I have a million posts in my head and pictures that need using and ideas I want to share.
But I have been halted.
Some background: I grew up in South Florida, not far from Marjory Stoneman Douglas. I work in a college, not far from Central Michigan University. I am working in and studying Higher Education (basically, the college version of studying K-12) because I care about what happens in grade schools: I care about what happens to each individual life of a young person. I care so much that I elected for my schedule to be chaotic and to not get enough sleep. Most days, education is all I can think about.
On Friday, I found myself numb. Not numb because the feelings were too real to access, but desensitized to what was going on. I was here to listen, to hear the voices of the people around me and care for them. I wasn’t in a place to voice my own fears because they had been smashed by repetition.
In a class two weeks ago, I said that Columbine was in my bones. I was 11 years old and grown ups were scared and for the first time in my life, I understood that sometimes schools weren’t the safest place to be. This violence has been my childhood, and my adulthood.
I wrote to a friend / mentor on Friday:
“I’m worn out on all the talking. So I snuck away from conversations and tried to remember what it felt like to not be scared, to feel like a difference could be made.
I thought of that Loris Malaguzzi poem about the child being made of one hundred, and how life tries to tell them the hundred is not there. I thought about how the children I know say “No way,” like Malaguzzi says. And I thought about how they don’t know what will happen in school today; they just believe their school will be safe.”
He wrote me back with comforting words, and reminded me that we must work to be aware of the violence within ourselves; that we must be conscious of our ability to choose kindness or wrath. He urged that we set aside the questions of motive – that we all acknowledge that we want to be God and have power – we just need to find better ways to do it.
And so I’ll go back to regular posting soon. But for right now, I need to sit here, in the deafening silence of fears. I need to shake the dust that has settled around my spirit and raise my consciousness, and focus on kindness.