A Memorial and Message of Gratitude for Educators

In the past few days, we have all shared in the grief that has resulted from the Sandy Hook tragedy.  Rightfully so, much of that pain has been due to the loss of so many children.  I simply have no words for this.  Part of my job as a blogger and writer are to sift through pages of news releases about stories like this.  I don't mind telling you that some of these stories have made me tear up. 

Amidst the dark and looming clouds of this tragedy, I have found a bright silver lining that has worked miracles to restore my faith in us as a people.  I spend a lot of time discussing the worst of humanity.  The hate.  The bigotry.  The greed.  Some of the stories that I have read are such an antitheses to the darkness of mankind, which is also present in the stories, that they have allowed me to be hopeful that maybe, just maybe, most of us aren't so terrible that society is on the verge of apocalypse.  Okay...maybe that's slightly dramatic, but that's how I feel sometimes. 

The stories of which I'm speaking are the stories of the bravery that the teachers and educators of Sandy Hook displayed on that fateful day.  Here are some highlights.

Principal Dawn Hochsprung - died while attempting to overpower the gunman as he entered the school.

Mary Sherlach - school psychologist died along side Principal Hochsprung in an attempt to stop the gunman.

Victoria Soto - teacher killed right after she moved her first graders into a safer area away from the classroom door. 

Lauren Rousseau - hired recently as a substitute for a teacher who was on maternity leave.

Anne Marie Murphy - teacher killed while attempting to shield students who were also found dead.

Rachel D'Avino - behavioral therapist who took on the incredibly honorable task of working with autistic children.

As I wrote this, the first sentence that I typed below these names was that these people gave the ultimate sacrifice for children who were not their own.  Then I thought of the teachers that I know personally.  Each of them talks about their classes using the term "my kids."  These people feel a very deep and personal responsibility for each of their students. 

The stories of the teachers who lived through the incident are as brave as those who died.

Library clerk Mary Anne Jacobs told the students that it was a drill, moved them into a closet, and gave them crayons and paper to keep them distracted from the horrors outside.

Music teacher Maryrose Kristopik blocked the door of her classroom with xylophones. 

Janet Vollmer, a first grade teacher, read a story to her students to keep them calm.

Virginia Gunn kept her class quiet while using her cell phone to contact police. 

Caitlin Roig, a young first-grade teacher turned off the lights to her classroom and tried to explain the situation to her students.  When one of them began to cry she told him to show her his smile.  She re-assured them that she loved them and that everything would be okay.  She refused to open the door, even for police, until she was sure that the students were going to be safe. 

These stories are evidence that we have overlooked and marginalized one of our most important and honorable groups of people.  These are people who accept the responsibility of educating our children...of caring for them day after day.  They do it regardless of the fact that they are blamed for many of the problems that our children have.  They do it with budget cuts forcing them to find ways to provide better education with fewer resources.  They do it for so little pay that many of them are forced to keep second jobs.  They do it amid innumerable hardships simply because they are educators.  They have taken on this mantle - with all of the hardships that it includes.  When tested, they show their honor and heroism.  They show us the very nature of what it means to be caring, gentle, and unimaginably brave. 

With the sacrifice of our soldiers, we often take the time to thank those who have served in the military.

Since the sacrifice of the emergency responders on 9/11, we often take the time to stop and thank our police, firefighters, and emergency personnel.

I encourage you...the next time you see your child's teacher, or any educator, take a minute to thank them.  Thank them for their dedication.  Thank them for their sacrifice.  Thank them for the choice that they have made to spend their lives working in one of the most thankless, low-paid, honorable, and important professions.  Thank them for being one of the few people in the world who cares so much about your children that they will refer to them as their own.

My sincerest condolences to the friends and family of the victims at Sandy Hook.  To the friends and family of the educators - while this will never ease the pain you feel - you can be so very proud of the bravery that these people showed when faced with unspeakable horror.  They are truly heroes.

I want to extend a personal thank you to the educators who are involved in the life of my own child.  I also want to extend that same thank you to my friends who have taken on this role.  You are some of the greatest people I know. 

Sandy Hook Editorial Cartoon Draws Ridiculous Comments

In response to the Sandy Hook tragedy, an editorial cartoonist for The Indianapolis Star, Gary Varvel, created a cartoon (above) depicting what many parents were feeling that day.  While most people shared the same feelings that Varvel portrayed in his cartoon, some people had an inexplicable reaction to the image. 

One poster on the paper's Facebook page said that the cartoon trivialized the incident.  Another commenter called the artist an "ass" for his "portrayal of death in a 'cartoon.'"  Multiple commenters mentioned that it shouldn't take a tragedy like this for people to hug their children or to be grateful when they come home. 

