I pulled out the sweater that is the closest to green that I own...it's totally a "teacher sweater" but I don't care. Yesterday afternoon, I went in to school to work on my plans for the week. It's something that I've done almost every weekend since late August. I actually enjoy the solitude of a silent school building. But yesterday, I needed Richie to come with me. I needed the extra strength of someone there with me.
He walked me in and get me situated in my classroom. My classroom is the first room on the left past the office. He had me step out of my classroom to see how much of me or my door could be seen from the office, just in case. We discussed the lock down plan that my school has in place and how I could make it safer for my students. After some time, we agreed that I was okay for him to go and run an errand. So he left, and I stayed in that solitude.
I couldn't work. I stared out the tiny rectangular glass window in my classroom door. I stared as if I were waiting and watching. I heard noises that normally wouldn't make me think twice. I texted Richie to tell him that I couldn't do it. I couldn't be alone there.
This is a room where I have spent countless hours. I have spent many nights, weekends, holidays. This is a room full of life and color and love. But that day, it was empty.
As I got ready for work today, I couldn't help but think of the teachers at Sandy Hook Elementary that started their Friday in much the same way. Thinking of their plans for the day. Seeing the students that you call your own. Making plans for the holiday...asking yourself if you got everything that was on your list. They didn't see this coming. None of us did.
We teach. We aren't soldiers. We have hearts and love for the students that walk into our classroom and trust us with their precious minds. We aren't programmed to handle the stress and fear that comes with the job nowadays.
Our school is holding an emergency meeting today, to discuss how things will be changed and affected since Sandy Hook. I was happy to have my family to hold close this weekend in the fall of this tragedy. But today, I can't help but look forward to seeing my other 27 children that I hold dear to my heart as well. Children whom I would go to the ends of the earth to protect. I want to be there to allow their sense of security and safety to rebuild. To rebuild my own sense of security and safety.
Right now, it's shattered. Being home alone while Kage is silently sleeping (in my bed) makes me fear the unknown. What happened to the United States? The people are not supposed to live with this fear. The fear that one of our own will turn on us. A silent face in the crowd.
My husband kissed me an extra time this morning, and hugged me before he left. He's afraid too. I'm not sure how long it will take to feel secure again, but I look forward to a day where I don't fear going out and taking my baby with me. I look forward to a world that I can have faith in again.
My thoughts and prayers are with the families of the victims. So close to Christmas, their loved ones were taken away. The Christmas tree will be a reminder of this tragic loss. The gifts have been purchased, their beds lay empty. Their rooms still have the crumpled PJs on the floor from the night before. Their favorite cereal is in the pantry. Their toys still on the floor. I couldn't handle it. I'm sure they haven't slept--haven't eaten--haven't breathed a breath without regret for what they wish they could have or would have said if they had only known.
Today I'm wearing my green and white to honor those lost at Sandy Hook Elementary, my thoughts are with you.