Last Friday, my seventh graders diagrammed a sentence. They analyzed poetry in small groups. We took a break to play Zip Zap Zop, and we read a half-dozen pages of the trial scene in To Kill a Mockingbird. I gave them their homework, told them to be safe over the weekend, and said goodbye. But we didnât talk about the Christchurch shooting.
I didnât talk about the shooting because I wasnât sure they knew, and I thought they should have the conversation with their parents. I know Iâd want to address it with my own kid before he talked about it in school.
But this was an act of terrorism, and I should have talked about it.
I didnât talk about the shooting because of some vague idea about not being political in the classroom. Itâs something I struggle with, and I need time to get my thoughts straight before I make any comment about current events.
I didnât talk about the shooting because Iâm the only white face in the room during every class I teach. Because a guy went into a place of worship and murdered fifty people, claiming to represent me. Claiming that he was defending my safety and my interests. I didnât know how to talk about white nationalism without making it about me. But we can handle awkward conversations, and I should have talked about it.
I didnât talk about the shooting because I didnât want to single out my Muslim kids. There are a handful in each class, and I knew that if I brought it up, other kids would be sneaking furtive glances at their hijabs, watching their every move to see if theyâd cry, and I didnât want to put them in an awkward position.
But they were grieving and afraid, and I should have talked about it.
I had no idea what to say to my kids. I canât guarantee their safety. I can tell themâagainâas I do after every school shooting, that I would give my life to protect them without a momentâs hesitation. But I donât go to their mosques, their Ethiopian Orthodox churches, or the Spanish mission near their apartments. I canât protect them everywhere, and theyâre old enough to know it. Once, after the Parkland shooting, a kid asked me if the school windows were made of bulletproof glass. Iâd never so badly wanted to lie.
I canât always protect them, and I wonât lie to them about it. But thatâs the goal of terrorism, right? I mean, besides killing people. Itâs to make everybody else feel afraid and, most of all, powerless. Like thereâs no way to keep ourselves and our children safe, no matter what we do.
I could have done something about the feeling of powerlessness that terrorism inspires.
I should have told them that when the world is dark, they can bring light. That relationships between people not only can change the world, theyâre the only thing that can change it. That building a better society begins at the lunch table and on the soccer field and, yes, in poetry-analysis groups. I donât know that I could have convinced them, but I could have told them.
I should have told them that I was grieving with them and that I saw their fear and sadness and felt the same way. I should have reminded my non-Muslim kids of all the times their communities have been targeted by âwhite nationalistsâ and asked them to show a little extra compassion and support.
Most of all, I should have listened.
I should have just said, âLetâs talk about Christchurch Mosque,â and let my kids have the floor. And I should have done it the second the bell rang to begin class, so my students would know that their pain and anxiety were infinitely more important to me than their ability to find the direct object in a sentence.
I went home and thought about it over the weekend, and we talked about the shooting first thing on Monday. I told my kids everything I wanted them to know, and I gave them a chance to share their feelings. (Honestly, they mostly wanted to talk about YouTubers, which I should have predicted.) But I wish Iâd done it earlier and shown them that they were my top priority. Itâs a mistake I pray I wonât get a do-over onâone I definitely donât want to have to get right next time.
Did you talk with your students about the Christchurch shooting? Come and share your experiences in our WeAreTeachers HELPLINE group on Facebook.Â
Plus, how encouraging students to say something changed my school.