Written on Thursday, June 18
Waking to the news of tragedy in Charleston this morning had
me flummoxed to say the least. I’m still
processing what happened and to be honest, it would be easier to
compartmentalize it and remove it from my daily vernacular, but I can’t.
As a teacher, I have a huge responsibility to the students
in my care - a responsibility that calls me to be a model of how to deal with
tragedies of this level. My students look to me to learn how to process big
events that cause us all to question.
They voice their questions and want to know my opinions and
concerns. It’s a responsibility that is
not taken lightly.
Over 15 years, I’ve experienced my share of tragedy in the
classroom. Some have tiptoed into the
lives of my students quietly and were delicately placed in my care while others
busted in through the door and affected families and communities - The World Trade Center attacks, Hurricane
Katrina, students who have been abandoned, as well as, violence among families,
local communities, and world wide.
I’ve taught students from all walks of life – affluent,
middle-class, impoverished; on both sides of every issue; from Democrat and
Republican families; liberal, moderate, and conservative; all races; American,
Russian, Korean, Filipino, Asian, black, white; quiet, charismatic, magnetic;
below average, average, and advanced, and more.
There have been times where it hasn’t been easy to find
common ground when dealing with complex issues in our society.
When September 11th occurred, I was teaching in a
school with a strong military presence.
Many of our parents were called to action and deployed to fight the war
on terrorism. My classroom was a mix of
families who supported that effort and those who didn’t, but it didn’t change
the fact that my students and I had to coexist in the same classroom despite
the opinions that were shared over dinner tables.
When Hurricane Katrina caused the heart of New Orleans to
pour into my rural school district and my town, the teachers in my school had
to help pick up the pieces of brokenness – lost homes, lost lives, failed
systems – without pointing fingers of blame.
We had to help students process what had happened. I remember Haley who I had to physically pry
away from her mother each morning as she yelled and screamed and cried. By the end of the experience all of us were
in tears. Haley did not speak for the
two weeks she was with me. She had lost
her home, her school, and didn’t know where her friends were. During her time with me, she wouldn’t leave
my side. If I had to be out of the room,
she needed to come with me because she would meltdown. She experienced so much loss in such a short
time she couldn’t bear to have me out of her sight.
The events across our nation over the last year have sparked
anger, hurt, and fear among many and have trickled down to dining room tables
and carpools around the world. Students
across our nation pick up every nuance, every word, every opinion that is
shared within ear shot – right, wrong, justified, or ridiculous – and they
bring it onto playgrounds, into cafeterias, onto the football field, and on the
school bus – all creating a firestorm of emotion that students often don’t know
how to navigate, but are expected to handle.
Over the years, I’ve tried a few things that helped not only
my students process events, but me as well.
1. Build
Relationships: I don’t know if there is
a more critical thing to do with my students than this. Be the go to for your students and create a
relationship that will allow each one to come to you when life gets too big to
handle on their own or they are experiencing emotions they don’t
understand. Stand in the gap for your
students. When one does come to you – LISTEN
FIRST before you try to offer solutions.
I wonder if some of the kids and adults who have created the violence
had someone who did that for them.
2. Provide an opportunity to express emotions: This
can be tricky, but it can be done and it can be powerful. When 9/11 occurred, I gave my students an
index card to write what they were feeling anonymously. Questions were asked, frustrations were
expressed, hurt was exposed. I then took
each index card and filtered through the words.
The next day, we created a circle and I read some of the comments and
questions that were gleaned from the class.
I did it again this year when our class experienced some events that
rocked the world of some of my students.
This time I took the comments and created a wordle to display what my
students were feeling. This activity was
probably one of the most powerful things we did this year. It was silent and it was tense to begin with,
but then a dialogue began to occur between two groups of students who had
misunderstandings of one another.
3. Don’t go it alone: Tap into resources outside of
your classroom. Ask your media
specialist for books to read with your kids that mirror the issues that are
being faced. Utilize the guidance
counselor or other staff to help you teach students how to process
emotions. Keep in contact with
parents. Let them know what their child
is experiencing so the dialogue can continue at home.
4. Love: It sounds so simple, but it is so hard
some days. As a teacher, I may be the
only example of loving without judgment.
There are days that I fail, but my students know that I love first. I need to be the visual of what love looks
like. Be intentional with your students
and celebrate the differences that make each unique. Find the good in each one, every day. Love through the hurt, the anger, the fear,
and the tears.
How do you deal with tragedy in your classroom? Share your ideas in the comments below. We can all benefit from multiple tools in our
toolbox for situations that require a delicate touch.
~Shasta
