Sandy Hook

Greetings Apples,

I have been wanting to write something about the horrific tragedy in Connecticut, but I needed time to process.

When I first heard what happened, I was in the middle of teaching when my cell phone buzzed.  I glanced down at my desk and saw a news story text alert that there was a shooting at an elementary school in Connecticut. As I directed my attention back to my students, I didn't have much time to give it a second thought. Our principal was off campus for meetings that day, and a short while later, the teacher-in-charge called my classroom to let me know about the shooting and notify me that some parents had begun pulling their kids out of school. Obviously, we were all instructed not to say anything to the children.

This all took place on a Friday. By the time I got home from work, more information was being reported on the news stations. I spent the whole weekend trying not to read or hear too much, but Sandy Hook was everywhere. It was hard not to see my children in the faces of those children. It was hard not to see my coworkers in the faces and stories of their teachers and staff. It was hard not to see myself in faces of the three young teachers who died trying to protect their students from horror.

Tragedies happen every day. Shootings, disgustingly, have continued to become more common since the Columbine shooting that took place while I was in high school. But when something so profoundly horrible happens that is so completely relatable to a part of your life, it is very hard not to feel affected by it.

The weekend progressed, and emails began pouring in on my phone from the district, the superintendent, and my principal. We were having a staff meeting first thing Monday morning to discuss protocol, how to handle students with questions and any lingering safety concerns.

I cried on my way to work on Monday morning. Seeing the faces of all the children on campus Monday morning felt impossibly sad. Sitting in meetings listening to the schedules of the school psychologist and counselor on campus all day for grief counseling was too real. The moment the bell rang, and I switched into "teacher mode" was a lifesaver. While I was in my classroom with my students, I didn't have any time to think about what was going on outside of those walls.

Since all of this has happened, my district has been hard at work identifying potential safety issues at all of our schools and putting plans in motion, both short-term and long-term, in an effort to protect our schools. There has been some surprising resistance from parents to some of the changes, but as far as I am concerned, everything we are doing is in the best interest of keeping the children and the school staff safe, so that we can do our jobs and help children learn without fear of anything else.

Will all of these new changes guarantee completely that something bad will never happen? Of course not. But at least we were trying. The deaths of all of the innocent at Sandy Hook Elementary School - the teachers, the principal and staff, the small children - can't be for nothing. My school and I may not be able to weigh in on huge national decisions like gun control or mental health awareness, but we can work on a smaller scale to protect our school and our children.

My heart goes out to everyone in the community of Sandy Hook Elementary School. For all the tears I have cried and bad dreams I have had, I can't even begin to imagine the depth of their sorrow. To the brave, heroic teachers, both who died and survived, I am honored to share this noble profession with you.

Miss H.