In Our Prayers

Every month, my school has drills. Fire drills, tornado drills, and lock-down drills. Whenever we have a Code Red (or lock-down) drill, I go through the same routine. I check my classroom door to make sure it is locked, close the blinds, turn off the lights, huddle all of my students into the corner of the room farthest away from the doors and windows sitting on the floor, and then I stand in front of them. I am not a parent and I have no idea what it feels like to have my own children. But in that moment during the drill, I stand in front of these 25 children. I have no idea what possesses me to do this. These kids are not my blood, and I've only known them for a few months. In fact, the only thing that ties me to them is that they happened to get assigned to my class back in August. However, I stand in front of them because they are my children.

I've been seeing a lot of posts on Facebook and information on the news about the recent tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut and I couldn't help but start thinking about what I would do if a dangerous person came into my classroom. As I thought about it, I realized that I already know what I would do because I do it every month during our drills. I always stand in front of my students because if someone comes through that door, they are going to have to get through me first if they want to get to those kids. I realize that this probably sounds crazy and I'm sure that my mother(s) are probably crying while reading this, but I saw this post on Facebook last night and I think it sums it up pretty well...

“To parents who aren’t educators, this may be hard to understand. Five days a week, we teach your kids. Joke with your kids. Console your kids. Praise your kids. Question your kids. Beat our heads up against a wall about your kids. Gush over your kids. Laugh with your kids. Worry about your kids. Keep an eye on your kids. Learn about your kids. Invest in your kids. Protect your kids. Love your kids. We would all take a bullet for your kids. It’s nowhere in our job description. It isn’t covered in the employee handbook. It isn’t cited on our contracts. But we would all do it. So, yes—please hug your kids tonight—really, really tight. But on Monday, if you see your kids’ teacher, hug them too.”

My thoughts and prayers go out to not only the victims and their families of this tragedy, but also to my fellow educators who are at work today. I know that you probably have a classroom full of confused and frightened children with parents who were reluctant to even leave them at school today. Stay safe. While I was very happy that I did not have to go to work this morning because we are already on winter break, I would love nothing more right now than to be able to hug each and every one of my students. So please say a little prayer for your child's teachers today. Because just like you, they would do just about anything to protect your child.

Keep the victims of this tragedy and their families in your prayers this holiday season and be thankful that God has blessed you with another beautiful day of life.