This morning I toured an elementary/middle school -- thinking ahead for potential middle school options. The mission statement of the school centers around creating and sustaining a nurturing community. That's a good mission statement. I was impressed by the different ways it was implemented -- kids allowed to flop on the rug, or sit up in a chair; sweet notes written by the teachers...
I was surprised and concerned with how a significant amount of people -- parents, volunteers, etc. moved freely throughout the enormous facility. How vulnerable the kids looked walking by themselves. How casual the security guards seemed. At 10:30am I texted my friend about the tour:
"Love the philosophy. Hate the lack of safety."
My instincts after visiting the school were fibers -- warm, damp webs -- cocoon-like, organic, and visceral. I wanted to draw my children close. I wondered if the words in my text were going to stand as not just my position on that school, but my feelings towards school in general now that I've had them home with me everyday. I wondered if being away from the school environment had messed me up.
My feelings two hours later after hearing about the tragedy at a Connecticut elementary school were like little humming wires charged with static electricity. Nothing organic -- certainly nothing that could grow a plan or instigate purposeful action -- just shock. Like every other parent today, it messed me up.
How can we teach them how to be nurturing members of a community if there are no safe places to teach them? And if we don't teach them -- how safe can our communities be?
"Where there is sorrow, there is holy ground." Oscar Wilde.
