It is Christmas and Christmas, more than any other season, is defined by its stories. The Magi, stories of Light, of stars, of Scrooges, of Grinches. The stories we tell define us too. They explain our position in the world. This season is the season above all when people gather to listen to stories, whether in song or in prose; whether told or read. These stories make me think of our stories. What are the stories of teachers? So many of our stories can never be told or if they can be told, they must be done with care and almost in a whisper.
Most of the students have gone home. Some linger in hallways, wishing each other well and “all the best” and “Merry Christmas” but most have said their goodbyes,“Have a good break sir, Merry Christmas!”
The teacher is packing his bag; he has a dinner with friends planned and the Christmas break runs ahead like a smooth, flat, frozen river. She stops him in the hallway as he is heading to his car. She is crying, sobbing. Her brother has been hearing voices. He’s kicking in the walls. He kicked in the fridge. Her parents are at a loss. He stands and listens and ushers her to the side, near the lockers, so that others in the hall can not hear her.
He calls home, quickly arranges a meeting at the school. Their boys first break with reality happened in grade 10. He started hearing voices that summer. The teacher listens even though the hallways of the school have been empty for hours. The family is too embarrassed to talk about it, too afraid. They don’t know where to turn.
There are calls made. Arrangements come together and quickly, efficiently, the young man is placed into professional care. He is admitted to a hospital and he begins to get the help he needs.
Later, while others are at home, while others are with friends and family, the teacher, struggles with his coat. “I’ll be back soon”, he says as he heads out the door. There is a bag in the car; chocolates, a gift card for Tims, a book. He nods at the nurse as he walks down the corridor, entering the room of a boy who talks to people who are not in the room.
The stories of teachers are not always the stories of pageants and choirs, of decorations and class parties. Most times they are not the stories of dramatic rescues or heroic journeys. They are not the stories of the powerful, of the famous, of the rich.
Our stories are about children, they are about families. Ultimately our stories, some of our most important stories, must remain as quiet as a silent night.
No comments:
Post a Comment