I recently read a very sad blog post written by notswallowedinthesea.
I never imagined this could happen to me… Especially so early on in my teaching career!
But yesterday, first day of Term 4, and in all my excitement, I went back to the school where I teach music part time, excited to see my students and teaching them all the great things I have planned for them – only to be whisked into the staffroom and briefed by social workers on “how to deal with a death in school.” I looked around confused before the assistant principal came up to me and whispered in my ear that one of our prep kids was hit by a truck during the holidays in front of his mum and older sister (who is in Grade 2).
The AP told me the name of the student but it went past my head. I asked for the name again but it didn’t ring a bell. AP tried to describe him: “little blonde one”. There are so many “little blonde ones”. Which one? When I realized I did not recognize the name I sighed in relief, but only for a second. Because then I shuddered at the thought of not knowing the student. How on earth could I NOT know? I kicked myself for not learning the names of all my students soon enough. I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and couldn’t wait to break away from the staff room to locate the class list and photo so I can put a face to the name of the student. I have 14 music classes and about 20-28 in each class, so yes, I still don’t know the names of all the students! As the social worker was briefing us, I went through the faces of all my prep kids, trying in vain to remember Rex. Rex, the name is very familiar but I couldn’t put a face to it!
When the briefing was over, I spoke to the school counselor who gave me a bit more details about the accident, and pointed to me a picture of Rex. There he was, the little blonde one. Immediately I knew who he was! He was in my Top 5 students in the final class before the holidays! Sweet smiling Rex. Suddenly the memories overwhelmed me and I felt everything from grief to guilt. Grief because I had lost a student through the worst circumstance, and grief because I wished we could have spent more time together – or that I would have remembered him! It pains me that I couldn’t remember him in the first instant! Why didn’t God give us more time together? Why was he taken away so suddenly? Why hadn’t I paid more attention to him? Why couldn’t I remember him?!
It was awful. I wanted to cry but I couldn’t because my first class came in. I tried my best to hide my tears and answered questions about Rex as honest as I could without breaking down. I had never been in such a situation before, and I found it extremely difficult replying to students who have questions such as : “Why did it happen?” and “Where is he now?”
I know for a fact, because of my faith, that God is taking care of him, that things happen for a reason and that God is in control. But I cannot say this to my kids as I am not teaching in a Catholic school and I don’t want to cross any lines or upset any parents. How can I answer questions like these? I ended up avoiding them as much as I could!
The last class yesterday was Rex’s class, and I knew the moment the students came in that they were itching to tell me about Rex, about why he wasn’t in class and why he was never going to come back. But I went straight into my lesson, avoiding any questions, claiming I do not have time and that we had a lot to get through.
I had a lot to get through… a lot of emotions to get through. At lunch time I stumbled across Rex’s music book, I noticed his work for the first time. 2 weeks ago it was just a book belonging to one of the preps, just a book among the statistics, with scribbly drawings and terrible colouring techniques. Now, it is the precious work of a child no longer here on earth, and the horrifying truth that the child has had only 5 years in this world… not enough to learn how to colour in the lines, not enough to learn to write his name properly… not enough! Not enough!
I don’t know if I am angry. I am definitely not bitter. I know these things happen, and tragedies occur throughout the world. Who am I to complain and pound heaven for an answer? But the fact that it happened, TO ME, at this time has made me realize immensely how precious life is, how precious teaching is, and how fragile we human beings are.
While singing with the Preps yesterday I found myself staring into each student’s eyes, trying to take in as much of them as possible, drinking in their personalities and hoping that they will all come back again next week. I do not want anyone else to leave! I do not want any of them to get hurt!
But I cannot save them all… and I did not save Rex. Rex is gone. My class of 21 preps is now down to 20. He was hit by a truck, and died at the scene. Rex, who only 2 weeks ago I had given a piece of chocolate cake for making it into the Top 5 because he sat patiently for his book while others were shouting for it. Little blonde Rex.
I find myself looking towards the right everytime I pass his classroom to go to the staffroom or toilets. I keep looking because I still see his photo in the class wall, on the class door, on his table, his book shelf, his bag shelf, his music book…
I am only in my first year of teaching, and already I have had to deal with a student’s death. I wonder how much more will come? How much more can I take?
I was wondering if you have experienced something similar? If so, what advice do you have for this teacher to help her get through this emotionally traumatic experience.
Topical Teaching 