Let me gather my thoughts for a moment...okay.  If any of these commenters happen to read this blog, do the rest of us a favor.  Shut up.  Delete your Facebook account.  Cancel your internet.  Burn your computer.  You have no business dealing with the rest of humanity. 

Here's the thing...this is a piece of art.  It is a cartoon depicting a mother who is so overrun by grief and fear after watching news of a horrible tragedy that she feels the primal instinct to grab her child and hold her close.  This instinct serves so many purposes.  First, it is a part of our natural instinct to protect our children.  As parents, we all have a certain amount of underlying fear whenever our children are not with us.  We know that we can't protect them when they are elsewhere.  This fear is multiplied by thousands when we see others who have just had to face the reality that they could not protect their child, and lose a son or daughter.  When we are holding our children in our embrace, we are as secure as we can be that no harm is coming to them. 

Second, the embrace of a child after this kind of tragedy is a way for parents to release the fear and anxiety that has been building in us from the time we hear the news until our child is in our arms.  The physical contact reassures us and allows our fear and anxiety to dissipate.  This is why many people, such as my guest blogger from yesterday, cried when they embraced their children.  The tears are our way of letting go of that pain, fear, and anxiety.  It has nothing to do with not being grateful every day or not hugging your children at every available opportunity. 

The final point that I want to make is about art.  This is a cartoon.  That doesn't mean that it is sarcastic, mocking, or joking.  It is simply one of many forms of art.  This same scene could have been recorded by photographers across the nation.  It could be painted by an artist who works in realistic painting.  It just happens that this artist works in cartoons.  It is the medium in which he is comfortable.  What he did in this piece of art was to show people across the country that they are not alone in their feelings.  Many of us had the same emotions as the people in his cartoon.  The image shows an understanding of what it is to be human, and what it is to be a parent faced with the realization that someone could take your child from you in the blink of an eye.  If anyone can't see past the form of the art and see the beauty of the image, then that person has wasted his or her life by gaining no depth as a person and no appreciation for artistic representation of life. 

This is a beautiful image and I say, well done Mr. Varvel!  I will end with the words of Mr. Varvel himself (taken from his Facebook page):

"I noticed that some have criticized my cartoon of a mother hugging her child as some bizarre attempt at humor. It is a common misconception that the job of an editorial cartoonist is to be funny. But humor is NOT my job. Humor is just a tool I use occasionally to communicate an idea. My job is to express opinions and in this case, the mood of the country after a tragic event. Obviously, humor is NOT the right tool in this instance. So my cartoon simply reflects the emotional response of parents around the world who are reminded that life is fragile and at a time like this our first response is to hold and love our children. My heart grieves for the parents who cannot hug their little ones any more. I have no idea of the pain they are going through. But I pray that they will find the peace of God that transcends all understanding." - Gary Varvel

Guest Blog: A Chunky Girl's Guide to Food on the Sandy Hook Tragedy

Last night I mentioned that I would weigh in on the discussions surrounding the Sandy Hook Elementary Tragedy.  I began a blog tonight on this subject, but I believe it is more valuable as an article for The American Complaint Department News.  However, I am fortunate enough to know a blogger who has a blog about the shooting that doesn't fit on her own blog.  Her blog is called A Chunky Girl's Guide to Food.  This post doesn't fit into her blog, but it fits perfectly into my realm of the blogosphere.  Please enjoy my first guest blog post and check out her blog and her Facebook page.

Friday morning when I awoke, I had no idea that by midmorning/early afternoon I would be rocked to my core and would grieve for people, and children, that I'd never met or would ever have a chance of meeting. As I heard of the horrific news, my mind went where every parent's mind goes in the wake of a tragedy, your own children. As I continued to receive updates throughout the afternoon, I sobbed and felt a wave of sickness rush over my body as each report increased the death toll. I text my husband expressing my disbelief at this senseless tragedy and how overcome and sick with grief I was. Throughout the day my phone, Twitter, and Facebook were flooded with the same shock I was feeling.  The disbelief, anger, and the need to see/hug/hold/kiss our own children. Somewhere I saw a post someone had made saying that it shouldn't take a shocking event such as this for us to appreciate our children more or hug them tighter etc. Another poster commented that you should be thankful and appreciative everyday your kids come home and no harm was done to them and while I agree with that, I also have to wonder if these people have any kids. As a wife, mother, and student I find myself complacent in my life, running through the ins and outs of a normal day and in the normalcy of my routine I begin to take for granted things in my life as I'm sure most people do. Unfortunately, it takes tragic events like the one that occurred at Sandy Brook for us to snap out of our lackadaisical routines and realize that each day is a gift and not a guarantee.

