It's hard to imagine, but it's been three years since it happened.
I was in the later stages of my practicum. I was swamped with work and stress while looking forward to the end of my year. I had even started to reconsider my choice of entering this profession (as I've mentioned from time to time). I think it was a Sunday night while I was at home grading papers. My principal called me. I thought this was strange, since he and I had never spoken over the phone. He told me to sit down. That's something that doesn't happen in real life. Or, I guess it does. I heard words like, "unexpected" and "tragedy", but as I sat there frozen in my chair, K just looked at me trying to figure out what was wrong. I'm not one to be at a loss for words. All I could say was, "Oh my god" and, "Thanks for letting me know." Before that, I had never experienced such a profound sense of paralysis.
It didn't really hit me until the next morning when I walked into the school. I saw the faces of a few kids and some hadn't even heard. They looked at me the same way they always looked at me, but they seemed different to me. Something had changed. The realization of their mortality, maybe. Or maybe about the secret, sad lives they lead (suicide was suspected but never confirmed). Or maybe they just seemed more like kids than they ever had before. And they were kids that, even in all my frustration and anger and annoyance at their work ethic or incomplete assignments, were kids that I cared about.
I sat in my office all morning, and couldn't bring myself to go into the hallways. I kept thinking that as long as I didn't have to see anyone, that I would hold myself together. Then Dee, one of my practicum supervisors, came into the office. And I lost it. I couldn't even imagine how I could see the kids after that and not be in pieces. Every time I glanced out my office window into the hallways, I thought about every one of the kids in my classes and in the hallways and that I coached and that I barely knew who still said hi to me in the hallways.
The next few days were a blur or just trying to nod and smile my way through the few classes I had and through the halls and classes of the school.
I have all this on my mind because I recently found out that a student from a Kelowna school was murdered by another student late last week. At first, I didn't know what happened, and since I have two cousins who attend the school, I found myself struggling to breathe and I was panicking. I couldn't imagine if it was one of them. I found out when I was speaking to a teacher-friend who works at the school and who taught the victim last semester... she was pretty upset and was looking for someone to talk to, so I happily obliged. Luckily, she was understanding of my questions and told me who it was and what happened. And although I found a great sense of relief in learning that it wasn't one of my cousins, the sad reality of one child killing another made me mourn the nature of our lives. And my mind flashed back to KL (my former student). And to all of my students now who make me smile and drive me crazy and make me wonder about my place in this profession and in the world.
T
