These past couple of weeks have been incredibly hard on me. On the first day of school, one of my students was hit by a car and passed away. He was someone very special to me, and we had a fun relationship where we would banter and laugh. He had this quiet smile and big dimples, and he seemed to always be causing some sort of unidentifiable trouble. I often would take him out in the hall, as a few girls complained "he's egging me on!" And I would look at him and say, "William! I don't know what you're in trouble for, but I need you to go back in there and look scared." And we both start laughing before putting on our poker faces and returning to the room; his head was usually dramatically hanging from a pretend lecture from me.
He was constantly playing on his phone, so I would take it and hide it around the room. One time I stuck it in my VCR and another time I put it in a box and then taped the box up with several layers. He always laughed at it, and it became "our thing."
The last time I saw him was during summer school. In the morning, I showed up and found him hanging out in the car with his girlfriend; clearly not planning on going. I opened up his car door, took their bag of candy they were munching on, and I literally dragged him by the shirt into the school. I yelled at him, "don't you want the credit??? Only two more days this week! That's it!" I cared so much about him, and I just wanted him to be successful.
Then we went up to my room to do yoga. And as we were all striking warrior pose and other moves, I looked over at him, legs spread, one arm extended, head tilted down in some strange position, and I said, "William are you texting while doing the warrior pose!?!?" And the entire class started laughing! That was my William. Always being a big beautiful pain-in-the-butt. He put his phone away, and we finished. That was the last time I would ever see his smiling face.
After finding out he had passed, my heart broke for his family and friends. I didn't know William as well as I could have, but I still loved him. I can't even imagine the pain and anguish they are going through.
His girlfriend came and spoke to me, and I started sharing funny stories about William, and we laughed together. Then she told me something that both broke my heart and made me happy. A couple of months before William died, she found out she was pregnant(she lost the baby) and when she told William, his reaction was, "What will mrs. Roberts say??" I was always giving them crap about making a baby William, and how I didn't want to see no baby William walking around the school. We would laugh about it, and knowing that he thought of me in that moment, it meant a lot.
(This is a picture of his girlfriend drawing a picture of "her family." I said she could live with me, but William wasn't allowed in her bedroom cause I didn't want any baby Williams.)
His funeral was at a Catholic Church, and it was absolutely beautiful. I told Scott I would love to attend mass one Sunday. I was able to get a "blessing" from the pope, and it was an experience I will never forget. The pope ran the entire funeral by following catholic mass routines, and a Mexican band would play joyful songs in between the prayers. I was asked to read a scripture/prayer, and I'm so thankful that I got to have that experience and do something small for William.
I truly loved that kid, and I am so happy that I got to have him in my life for a few short months. What a gift. I pray for his family that they will find peace over the next months and remember how incredible their child is.
The mood of the school has been different, and I've felt myself feel anxiety each day before school. It just feels different this year, and there has been so much stress happening, that I have been feeling a bit numb.
The third day of school, I listened to my students read their mandatory autobiographies. I took each of my 15 students out into the hall and listened one by one. I listened to stories of rape, domestic violence, drug addiction, cutting, and homelessness. I listened to them and how they have overcome these trials. Each student shared their stories, and each time I just felt incredibly empty.
Then the other day, I had two girls get in a screaming fight inside my classroom. One girl blocked the door, while the other told her to get out of the ****ing way. I was on my way to another classroom. I looked up at them fighting, then casually returned to what I was doing. I collected my books and computer, and then walked across the room and said, "get out of my classroom." They turned and left, and I locked the door and went on my way. No reaction. No emotion. I felt nothing.
Then two hours later, one of my students shows up after 2 weeks and looks like hell. I asked where he's been and if he plans on staying. He says he needs a safe place, and I can see why. "You going through withdrawals?" I asked, and he nodded his head before crawling onto the floor and curling up in a ball. I went and got him a bottle of water to help with the symptoms, and then I went on with my class. Completely numb to the fact that my student is going through heroin withdrawals in my room.
I'm worried about the way I feel; it's completely different than my personality. I don't walk away from things. I'm not a numb person. I'm not someone with a cold heart and thick skin. I cry over stories. I cry for my students and lose sleep over their trials. I come home from school lately, and I just stare off into space. I can't seem to engage into life at all. I told Scott that I'm worried about the way I feel. I don't like it. I don't like being some weird robot. I honestly don't know what to do, and I keep waiting to adjust to work again.
