the last few weeks have been full of ups and downs, with an overwhelming preponderance of sadness and frustration. just over a week ago, i received a call late one night from a fellow teacher. she informed me she was at the scene of an accident involving two of our high school students who had been drinking and driving--and that one of them was dead.
it's the call no counselor wants to get. ever.
nearly 4 hours from home, i immediately packed up my car, kissed my sleeping niece and nephew goodbye, hugged my mother and father and prayed with my sister-in-law. into the late fall darkness i drove. my sadness was matched with adrenaline and the responsibility i felt in getting home safely to support the remaining 48 students in school.
then i got the call he was alive.
my plans changed and i detoured to the hospital both boys were taken to nearly 80 miles away from home. when i pulled in, three fellow classmates were standing outside, hands in their pockets, heads to the ground. after a brief conversation, i made my way inside. the waiting room was heavy with anxiety and every chair was occupied by someone looking tired and years older than before.
broken back. broken pelvis. broken ankle. broken nose. broken hand. blown knee. collapsed lung. facial lacerations. broken. broken. broken...
the teacher and i followed each other back to town. slowly to avoid the deer but so slow it was hard to stay awake. after getting about an hour of sleep, i was up to call the administration. staff walking through the door the next day not knowing was not an option. Disappointingly, one administrator informed me it wasn't "our" problem since it happened outside of school. excuse me?
what part of 12-students-witnessed-the-scene-and-thought-their-friends-were-dead do you think will not impact our school? my point, as well as the phone calls, were made.
i have met with every single student in the school: individually, in groups, in guidance. kids were open, honest, forthcoming. some were mad, sad, confused. they were also reflective, insightful, and mature. so in the end, can i stop them from making stupid decisions? no. can i help them make smarter decisions? yes. can i be there for them through every step of the process? absolutely.
and i will be.
so what happens now? for one, i have taken off my counselor hat and put on my adult-member-of-this-community hat. we organized a town wide meeting two days after the accident, which drew 37 concerned citizens ready and willing to do whatever necessary to help keep the kids in our small town safe. the resulting question to act upon was: what am i willing to do that i was not willing to do before? for me, it means no longer passively taking note of students out wandering the streets at all hours of the night but instead stopping, asking them what they're doing, and suggesting they get on home. i will also make a courtesy call to parents expressing my concern in seeing their child out that late.
one caring adult at a time. one student at a time. one step at a time. because it does take a village to raise a child!
