I have never known anything like I know a classroom, or a white board, or the colorful doorways leading into each one of my favorite classes. I’ve spent more time in a classroom than I can remember: as a student, an intern, a substitute teacher, a paraprofessional, and a future educator. School became my home, a place where my sisters couldn’t harrass me or my mom couldn’t comment on my looks. It became a place where I felt important, and a place where I realized I wanted to make others feel important, special, and powerful.
I used to walk the halls of each school I entered with ease, knowing each member of this community was here for the same reason: to better themselves and others. Schools are full of wonder and excitement, as knowledge is the only superpower humans obtain (that we know of). School is a place to feel safe, to express ourselves to walk the halls and feel the knowledge of others surging around ya.
No longer can I walk those halls with the same comfort I had before April 30, 2019. I now tremble when I step foot in a classroom, wondering when it will happen again, feeling like it will happen again. I’m no longer happy and excited as I used to be when I entered each school, now I am filled with sadness and anger.
I’m angry at the boy who took this happiness from me, the boy who will never realize the unspeakable doom he has placed on my once happy space. I am saddened at the future he has destroyed for me and not only me but the potential I had to make others feel good about themselves. The greatness I was going to instill in my students.
I am angry at you and I am not sure I will ever be the same because of what you did.