Fourteen. FOURTEEN. That is what my mind keeps going to, too, in the midst of hearing about this. What kind of surreal reality when we've all become so numb to news like this. I am so deeply grateful for your words. I know the absolute heartache you must have felt writing this, so please know I read every word and I am holding it all tenderly.
I can’t even imagine the fear and bravery encountered every day to go to school to learn or teach. I’m not sure I would have been a teacher if I had lived in the US. My mind boggles when contemplating it all.
Thank you, Tam. I don't know how to explain it. I didn't feel fear all the time, and I never thought of myself as brave. Most of the time I was too busy doing the things that needed to be done and was focused on that. I only became aware of a sense of threat as an underlying constant when something would happen to bring it to the forefront--some sound that wasn't right, or a person who seemed off in some way. It makes me so angry and sad when I compare how it is now to how it was when I was a child or a beginning teacher.
Well said. You describe how it is for me, too. I started teaching 31 years ago and agree completely with the way you describe the change in our sense of threat - usually in the background, until something brings it forward. But it wasn’t there 30 years ago.
It's chilling how normalized these tragedies have become. I was a junior in high school when Columbine happened and therefore got to live the majority of my school years in safety and ignorant bliss. How f'd up it is that in our country the price of sending your kid to school (or becoming an educator!) is terror, fear, stress and the constant threat of potential violence. There has to be a better way!
Thank you for showing up - here, and in the classroom all those years. And thanks to your husband,too. Words so insufficient in proportion, but heartfelt, nonetheless.
We recently watched the documentary 11 Minutes, which focuses on the mass shooting at a concert in Las Vegas. At the end, they show the names of all those lost to mass shootings and where they occurred. I’d say 90% were at schools, and as the names kept scrolling, Mike and I exchanged horrified looks because we didn’t even remember some of them.
I hate this so much. My hope is that Gen Z is fed up with being on the front lines, and that it reflects in future votes and policy changes. But how many more children and teachers have to die before that happens?
My worry is that Gen Z, having never known a world without this kind of violence, will not think it possible. I remind myself all the time that the world never goes back. That doesn't mean it can't get better, but it will be some different kind. I hope we evolve to something that feels free in ways that matter so much more than the kind of freedom being sold to so many right now. I want the kind of freedom from fear that comes from safety, rather than from being armed in a fortress.
Rita, I sat with this piece for a few days, with the whole situation to be more precise. It's still with me, churning up a thousand feelings. I ache for you and those like you for whom this hits even closer to home than the rest of us. The reality of it all taps into one of my most likely triggers: powerlessness. Your son's comment hasn't left me, nor has your pointed and sensible response to having to find a way to hold this horror yet again. We have to do better. We have to.
I applaud you for standing your ground here, and for redirecting the blame to the proper...dare I say it?...target.
Thank you, Elizabeth, for taking time and care and not turning away, and for responding to let me feel some company in this hard place. I keep hoping something will happen to turn the ship of this kind of violence. Each time, I hope something in it will take us over some kind of tipping point. I guess I'm still waiting for that.
My son is fourteen. Thank you for writing this. For years, my school has accepted cell phone use in class. This year, our district has said no more. The difference is dramatic. I want to imagine we can do the same with guns. No more. No more access. No more victims of school gun violence.
It is so interesting to me, how there is sudden change on cell phones happening in school districts all over the country. For so long we all knew how detrimental they had become in classrooms (and out, too), but we all threw up our hands, feeling there was nothing that could really be done. And now, a sea change. It would be so wonderful if the same could happen with guns. I want schools to be able to become more open and free again. It does something to us, having all the doors locked, cameras everywhere, armed officers in the hallways. We know humans can't learn when they feel threatened, and yet we have cues all around us in schools that we aren't in a safe place.
Ooof. Glaf Rona Maynard encouraged me to read this. Thank you for sharing your personal experience and perspective. This is now part of the school experience is heartbreaking. The normalization heartbreaking, as you went out, is devastating.
Fourteen. FOURTEEN. That is what my mind keeps going to, too, in the midst of hearing about this. What kind of surreal reality when we've all become so numb to news like this. I am so deeply grateful for your words. I know the absolute heartache you must have felt writing this, so please know I read every word and I am holding it all tenderly.
Thank you so much, Meg. I really appreciate your response. Fourteen is such a hard, tender age. How can we lose sight of that?
I can’t even imagine the fear and bravery encountered every day to go to school to learn or teach. I’m not sure I would have been a teacher if I had lived in the US. My mind boggles when contemplating it all.
