Monday, October 07, 2002
Heather: Lunch blog for me.
Dale can reach links, so maybe this evening he'll link up to the story. Here goes: there's been yet another shooting in the Washington area. This time, a 13-year-old boy being dropped off at school was the victim. Last I saw, he was critical, so maybe this one will be different from those others. Too soon to know if it was the same gun as the others.
I admit a little bit of callousness toward the other shootings. A grocery store, a gas station... None of those folks were doing anything wrong. This one, at the school, though...
I mean, you hear about robberies at gas stations and grocery stores are open to the general public. Schools, though, are almost as sacrosanct as churches in my mind. It's where there are far more children than adults and should be some of the very safest places in the world. And here we are, a sniper picking off a random child.
What makes that child any different from the ones I have in front of me? The ones I discussed nouns with this morning, and will discuss adjectives and verbs with tomorrow? (side note: I teach French and Spanish and have learned that they sometimes need to learn a little about their mother tongue before learning about another.) What about the ones that got the 10 sentences to translate into French? Maybe one of the kids that will see the end of their movie today will be the next target. Or one of those that will learn how to ask questions this afternoon.
I know, that's what terrorism is supposed to do, immobilize through fear.
There was a cartoon a few years back of a teacher saying, "Good morning, class!" Each student was wearing a T-shirt proclaiming their particular problem: Alcoholic Parents. Worked Until 2AM. Drug User. Divorced Parents. ADD. Sexually Abused. Homeless. I try not to think about that cartoon, knowing statistically I've dealt with all of those problems and not known most of the time. Now, on top of those problems as well as the myriad of others, I get to look at them wondering which might be the target of a sniper.
I really, really, really need to say a Rosary. Or something like that.
Dale can reach links, so maybe this evening he'll link up to the story. Here goes: there's been yet another shooting in the Washington area. This time, a 13-year-old boy being dropped off at school was the victim. Last I saw, he was critical, so maybe this one will be different from those others. Too soon to know if it was the same gun as the others.
I admit a little bit of callousness toward the other shootings. A grocery store, a gas station... None of those folks were doing anything wrong. This one, at the school, though...
I mean, you hear about robberies at gas stations and grocery stores are open to the general public. Schools, though, are almost as sacrosanct as churches in my mind. It's where there are far more children than adults and should be some of the very safest places in the world. And here we are, a sniper picking off a random child.
What makes that child any different from the ones I have in front of me? The ones I discussed nouns with this morning, and will discuss adjectives and verbs with tomorrow? (side note: I teach French and Spanish and have learned that they sometimes need to learn a little about their mother tongue before learning about another.) What about the ones that got the 10 sentences to translate into French? Maybe one of the kids that will see the end of their movie today will be the next target. Or one of those that will learn how to ask questions this afternoon.
I know, that's what terrorism is supposed to do, immobilize through fear.
There was a cartoon a few years back of a teacher saying, "Good morning, class!" Each student was wearing a T-shirt proclaiming their particular problem: Alcoholic Parents. Worked Until 2AM. Drug User. Divorced Parents. ADD. Sexually Abused. Homeless. I try not to think about that cartoon, knowing statistically I've dealt with all of those problems and not known most of the time. Now, on top of those problems as well as the myriad of others, I get to look at them wondering which might be the target of a sniper.
I really, really, really need to say a Rosary. Or something like that.
