And So The Story Goes...

It is creeping up on us. It's almost been a year.

Just when you think the world has learned from such anguish and pain, there is another public place or school in lock-down. There are more mental health concerns unnoticed or not spoken about, and more victims in the ground.

I took my new job not knowing the connection it had to the former principal of Sandy Hook. One day I was filing something in the main office and saw her face in a frame. She had once been the principal of this school as well. This became really significant to me.

 Sure as a community surrounding that school it had personally inflicted so much trauma, and ripped so much of our communal innocence away. Suddenly we were afraid to be teachers, afraid to send our kids to school, and looking suspiciously in each others eyes full of worry.

I have, in the almost 11 months, tackled the fact it could have been my first grader just miles away. I grappled the weird conversations with people that knew the victims, or had kids that survived that day. Every twist and turn of the almost year that has gone by has revealed another connection. We live to close not to be connected.

So this building that I now call my second home, once was hers too. It also held her husband who taught years here. I think about her every time I walk into the present principals office. I think about the fact that we all start somewhere, and we all move on elsewhere eventually. Who would have thought being a teacher or a principal would ever put you on the front line? Who would have thought that someone that used to sit at that same desk that I print from daily, or ate lunch in that same teachers room-gave her life that day with a large attempt to save others. And so now, every time I file something in that main office, I look at that picture and I thank her for this reality. We all have no idea what we are made of until we are pressed to use it.

I am pleased to go to a conference that is not only in memory of one of the victims, but is based upon the greater good of prevention. How can we help to make this NOT happen again in our communities? How can we advocate, and deal with crisis before it's a crippling crisis.

I have wondered a thousand times how I could give back. How can I help these loving families grieve? They can only eat so many casseroles, and hear so many "I'm sorry's". What about using what I got? I got my degree, and the ability to help others in a school setting. I have the ability to advocate, analyze,  and address things that main be concerning before they are a concern. I have the ability to help by being the beforehand.

There hasn't been a day I haven't thought of those little faces, or the brave adult ones. Not a day I haven't thought of the fact that my day might feel bad, but those parents got out of bed today was a victory. Just as the world has expected for everyone to move on, and those in the trenches have tried hard to-- it is seemingly harder again.

I was reminded at a staff meeting where I am still getting to know others working in this district how entrenched and creatively weaved we are all in this together. I listened to the story of this brave social worker who went to find her own child that day in the firehouse, and did. However, she went on to stay, and happened to be the one who made that dreadful list of missing names that not one of us would ever imagine having to do. My heart cried and wailed for her.

There are so many stories. To many stories. And just when you thought you heard them all, there is another. Just when you think you have seen all the pictures you would ever see in the world about this, there is one smiling at you sitting above the filing cabinet at work.