Crash

So I was running high on my NaNoSuccess as I walked to school this morning. I had my sweater and jacket and Griffindor/USC/Wilson colored scarf on, even though it's not quite finished.

I got to school and started being productive when I hear the announcements. Cryptic announcements on the PA are always bad. Always.

"Teachers, please check your emails. If any teachers or students are in need, the counselors will be available in the counseling center all day."

Somebody died. I go to check my email, and there's nothing there. Great. Go back to work, every few minutes glancing at the monitor for email notification. After about five minutes it pops up and I don't want to read it... but I do.

"Dear Wilson Staff,
Many of you saw the articles in the Press Telegram yesterday and today about a 16 year old girl who died of injuries suffered in a car accident over the holiday weekend. The girl was Kathleen Finucane's daughter, Caitlin.

As details become available, we will let you know. If you wish to send a card, her address is..."

Caitlin was one of the many Caitlin/Katelyn's I had at Rogers. My stomach soured and my mood came crashing down. In a school of 4500, you're bound to lose a couple of people during the year, but this is the first one that has been my student.

We as teachers spend so much time and effort pushing these kids towards their adult life, we seldom get to know how they turn out in the end. We like to think we've made a difference. We like to think that they will all live long productive lives and think back to their childhood with fondness. Something like this stops us in our tracks and makes us reevaluate who we are and what we do and what we teach.

It somehow feels wrong to feel solace in the fact that Caitlin is an exception, that most of our students do grow old and die after us.