Is there anything quite as terrifying as being on the school district email list? The thing is, you never really know what you’re going to be catching.
The vast majority of messages are school updates, like bits of info about upcoming events or renovation projects. Sometimes you’ll get a downer about buses being late or some kid having cooties. Sometimes, it’s great news like a note that Little Bean was awarded student of the month.
And then… and then, once in a while
… like today …
… the email title has “incident” or “lock down” or “ongoing situation” in the title and I swear I lose a year off my life every time that happens.
Today’s email began: Good morning. This morning, Manchester Police arrested an individual reportedly brandishing a firearm in the parking lot…
Students at the school reported the person. The school went into “secure campus” mode. Police came, found him before he got near the school and he was arrested. Eighteen years old. Not a student of the school. Charged with disorderly conduct.
Not Little Bean’s school. Taken care of quickly and efficiently. All the proper steps taken. We go on with our lives.
Until the next time an email begins with incident.
I know, I know, I have enough anxiety - in general - to power a small country, but I know my wellness steps. I’ve lived most of my life through a series of well-honed coping strategies.
This part is hard though. The part where I drop her off in the morning. Or the part where she walks over to her friend’s house. Or the part where she goes for a sleepover. Or the part, I imagine, where she leaves for college. Or, I suppose, the part where she moves away. Or perhaps the part where I attend her wedding.
I dunno. I have no answer today. Just venting. Carry on. Try to stay in the moment. Be thankful, and grateful. We’ll get through this together.
As a teacher and a mom, I get this. We had a lockdown drill this morning, and as I sat on the floor in the dark with my students, I grieved for our culture and nation. I wish I had thought to lead the kids in a very quiet and calming breathing exercise. Next time I’ll do that.
My pulse started racing when I started reading this, and we don’t even have kids. I am both saddened and angered by the fact that today’s school kids and staff (and frantic families) have to deal with this. I’ll bet your hugs for Little Bean are a bit tighter for every “incident”.