As a teacher, I’m trained in school safety procedures. I know how to protect my students in the classroom.
I tried to explain why I was crying; it’s the shared grief among the community of motherhood that couldn’t be felt by anyone who hadn’t held their baby in their arms. I explained to her about how we cannot fathom the pain the parents of the slain children must be experiencing. I praised the words of commitment toward ending gun violence, knowing that was a tangible action she could grasp. I shared my sadness and horror that a son would kill his mother–but there is no explaining that. All I could do as I drove along was hold her hand and share my tears.
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Sharing My Tears, Again: A Reflection on the Arapahoe High School Shooting - mamawolfeMay 16, 2015
[…] year, on the day of the Sandy Hook shooting, I shared my tears with my teenage daughter as we drove through the Sierras, hands clasped. Somehow I never imagined […]Reply