Exhausted.

Teaching makes me tired sometimes. The commute is physically exhausting. Taking on the unofficial roles of ESL educator, SPED teacher, and wild preteen educator is mentally exhausting. This week, an earth shaking event gave me another role to step up to. Grief counselor. A role I wasn't expecting to take on, hoping to never take on. A student passed away in a very sad, preventable auto-pedestrian accident outside the school. It happened just before school started, a combination of darkness (remind me why they pushed daylight savings time back so late again...) and a bend in the road. He was not in any of my classes, but the two boys who made it across the street in time are. The students were distraught for many reasons-- some of them were close to him. Some of them were hit with the realization that life is fragile. Some were afraid, realizing that they have crossed the street without using crosswalks many times, realizing the risk that they were taking. Some of them were recalling memories of their own loved ones passing away. It was my job to be strong and understanding. It was my job to make sure the kids understood what happened, to prevent rumor. It was hard. It was emotionally exhausting.

Walking into the building the next day felt strange. The atmosphere was filled with an unspoken sadness. I had a hard time pushing out my own memories of loss. Of my grandma, who I looked up to so much, and learned so much from. Of Kevin, the guy from my high school Spanish class, whose life was taken too soon by a car accident. He and his friends were the reason why that class was so fun. The change in atmosphere for that class was so stark, I can only imagine how the loss at my own school now is affecting each of the children who are the classmates of this young boy.

My heart breaks for the family of that boy, for the memories they will not get to make, for his young siblings who will never get to know their big brother in this life. My heart breaks for the two kids who made it across safely. My heart breaks for the students at my school, so torn by this loss.

Here I am, on my day off... exhausted.

[RACHEL]