Your Children Are My Children

"We are a world in grief, and it is at once intolerable and a great opportunity." 

 ~ Anne Lamott

 "Let us resolve that half a century and more of this country as a killing field is more than enough. Let us refuse to let this day of dying fade into memory and the malaise of resignation to things as they are. Let us stand against the odds so that countless others who otherwise would never even know the cause of their slaying or the name of their executioner may instead live, laugh, and find love and not hate. Today Barack Obama spoke his heart and the nation’s—and called on us to take “meaningful action regardless of the politics.” Maybe at last, this is the time; it must be the time. The massacre has come too many times." 

 - Robert Shrum (at Daily Beast)

     Last night my family was witness to me weeping and sniffling. This morning was more of the same. Anticipating another day with an emotional mother,  Mollie (15) crept into the kitchen with a hug and a smile, ready to help bake. Connor (17) appeared, with the offer of running down to the local Mexican bakery, to grab a bag of sweet breads and coffee to start the day. Griffin (18), bleary-eyed and recovering from his production week and opening night at school approached me with the coziest of man-child hugs and the words "What should I do for you before I leave, Mama?". Peter was already out and about picking up extra work on the weekend as we gather resources for what will be a skinny gifting season, but one wealthy in core blessings.

      I have to finish a peace paper, compile a research proposal for my university job, bake a few dozen cookies for a cookie exchange, go get a tree, be witty and attractive at no less than three holiday gatherings in the next 36 hours, lesson plan for next week and still attend to daily wife/mother/daughter responsibilities. As I often remind myself when I feel overwhelmed by the tasks involved in just handling things in an average fashion, my "problems" are the problems of the privileged - those blessed with healthy selves and families, full pantries and schedules, job security and deep friendships. Woe is me seems, well, is, a ridiculous refrain in the face of such abundance. 

     However, I have not been able to accomplish a thing - other than some cookies and lots of crying. The news is turned off, but plays incessantly in my head. My own fertile and malignant imagination filling in too many blanks with the faces and rooms of my school, my students, my parents, my peers. Like so many others this morning in our nation, I am full of heartbreak and anger. But this reaction is a visceral one. I am made physically ill at the events and my own emotional embellishments. I am experiencing this massacre, these lost children, not just as a parent, but even more intensely as a teacher. How many times have I said to a parent, regarding some miscellaneous scuffle between seven year olds, "It is my primary responsibility to keep your child safe at school."? More times than I can count, really. As teachers we recognize that learning cannot take place where there is fear. And that fear can be emotional or physical, but it is a real and important component in education to remove it from a child's school experience.

      I have not been surprised to hear of the heroic acts of the teachers at Sandy Hook Elementary School. Indeed, I would be surprised to hear anything less. We, your child's teachers, confidants and cheerleaders, take very seriously the responsibility handed to us every day when you drop a piece of your heart at our door. Over the years, I frequently thank my parents for the gift of trusting me with their children - and I mean it, deeply. That is why I cannot stop watching, cannot stop crying, cannot stop putting myself in those classrooms in Connecticut yesterday morning. Along with the collective voices of a distraught nation of parents, are the voices of teachers, and we are saying, This is enough. It is not only time to have the gun discussion we keep hearing about on the news, but to have gun action. Reform must happen, and it will be because parents and teachers and sane caretakers of our nation's children must demand nothing less. The time is now. It is our moral imperative. What will you do to further the task?