I love who I have been, but I really love who I am becoming -- Dulce Ruby

Where Kids Can Be Kids

As I sit in the staff room, the warm spring sun beaming in through the large windows overlooking the vast fruit orchards in full bloom, I savour the last few moments of my lunch break. Scrolling through my Facebook feed, a headline catches my eye. Another school shooting. Before I can click on the story, the piercing sound of the lunch bell signals the start of my supervision duties. I head out into the busy concourse, bustling with hungry teenagers, rushing to get in line at the canteen, the smell of fresh, hot greasy pepperoni pizza filling the air. Excited laughter and chatter fills the air about prom and all the preparations that go along with it as the senior girls head out the main doors into the bright Okanagan sunshine, headed toward their hair appointments.

I wander through the concourse, taking in every laugh and smile from these students I have come to know so well, stopping to chat and joke with a few of my favourites along the way. I can’t help but notice how care-free everyone is. How safe. I head outside myself, squinting at the brightness as I slide my sunglasses onto my face. As I follow the path I have taken twice a week for the last 5 months, I catch myself smiling as one student runs by me laughing “Miss Smith help me!” as he is being chased down by his friends in an attempt to get the football he has tightly grasped in his hands. As I round the corner to the front of the school, a man approaches and asks for directions to the office. I open the large front doors and point in the direction. As the door closes behind him, that headline pops into my head.

I continue on my way, but my mood has shifted to one of sadness and concern for all these faces I look forward to seeing each day as well as the little 3 year old at home who is so looking forward to going to the “the big school”. The sound of hysterical laughter breaks my train of thought as I look to see a group of teenagers doubled over with laughter at the sight of one their friends doing an impression of one of the teachers. I stop to watch and just savour this moment of pure innocence and joy. I continue along my route with a new appreciation for being able to live and work in a country where our children feel safe to go to school…where our kids can be kids.

1 Comment

  1. Meg Boesch

    This story was so easy to read. You really drew me in with all the imagery. I appreciate that you didn’t just use visual imagery but auditory and olfactory imagery as well. As someone who was in high school not so long ago, I understand the contrast between the upbeat atmosphere of a lunchroom and the harsh reality of the world. Having to practice school lockdowns and then being expected to go back to normal life after that 15mins was always weird for me. As though it was taboo to acknowledge how twisted it is to have to even prepare for such a thing. I like how it is obvious that this story takes place over the course of a short walk from one room to the other and yet it feels like much more happened than just that. Thank you for sharing this story!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

© 2024 Cheryl Bratton

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