Response of an "Almost-Educator"

My sophomore year, I had a friend. This friend was a very confused individual who consistently thought about forcing the world around him to feel his own pain and confusion. This didn't scare me away from being his friend, it actually drew me closer to him. [there's something inside of me that likes to fix people] I remember coming to school one day and not seeing this boy's face: I would come to learn that a hit-list was found in his locker. [a list of all the people he would injure if the opportunity arose, possibly a school shooting]. He and I never really talked after that day, though...last time I looked him up, he was on the color guard of some school down south. As I looked his name up today, he was nowhere to be found...causing me to wonder if he ever got the help that he desperately needed...or if this red-headed, passionate about music, artistic individual would become a student pushed to the shadows, being tossed back and forth without ever recieving help.

My junior year, [potentially my senior year, but I think junior] I arrived at school as usual, wandering the halls with my friends [waiting until we absolutely had to be in class]. This morning was different than the rest, there was a heavy feeling as you walked the halls absent of teachers [for they were all being debriefed in the library]. My best friend already knew as she walked into the building in tears. We would soon be informed over the announcements that one of our fellow students had died the night before...a suicide that nobody saw coming. [unfortunetly the first of many to come] Over the next few days, thousands of thoughts raced through my mind: class was practically on hold, students filled the auditorium where counselors were, the entire school was dismissed for the funeral-we were trapped in a state of disbelief and confusion. People would come to blame the teachers, the parents, friends. [placing blame takes the heat off of yourself]. I remember seeing the horror on our teachers' faces as they dealt with the news themselves, and tried to be a stronghold for their students. I couldn't even imagine-when you sign up to be a teacher, you don't think about ever having to debrief your students on such news once...let alone the dozen more deaths we would be told of. 

By my senior year, my school had suffered nearly a dozen deaths of all sorts-and there were plenty more students who were somehow saved at the last minute. By the last few-counseling was no longer a school-wide event, we didn't get dismissed for the funerals, and there were far less tears. We had grown used to this horror. As children, we barely understand the hell that underwent at Columbine, but we would grow to learn more about it, about Virgina Tech, about the Amish Shootings and more. We became disensitized to the hell that often over took schools-that killed high school students, even endangered middle school students. 

My senior year we would also learn of a complete accident that would take four special needs students lives. A bus wreck that would make national news-pain struck our school once again. There had been other young students die within the past few years, but nothing like four innocent souls taken at once. We couldn't come to understand a God that would allow this to happen, nobody fell at fault necessarily...we were all just left in a state of shock. 

Now today, my senior year of college, and I turn on my computer to see the unexplainable news of more than twenty killed in elementary school shooting. Four years ago, my mind couldn't wrap itself around the idea of four innocent kids being killed on accident...four years later, I stand still incapable of wrapping my mind around this tragedy. 

Going into education, especially that of middle school and high school, I dread having to deal with the death of a student, but realize that because of the sinful world of pain and trauma we live in, it is a good possibility. But elementary teachers, I would never think of them having to deal with these things. I don't even know how I would react in that situation, so I applaud the faculty who protected their students quickly and effienctly today. It is your selflessness and compassion for your students that I aspire to as a future educator. I pray for the families of those students-injured, dead or grieving; for the faculty who will remain scared of the shrieks and tears; but also the family of the accused and the confusion and blame that will be placed on them.

I pray that we, as students, as educators, as members of this country will not grow desensitized to news like we received today. I pray that our hearts will hurt for each piece of horror we hear-no matter how old. I pray that, as I enter the school building that I will never loose my sense of urgency with students. When I heard of my friend's hit-list, I dreamed of a school shooting-of not running away from this red-head, but instead running towards him-trying to find out why. When I heard of the many suicides within our corporation, I had always dreamed of meeting those students and being able to change. It is because of these tragedies that I find myself a semester away from becoming an educator. I pray that current educators aren't scared out of their positions but moved to take more action; that future educators don't quit out of fear but grow determined to really know their students; I pray that the students of every school have someone to listen, that each student has the courage to report any possibility of terror that they hear, no matter how small.

I pray that as a country, we don't crawl inside our homes, but we find the urgency and courage to reach out to those around us. To love without limits or boundaries. To not only hug our own children, but the child who is alone in the corner, without anyone to process with.