The time to talk about it.
After the shootings in Connecticut yesterday, I went to Duchess's school today to shelve books. (The part-time library assistant cannot keep up with the shelving on her own, and it's a very satisfying volunteer task.) The doors, which are usually unlocked between 8:30 and 6, were locked today, and the principal was working in the lobby, guarding the doors. The parents and staff with whom I spoke while I was there were very subdued and some were really upset.
Thursday night was the holiday singalong at the school, a much - beloved annual tradition. It was pretty great, without being unusual in any way, just a typical school event, probably replicated more or less in schools across the country. The kids were grouped by age, and the tiny kindergarteners sang with enormous enthusiasm. All the kids, even the ones I don't like, were all lovely, full of life and joy.
I think everybody who ever reads this blog knows and shares most of my politics, and you all know how I feel about this. But all of my opinions about the urgent need for gun control and mental health supports are sharpened by my personal experience of my community school. Even a mediocre public school, with all its small humiliations, cruelties, and disappointments, is a place that is brimming with energy and hope and the relentless force of life in an absolutely non-ironic way. (Especially on the last day before the winter break.) Every time I visit the school I feel a little heartbroken by the ways life is going to crush some of these sparky, radiant kids, but today was the first time I felt heartbroken by the idea that somebody would take that life away entirely. So I'm feeling pretty angry about that, and flailing around a little bit to figure out what I can do. But mostly I'm feeling heartbroken.
Thursday night was the holiday singalong at the school, a much - beloved annual tradition. It was pretty great, without being unusual in any way, just a typical school event, probably replicated more or less in schools across the country. The kids were grouped by age, and the tiny kindergarteners sang with enormous enthusiasm. All the kids, even the ones I don't like, were all lovely, full of life and joy.
I think everybody who ever reads this blog knows and shares most of my politics, and you all know how I feel about this. But all of my opinions about the urgent need for gun control and mental health supports are sharpened by my personal experience of my community school. Even a mediocre public school, with all its small humiliations, cruelties, and disappointments, is a place that is brimming with energy and hope and the relentless force of life in an absolutely non-ironic way. (Especially on the last day before the winter break.) Every time I visit the school I feel a little heartbroken by the ways life is going to crush some of these sparky, radiant kids, but today was the first time I felt heartbroken by the idea that somebody would take that life away entirely. So I'm feeling pretty angry about that, and flailing around a little bit to figure out what I can do. But mostly I'm feeling heartbroken.
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