Thank you, Tam. I don't know how to explain it. I didn't feel fear all the time, and I never thought of myself as brave. Most of the time I was too busy doing the things that needed to be done and was focused on that. I only became aware of a sense of threat as an underlying constant when something would happen to bring it to the forefront--some sound that wasn't right, or a person who seemed off in some way. It makes me so angry and sad when I compare how it is now to how it was when I was a child or a beginning teacher.
I imagine it’s like many things we live with daily, you just get on with life.
Exactly.
Well said. You describe how it is for me, too. I started teaching 31 years ago and agree completely with the way you describe the change in our sense of threat - usually in the background, until something brings it forward. But it wasn’t there 30 years ago.
When I think of all the things that have changed, it makes me profoundly sad. Sending hopes for a good, safe year.
Me, too. Thank you.
It's chilling how normalized these tragedies have become. I was a junior in high school when Columbine happened and therefore got to live the majority of my school years in safety and ignorant bliss. How f'd up it is that in our country the price of sending your kid to school (or becoming an educator!) is terror, fear, stress and the constant threat of potential violence. There has to be a better way!
There are better ways. Other countries don't live like this. I'm glad you got to know how it used to be.
These are the words I needed and wanted to hear in response to this. Thank you.
Same
Thank you for showing up - here, and in the classroom all those years. And thanks to your husband,too. Words so insufficient in proportion, but heartfelt, nonetheless.
Thanks so much for this. I feel it all so deeply that I am numb. Your words brought tears, and I’m grateful.
I know the numbness, Peg. I am the same about so many things. I suppose part of me is grateful that I am not yet numb about this kind of thing.
We recently watched the documentary 11 Minutes, which focuses on the mass shooting at a concert in Las Vegas. At the end, they show the names of all those lost to mass shootings and where they occurred. I’d say 90% were at schools, and as the names kept scrolling, Mike and I exchanged horrified looks because we didn’t even remember some of them.
I hate this so much. My hope is that Gen Z is fed up with being on the front lines, and that it reflects in future votes and policy changes. But how many more children and teachers have to die before that happens?
My worry is that Gen Z, having never known a world without this kind of violence, will not think it possible. I remind myself all the time that the world never goes back. That doesn't mean it can't get better, but it will be some different kind. I hope we evolve to something that feels free in ways that matter so much more than the kind of freedom being sold to so many right now. I want the kind of freedom from fear that comes from safety, rather than from being armed in a fortress.
Rita, I sat with this piece for a few days, with the whole situation to be more precise. It's still with me, churning up a thousand feelings. I ache for you and those like you for whom this hits even closer to home than the rest of us. The reality of it all taps into one of my most likely triggers: powerlessness. Your son's comment hasn't left me, nor has your pointed and sensible response to having to find a way to hold this horror yet again. We have to do better. We have to.
I applaud you for standing your ground here, and for redirecting the blame to the proper...dare I say it?...target.
Thank you, Elizabeth, for taking time and care and not turning away, and for responding to let me feel some company in this hard place. I keep hoping something will happen to turn the ship of this kind of violence. Each time, I hope something in it will take us over some kind of tipping point. I guess I'm still waiting for that.
Well said, Rita. Restacking.
Thank you
My son is fourteen. Thank you for writing this. For years, my school has accepted cell phone use in class. This year, our district has said no more. The difference is dramatic. I want to imagine we can do the same with guns. No more. No more access. No more victims of school gun violence.
It is so interesting to me, how there is sudden change on cell phones happening in school districts all over the country. For so long we all knew how detrimental they had become in classrooms (and out, too), but we all threw up our hands, feeling there was nothing that could really be done. And now, a sea change. It would be so wonderful if the same could happen with guns. I want schools to be able to become more open and free again. It does something to us, having all the doors locked, cameras everywhere, armed officers in the hallways. We know humans can't learn when they feel threatened, and yet we have cues all around us in schools that we aren't in a safe place.
Ooof. Glaf Rona Maynard encouraged me to read this. Thank you for sharing your personal experience and perspective. This is now part of the school experience is heartbreaking. The normalization heartbreaking, as you went out, is devastating.
Thank you for reading and taking the time to let me know how it landed for you. We've normalized so many heartbreaking things, haven't we?
♥️
Thank you, Rita, for this post. My daughter is a school teacher. But even if that weren't the case, this subject is close to my heart.
Holding your heart in mine.