Perspective
It was Friday, December 14th. I was following my routine. I woke up, got the kids off to school and headed out to volunteer in one of the boys’ third grade classrooms. The room next door was empty for the day, and I was hiding in there from the prying eyes of the kids so I could wrap little presents the teacher had bought them, and make goody bags and treats for their holiday party.
I was at the school for four hours, never once worrying about anyone’s safety.
And then I got home.
I checked my phone for the first time since morning. I then put the television on after seeing a random blip about something in Connecticut. I had no idea what had happened. I can tell you that I would never, could never, have imagined what I began to see and hear.
And like the rest of our nation, I cried.
And my eyes have continued to sting and tear ever since.
Just like that, life gets put into perspective for you.
Twenty-six different families had their entire lives shattered, their lives forever altered. Innocence was stolen from hundreds of children who had to endure terror and horror, just because they were doing what almost all kids in America do. They were in school. A place that for some, is safer than their own homes. A place that we send them to learn, to grow, to become independent.
I am sure not one parent in Newtown woke up that Friday morning fearing their first grade child would be in harm’s way while sitting in a classroom. Not one.
I was in an elementary school classroom that day, too. I walked a school hallway. Never once fearing anyone would come in and terrorize the entire school…the entire community…the entire nation.
Terror and tragedy are now spoken almost as frequently as a first grader’s sight words.
Our generation was lucky. We grew up after the nuclear weapons drills our parents had to practice in school, and before terror attacks and mass shootings occurred in our own backyard.
My kids now practice “code red” drills. They practice hiding in closets and behind bookcases. They know no different. To them, these drills are the norm.
Until the winter break, our school district has all schools on a modified “code red” lockdown. All classroom doors must remain closed and locked. No student may be permitted in the hallways without an adult. Police officers are now stationed at each school to protect the first student who arrives on campus, and the last student who leaves at night.
Today, while I was helping out in my daughter’s kindergarten class, an officer was walking in the school courtyard. One of the students asked why he was there. Without missing a beat, the officer responded, “I heard there may be a class party or two this week, and I REALLY like cookies!” Never once did he remove the smile from his face. Just like that, the little boy was satisfied with the answer, and skipped off to catch up with the rest of the line.
If only life could be that easy. If only that simple, innocent answer could ease our worries, dry our eyes and fix the pain that each one of us feels deep within our hearts. Just like September 11th, our lives have been altered…forever.
Dani is a stay at home mom of five who (in between sports practices and the never ending loads of laundry) chronicles her (sometimes daily) struggle to balance motherhood, life and sex on her blog, Suburbia Interrupted.