When I arrived to pick my stepdaughter up from school I noticed a lot more parents there than usual and a lot more moms and dads were together to pick up their children, no one had to say a word.  We were all feeling the same thing. After I signed my stepdaughter out and we got to the car I gave her the biggest hug that I've given her in quite awhile, told her I loved her and that's when the flood gates opened. I couldn't hold back my tears and she immediately asked me what was wrong. The whole way to her school I wrestled with how I was going to tell her, if I was going to tell her.  What would it do to her sense of security?  How would I handle her questions as I explained what had happened that morning?  I found myself caught between joy and guilt. Joy that I was able to bring her home, safe and sound, and guilt because there are so many families who weren't as lucky. I can only imagine that sentiment was felt by parents who brought home their own children from Sandy Brook Friday evening.

Late that night, after I checked on my children as I always do before heading to bed myself, I stopped to say my prayers. As I prayed for anyone and everyone who was affected by the senseless act that occurred I also took a moment to pray for the shooter and his family. While I shared in the warranted disgust and anger felt by many, I had to remind myself that his family is grieving too and that they shouldn't be forgotten simply because they share the same DNA as the young man who seemingly lost his mind Friday morning. They're victims too. I prayed that their community, family, and friends would lift them up in prayer as they would do the innocents that were killed as they went about their morning. I prayed that in the days, weeks, and months to come they would not play the coulda-woulda-shoulda game and feel guilty for the events that transpired. I prayed that they would see they are not responsible for a broken system that has turned its back on the mentally ill and disabled.  This system instead made it such a taboo topic that people are afraid to seek help for fear of being labeled or ostracized by society. The true tragedy of these recent attacks is that a number of these individuals were mentally ill and the system failed them. I believe that if our mentally ill citizens were given the help they so desperately need and deserve and there was a greater open dialogue we would see a dramatic decrease in these types of horrific events. While I'm not excusing or condoning the shooters actions, I have to help but wonder what are we doing wrong so that these young men and women feel as though they need to commit these horrendous acts of violence? Where is the gap, where's the missing link?  Are we ultimately responsible?  Before people jump to conclusions and start shouting gun control, I must remind people that criminals, and those hell-bent on committing murder, don’t obey laws. Guns aren’t responsible any more than cars are responsible for drunk drivers. The gap lies in our inability to take care of one another properly and I’m not talking about just religion, I’m talking real honest to goodness caring for one another. I was thoroughly disturbed by interviews conducted with the shooter’s neighbors who claim they didn’t know him, and didn’t really know his mother. All too often, these types of scenarios are very true and real, we don’t know the people living next door even though we wave, say the occasional “hello,” and  return wrongly delivered mail.

We, society as a whole, need to make a much more conscious effort to get to know the neighbors next door, the loner kid in our class, and the quite young man or woman we see in the same place every single day, because we never know if our attempts to get to know someone will prevent them from doing something unthinkable.  As we may never know the shooter’s reason for gunning down his mother and a school full of children, I stop to wonder if maybe he had felt heard by at least one person, or if someone had taken the time to show a special interest in him, would he have gone down the same dark path Friday morning?  Or would he have seen the light at the end of the tunnel?  While our questions may never be fully answered I’m taking the words from my minister at this evening’s worship service:  we need to take care of those around us, regardless if the only thing we can offer is a conversation.  I challenge all of us who are still reeling from this tragedy and wondering what we can do to make a difference to start with, “hello.”

Mourning for the Sandy Hook Elementary Victims & Families

 

You all may have noticed that I have been fairly silent today.  I'm sure the reason is fairly obvious.  The tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School today has struck me to my core.  I am pretty good at handling tragedy, and even death.  However, I don't take it well when innocent children are the victims of senseless violence.  

As I watched the news of this shooting at work, I began to feel an emptiness.  I couldn't think about anything but a deep and primal need to grab my fourth grade daughter and hold her close.  I began to fear sending my one-year-old to kindergarten.  I imagine that many of us spent a little longer holding our children tonight when we put them to bed.  It's hard not to think of those who had their children taken from them today, and will no longer be able to hug them or kiss them goodnight.  My most heartfelt condolences to those who lost someone today, particularly those who lost a child.  I can't begin to imagine what they are feeling.  Even the thought of that experience brings tears to my eyes. 

I will wait until tomorrow to engage in any discussion of the social and political aspects of this situation.  For me, tonight is not a time for political or social discussion and debate.  Tonight is a time to share in the grief of those who are mourning a senseless loss.  Tonight is a night to say a prayer for the families of the victims and the souls of those who were killed by a coward.