I watched the news last night, saw the pictures of our “new” old schools and I while I am glad they made them safer, I feel saddened at the same time. Many of the schools now look like prisons. The school shootings have left marks. Locked and guarded doors, steel walls, double entrees and armed security guards on duty are now the norm in many schools.
I remember school well. The feeling of panic when the teacher surprised us with an unexpected test. It didn’t happen often, but once or twice I was unprepared and I remember it well.
I noticed the silence, turned around and looked at her on my screen. The young girl just stood there, didn’t say a word and at first, I didn’t understand.
A parents powerful poem about the high school shooting in Florida.
It was
17 mornings like any other
17 snoozes and then another
17 breakfasts on the go
17 “byes” promising “hello”
17 bodies in sleepy motion
17 minds embracing commotion
I remember the last day in school, like it was yesterday -it was 35 years ago. I had spent the last 9 years here at the boarding school, so far away from home and it felt bitter sweet. We all were excited, children and adults were running around like chickens. It was time for our theater play, afterwards the nuns and our choir would sing for the last time, before it was time to part.