When the unthinkable happens, again and again

I am now a full-time assistant in the kindergarten class that I’ve been in and out of since I started at the international school here. Health needs required the teacher return to the U.S. for a few months, allowing the former assistant to step into her place, and me to step into hers. Sixteen little people greet me every day, and I’m working out how I can help them be ready for first grade.

It had only been a few days of this new routine when I came home and read the terrible news coming out of Connecticut. A massacre at an elementary school? Semi-automatic rifles and a bullet-proof vest used against 5- and 6-year-olds? How unbelievably horrific and nauseating. I was at a loss for words trying to imagine myself in the place of those teachers, protecting my new little charges.

There are a lot of things to talk about: gun control, access to mental health services, the role of the media. Kandahar, Aroura, Wisconsin, Newtown; These massacres are happening more and more frequently–clearly something needs to be done.


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