The flower, Columbine, is both delicate and lovely. But my memory connected to the word Columbine has to do with the horrendous activities that took place ten years ago at a high school of the same name. Unfortunately, that day has its entry on a page of my life with other events that made a change in me forever.
We are now at the tenth anniversary of that occurrence. I have read some of the articles being written on this anniversary. They all have their opinions, however, I think there are no real adequate words for any of it. I wonder if the two boys who committed the crime could have imagined the profound effect they would have on so many. Perhaps that was exactly what they had hoped. Still, I don't believe their minds could have included a school teacher from Georgia - for that was who I was on that fatal day.
The year of the Columbine incident, I was serving as my school's teacher of the gifted. It was my first year employed in that capacity. I occupied a small room that just the year before had been used for special education. That previous year, one of our beloved teachers was eating lunch in that small classroom (with several teacher friends) when she suddenly stood up, complained of a stomach ache, and then suddenly dropped dead. I happened to be in the office when the frantic call came through. I ran down the hall with my principal to find my dear colleague already dead (although no one would admit this at the time). Our school went into immediate lock-down - students outside on the playground were to stay out - no one was to enter the hallways. I suppose we were attempting to shield the children from the ambulance, the medics, and their gurney. In one fast second of time our school had changed forever. Another close friend to M and I were chosen to tell M's closest peers that she had died - something I hope never to have to do again. Counselors were immediately deployed to our school for our staff and children. In the next few days we found ourselves scrambling to add - attending a funeral, conducting school memorials, and giving counseling sessions - to our regular year-end activities. Two teachers eventually left as soon as the year was over - never to return again to the school.
Few wanted to go into or use the little room. People would walk down the hall and avert their eyes when they passed the classroom. And so - when the principal offered me the new gifted teaching position she asked if I would take the little room and somehow redeem it. For the most part I feel I was successful. I filled the room with bright and brilliant activities. I made the entrance to my room a playful invitation - filled with color and good things. Children began to want to have their class "stopped" near my little room so they could read what my class had posted on the outside walls. Students from other classes would come to my door - just to peak in - to see what my kids and I were up to - to inquire how they might "get in there." But still..... I had peers who would not come in - who would want to meet me in their room for our discussions - the memory of M's death too vivid.
The loss for me was more than just the death of my friend. Yes, I missed seeing her hug her students and her youthful optimism, but personally I had to deal with the fact that I had suffered the loss of a place of safety. You see - my home had been broken into a couple of times after we built it in the late eighties. We live out in the country on a little used road. The first time our home was broken into it was obviously the work of some teens - "just having fun" - checking out the new house in the area. Then there was the time I came home to find my cats outside and the lights on in places I knew I hadn't turned them on in. We had been hit by professional burglars who had obviously watched us and recognized two teachers leaving early in the morning and arriving home per schedule. We were told that we shouldn't be concerned about our physical safety because professionals don't want to run into people. Right. I felt violated and I lost precious irreplaceable possessions. So - after installing a security system - I learned to live with the "new norm" feeling about where we lived - but it wasn't a place of safety anymore. At the same time - our church was going through a division - and a place that was supposed to be a safe place to worship God and have fellowship became a place of great emotional woundedness. Again, a place of safety removed. Then the death of my friend at my school. School was a place that (in spite of scuffles with the kids, parents, and staff from time to time) was my last visage of a safe place.
So it was on that fateful day ten years ago - that I was in that little room when I first saw the events taking place (live via television) at Columbine high school. Once again, death entered that little room. This time its form was exceedingly evil and violent.
It was an innocence lost. It was a violation in which you know - you will perhaps survive - but you will never be the same. It changed school security. It prompted new classes for teachers to attend concerning student safety, recognizing the signs of mentally, emotionally disturbed students, parents had their fears aroused concerning their children's safety - and unfortunately, the children themselves were tainted by the very steps we were taking to keep them safe and secure. (as in - their awareness of potential harm was heightened by the very drills we were forced to have)
Last month Hubby was threatened by one of his students. Hubby works at a school where the day students are a step above the title "at-risk". He was originally hired to teach the evening high school students where the majority of students are choosing to attend evening hours because they work during the day. They aren't your typical high school students and come with their own challenges, but they are okay. However, this semester Hubby was also assigned a two hour class of the daytime students. A class which is supposed to be legally limited to no more than eighteen but in which he has 27 registered. These are the kids who have been kicked out of their high schools due to behavior. (think drugs, concealed weapons, etc.) The fact that anyone in their right mind would expect someone to teach math for two hours to this number of disturbed students is beyond me. Anyhow - this particular student told Hubby that he was going to find out where he lived and kill him. Needless to say - in this day and age - and after Columbine - this boy was hauled away in handcuffs. The last I heard he was removed by the education tribunal from the county system for a year. I haven't heard what has happened through the court system. The day of saying inane threats is over. It does make one wonder what this young man will do with a year of no school - perhaps he will be detained in juvie - I don't know. I do hope he gets the help he needs.
I know this is an extremely long post - thanks for reading (if you are still there) Bottom line: I remember Columbine. For my own reasons - I will always remember it. Although I did not leave because of my feelings, that became my last year of teaching in a public school. The perpetrators at Columbine failed to detonate the bombs they planted that day, but I believe they blew up more than they could have ever fathomed.
Oh boy, it hit me like a ton of bricks just now that I confused/combined two tragedies, Columbine and VA Tech. Sorry for the confusion. Both are so sad.
Posted by: Ulli | April 20, 2009 at 05:09 PM
I, too, have always loved the Columbine plant/flower--and last year I tried once again to make it work in my garden. This year two out of the three plants are coming back, so I'm thrilled.
I live in VA, so when Columbine happened we of course were praying that none of 'our kids' were hurt. The church was able to find out that all the Tech students from church were okay. However, although none of the kids I personally knew were hurt, a few from our area suffered injury or death at the hands of the shooter--the shooter was also from our area of northern VA. One of the dead worked in the same store as my son. Another had been the babysitter of an acquaintance. The sadness of it all was consuming.
I don't dwell on these things, and honestly had I not heard from the news that this is the 10th anniversary I wouldn't have known it. It isn't the date that is in my memory--it's the act, the event, the sadness when I recall that day. But life moves forward. We all learn. Healing happens.
May your DH and family be safe from the young man who threatened him.
Posted by: ulli | April 20, 2009 at 08:19 AM