’m a teacher and I cannot fathom the day I have to stand between my students and someone with a gun. Every time I hear about one of these attacks, of which there have been many, all I can think is that the next time it might be my classroom. It might be one of my kids. As a high school teacher, I have the added fear that one of my students might even be the shooter. It’s a terrible thought to imagine, but with each passing tragedy our world becomes more and more terrifying. As the safety and comfort of malls, movie theaters and brightly colored kindergarten classrooms become unsafe, I cannot help but feel that the conversation we need to have now is one we have been needing for a long time.

I know exactly how the next few days, weeks and months following this tragedy will play out. After all, my home state suffered both Columbine and the Aurora shootings, so we have been covered by a dark cloud of violence since I was a child.

Over the next couple of days, the politicians are going to be screaming about gun control laws, mental illness and violence in video games/tv/movies and just about anything else they think might have caused this. The shooter’s life will be turned inside out, trivial facts will become part of the investigation and his home and family will be slandered, slurred and slighted. Westboro will plan to picket a funeral that hosts far too many tiny coffins and everyone will be offended by what they say. We will all be equally offended by everything our president says, we will be unsatisfied with the efforts of police, fire and emergency responders.

That’s the next few days. That’s not tonight. Tonight we all get to go home and hug our parents and our children and our grandchildren. We get to cuddle our puppies and talk to our friends and family. Tonight we gather and pray for peace and love over hate and violence. Tonight we promise our little ones that they are safe and they are loved. Tonight we watch their favorite movies, our favorite movies, listen to our favorite Christmas songs and thank any deity or non-deity that it wasn’t us, that it wasn’t here.

I think that my friend Kyle put it best when he posted: “Tomorrow will be the day to decide what to do about the tragedy in Connecticut. We will talk about politics, religion, society, et al. But today, those involved in the shooting are not just victims of violence, hate, or mental illness. They are our daughters and sons, our sisters and mothers, our fathers and our friends. Let us not extend a finger to point blame or cause, but a hand to help those who are suffering through the unthinkable. Today, let us love and support those who lost. Tomorrow is another day.”

Kyle is right. Tonight we go home to love and full hearts, heavy with sadness ready to be lightened with joy. Tomorrow we can argue about guns and mental illness and everything else. Tomorrow we can begin the uphill fight towards justice or whatever we perceive as justice.

Tonight I’m a teacher and I stand with all other teachers praying that this will never be our school, our classroom, our children on the news. Tonight every parent and every educator begins to plan what we will tell our children and how we will teach them love and understanding.

Tonight we love.

Challenge to my Readers:

Watch a youtube video with kittens or puppies. Watch baby sloths getting a bath. Do something you enjoy and revel in your joy for it. Do something nice for someone. Give someone a hug. Smile. It’s been a hard day for all of us; remember that when you see people today.

Anyone who wants to help those who have been effected by the tragedy today can go here to help. If you can’t donate, please say a prayer or have a kind thought towards the families and victims.