One of my students committed suicide early Sunday morning. Since then, I have been overwhelmed with emotion, new and old. So this quote seems so appropriate. But I'm not sure what tears are new and what are old. In fact, I'm having trouble just deciphering what I might even be crying about.
Losing students at Southeast Polk was hard. It was harder than I could imagine because I saw all these students hurting. Time and time again.
This time, I'm at Waukee and the cycle is continuing, at least in my life. Another student dies, more students mourn and everyone learns to eventually move on, changed forever by events out of our control.
And here I am, spearheading a lot of the grieving process. Understanding what the students are going through simply because I have seen it so many times. So maybe there is a reason that you chose Waukee. Maybe you foresaw this coming and knew I would be the one that would help my students get through - especially since it directly affected a lot of MY students. This wasn't someone who knew someone who knew someone in one of my classes. This time, it was a student in my class. It was a person I knew, grew to love and will miss a lot. He was a great kid, but had a lot of things going on. It is hard, it hurts and I grieve for the loss of my student, and the loss my students will endure.
Since the beginning of the suicides at Southeast Polk, through your death and through this one, I have learned so many life lessons and I can't help but think this is another one. A major one, possibly as major as the one I learned when you died.
I am here to help students. This is the way I will get back to myself as a teacher. This is the way I will get back to myself as a person. This is where I am going to find my purpose and although I'm grieving, I am also motivated, determined, and willing to make the school's response to tragedy faster, better, more delicate.
So I can't help but think you have something to do with it.
Someone left me a note on my window today. A tiny piece of paper that reads, "You inspire me." Taped to the outside of my window. It was the first thing I saw when I sat down at my desk this morning, and it was more than a blow to my chest. I inspire someone. I used to inspire hundreds at Southeast Polk. Why can't I do it here?
I can't help but think...
It's times like these I miss you, but so thankful for the things you taught me in the wake of your death.
