I had planned an amusing little entry tonight about working out; it's going very well these days.
Instead, as I logged on to the computer, I saw a headline about an armed 8th grader killed in Brownsville by police.
My day at school wasn't a piece of cake, but it was a helluva lot better that everyone's in Brownsville today. I ended my day in tutorials with 3 eighth grade girls visiting me; I taught them last year and they were begging to come back to my class, as they do every time I see them. I am always flattered, but I have to say after reading about this student today, I am savoring it more than usual.
I have taught middle school for 10 years. I am the wife of a dedicated police detective. I am reeling. I have so many questions. Why? What made that boy (because no matter how "mature" they think they are, they are just boys in 8th grade) feel he had no other way to make someone hear him? And the worst part is, because of the choice he made to point the gun at officers, we will never know any answers.
That officer will never forget this day. Not if he lives to be 100 years old. I hope he will take comfort in the knowledge that he did what he had to do to go home safely tonight and to keep the other children in that school safe. I'm sure it's little comfort. He will have no more answers than the rest of us.
To my students and other young people I say--you have people who love you. No matter how bad it may be at home, teachers at school will listen to you.
Real weapons have real consequences. Leave them alone. Period.
Know that no police officer wants to harm you; they want you to follow the law and they want you to go home safely each night. They have the same desire for themselves, as do their families.
Your teachers, principals, custodians, counselors, librarians, and lunch ladies would not come to school each day if they didn't love their work and love you. School is supposed to be a safe place for everyone. We must take of one another so that remains true.
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