Reclaiming Experience

This blog is a tool for recording my experiences as well as evaluating my day-to-day life. With my camera in hand, I will make meaning out of my life.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Day 45: Unexpected Moments and Forward, Together Forward

Although I felt the worse I've ever felt at school, I am glad that I went into work.  One of my first surprises from a student was an octopus tissue dispenser.  We are currently studying the ocean and she saw it and said that I had to have it.  I also got a rose from one of my sweet girls, a monkey valentine (cause they know I love monkeys and gorillas) a handmade pen, many chocolates, and cards.  We have such a sweet group this year.  I felt so bad that they got me gifts and I didn't bring them anything.  I ran out during my plan to Walgreens to pick up some candies (and medicine), but soon realized they don't open till 8.  I suppose I am giving them a greater gift than candy: knowledge.

I'm usually not a big fan of Valentine's Day, but this has been a pretty good one.  Four years ago today was the worst Valentine's Day.  This is the day that the shooter killed five students at NIU.  I felt that my world was completely changed and no place was safe.  As most of us move on, I try to imagine what the families must still be going through.  They left way before it was their turn, and yet, for some reason it was their turn.

During my online writing class I had to complete a hometown piece in 500 words or less.  I thought I'd share it today.  It is a story that cannot be told in less than 500 words, but it sheds a little insight on the day from my perspective.

Forward, Together Forward

I became most connected to my hometown the day that tragedy united us.  It was Valentine's Day and I was at work. It didn't seem to be so bad; at least I was around people.

I was bonded with the eighth graders, but there was a shortage with the sixth grade students, so I moved to that room for the day.  I did not know the kids or the supervising teacher.  While the teacher was sitting at her desk working on her computer, I was wandering from student to student to help during homework time.  Math seemed to be the challenge of the day.

Another sixth grade teacher walked in and whispered to us, "turn on the radio, something bad is happening."

We turned on the radio just loud enough that we could hear it, but the students could not.  There was news that there was gunfire heard at the NIU campus.  We checked the website to see if there was more information.  The alert confirmed our fears. "3:20 p.m. There has been a report of a possible gunman on campus.  Get to a safe area and take precautions until given the all clear."

I had friends on campus so I tried to text them to see if they were okay, but nothing would go through.  DeKalb had never experienced this volume of cell phone network usage.

With uneasy staff, the teachers decided to let the assistants go.  As I left, I tried calling anyone that I could think of, but the calls would not make it through.  I became dependent on the radio to find out more. 

"The shooter is dead from self-inflicted gunshot."

"Students, call your parents when you have reached your residence halls." 

The helicopters flying overhead competed with the sound of the radio.  Some were media, and some were transporting the victims to the hospital. 

When I got home I found my parents in a trance, glaring at the TV.  As time passed, more details were shared, but the news never got any better. Five students were murdered.  Each individual with their own story.

I did everything I could to reach closure.  This kid came into my hometown, at my school, and killed people that had no affiliation with him.  My community came together for candlelight vigils, services, and ribbon making.  I don't think anyone had been so proud to be a Huskie.

A week later, it was time to return to school, and the feeling of safety did not return.  I trekked across campus, passing the building where the lives were taken.  I saw footprints in the snow and I remembered the images on the news of blood in the snow a week earlier.  When I reached my building I was greeted with a man and woman.  The man shook my hand.  The warmth of his hand welcomed my cold bare hands. They offered me a bottle of water and asked how I was doing.  All that week counselors came into our classes asking if we wanted to talk about what happened, but we never wanted to talk.

"Forward, Together Forward " were the words expressed so many times.  Each Valentine's day I wear my ribbon.  February 14th has no other meaning to me anymore.  It should be a time to celebrate love, but how can one do that on such a date?

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