Gun Violence in My Life

I attended a memorial today for Antoine, a former student who was killed this spring. In spite of the tragedy, I was glad to have the chance to see many former students - most graduates '06 or '07 - who I might otherwise have lost touch with. As I told the young man who organized it, sometimes bringing people together is the best we can do!

I was so proud of him: organizing any event when you're 19 isn't easy, especially a memorial service for a friend who shouldn't be dead! But it was lovely. We had a cook-out in the park, with a time for people to share their thoughts about Antoine, a prayer, and the release of a ton of balloons, each with a little message written & tied to it. Cool.

I remember vividly the moment I first heard about the shooting of a student of mine: fall of 1995. I was just starting my third year of teaching. We were in the copy room in the morning, and someone came in with the news, and I remember suddenly crying, and being embarrassed to be crying in front of colleagues. He was a 9th grader, shot while riding his bike - not an accident. I remember attending the funeral, and planning things at school to help our students process & grieve.

I don't remember where I was when I heard about the next student of mine who had been shot - it was after the fact so I couldn't attend the funeral, and it was a couple years after she'd moved on from our school, so not too many people were left who remembered her. But I did. She was killed because someone was playing with a gun in the next room and it accidentally went off & shot right through the door of the room she was in.

So this is the third student gun death - that I know of - of my kids. And, shockingly, pathetically, it actually does get easier. Maybe this is how we cope. If it didn't get easier, I guess at some point we would just stop functioning.