A Teacher’s Grief

No one tells you when you choose to become a teacher that you will outlive some of those young lives whose paths intersect with yours. No one tells you how often you will replay the last time you saw that student’s face or heard his voice. No one tells you how deeply you will regret taking that life’s longevity for granted.

Of course I will see you again. You’re eighteen. You’re fifteen. You’re seven.

A teacher’s grief is a strange emotion. Tonight, upon learning of the death of a young man I worked with over the summer, I am reminded of other students I have known and lost too soon. I was such a small corner of their lives: just another adult to whom they were entrusted for a school year or a summer camp. Still, I can’t help but replay those moments in my mind’s eye and wonder if I did enough or said enough to let these children know I cared about them. Does it matter if I cared and they didn’t know it? Did I do enough to support their vision of the future, or did I miss a warning sign?

Can I afford to care for so many lives walking around in this world when it breaks my heart to know they’ve gone in pain?

Am I doing enough for all the lives who share my world to promote friendship, compassion, and hope?

 

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One thought on “A Teacher’s Grief

  1. One of the saddest things in the world must be to lose a child. You are obviously deeply affected by what happened but I doubt there was little you could have done and I’m sure what you did was as much as was possible at the time (especially as you can’t see into the future). Sometimes, depsite being surrounded by great and loving adults, children will go their own way. There is little anyone can do about this. All we can do is let them know that we are there for them and then let them choose. It’s good to question what you are doing, but I’m sure you are doing the best you can given the time and opportunity. You have an excellent blog btw, cheers.

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