this was no love lockdown

Today I held three students in arms as others rested their heads on my legs. And then there were the ones who didn't want to be held, but simply needed to know that I was nearby. Almost all were crying. Everyone of them was turning to another telling them they were scared.

And I felt completely helpless.

Just before noon today a calm voice came over the loudspeaker to announce that we were on lockdown so to please move all children away from the windows and doors. We've been on a 'lockdown' before - not an official one, but simply the one where the teacher goes and locks their door. I quickly moved students out of sight and opened my door to lock to be informed that we were on an official lockdown and this was serious stuff. I locked my doors, cut off my light and told all students to as quickly and quietly as possible move to the corner of the room. They must have been able to sense the absolute fear in my words as I said this because not one protested. We sat in a dark corner for almost an hour, most of us too scared to say anything. Someone finally came in after about twenty minutes to tell us that there is a dangerous man who is armed possibly in the building and the troopers are here to search and protect us. We were later escorted to a larger room where most of elementary had congregated. At one point, the troopers yelled the guy's name and then blasted into the room, only to scare the children to pieces with their massive weapons and strong voices. They asked if we were safe and then continued on their search.

Thankfully the guy (who I later learned is only 16 or 17, so boy really) was not in the building and we were able to return to our room after about two hours of sitting in a dark, silent room listening to small voices and quiet sobs. I rewarded the children (and embraced my exhaustion) with a movie - something I rarely do - and due to lack of gym, they were beyond antsy. We were dismissed at 3:35 - just five minutes after our usual time, but I felt like it was 9:00. That's how exhausting and stressful spending two quiet hours with 17 eight and nine year olds can be.

I later learned this boy raped someone in a village over a couple days ago and has been on the move ever since. He has threatened to kill any police officer he sees, so the federal troops are here. They had reason to believe he was in the school building, and that is why we were on lockdown. It.was.scary.

Through every tear that landed on my shoulder and every whisper of my name, I realized that I love my children more than words can describe. I have never been so concerned for someone else's safety as I was today. The moment the words were uttered: this is a real lockdown, get your kids into the corner now, my heart dropped and I was scared. I was scared because at that instance I could not guarantee a safe classroom for my kids - we all were in danger. Seventeen sets of eyes peered back at me for guidance and resolution, and all I could offer were back rubs and a "We're in this together" mentality. I was so scared that something, anything, was going to happen to them.

I also felt so helpless. I had no answers. I didn't even know where to begin in consoling them. All I could do was smile and hope for the best. Never have I felt so responsible while also feeling so helpless. All these eyes, and yet there I was.... helpless against an armed man. At one point I even uttered the words, "I don't know. I'm scared too." While I know I should have never said this, I do believe that the kids then understood that we were all in this together, and I would do everything in my power to protect them. For a few hours today, I saw what each child in my classroom was capable of. I saw children step up as leaders. I saw children who never talk to each other in class hold each other and tell them it's going to be alright. For the first time ever, I saw more love than imaginable and little fear in each of their eyes.

I am home now and I hear voices outside my window. I jump. I cringe. I am nervous. The fear has set in and it will take awhile to leave. The honest truth is that if something happens out here to you, you most likely die. There are no hospitals, no doctors or emergency rooms. And this makes me nervous. Nervous for me, nervous for my roommate and friends and nervous for my children and their families. This boy is dangerous and could be anywhere by now. No one knows. Not even the feds.

I have never been so ready to get on a plane and get out of here, but I need to know that each of my kids are safe - and so I stay. I have one more week until I'm in Kotzebue and one week and two days until I'm standing in the airport terminal hugging my family. I am so ready for that moment to come. I'll have my Rainbows packed just for that special occasion.

So here's to loving and living so passionately your heart hurts after a day's work,

Cristina

Update: It's now Friday and he is still on the loose. It turns out that he was actually born in 1984, not 1993, but that's still so young. He could be in any of the three villages, but rumors are flying everywhere. We have school today from 10:00 - 1:30, but barely any kids are here. People don't know where he is - and there's a lot of hostility against the troopers (the feds have flown up from Anchorage to find this guy because he puts a new definition to the word dangerous), so anyone could be harboring him they say.

Since the feds are in town and he has threatened to kill them all, anyone white is especially in danger. Since he is a rapist, my roommate and I are in even more danger. Our principal and assistant principal keep checking in on us and remind us that we're really not allowed to go anywhere within the village. It's not a soothing feeling, but a real one to say the least.

I hope they find this guy soon. I'm out of eight dollar cereal (Honey Bunches of Oats) and need to go to the Post Office.... but I'm pretty sure that everything in town is closed due to these events.

Let's just hope they get this guy and no one gets hurt or killed. He could be anywhere. The tundra is big and vast, and zero degree temperatures at night is not cold to an eskimo.

See! They really are the cutest when they're not being little devil children :) !

(We were doing stuff for Halloween. I haven't taken pictures in awhile....)

The guy supposedly made a direct threat against the school and administrators. How could you hurt these kids?!

should i stay or should i go now?

Dear Lower 48,


I often get asked on what I'm doing next year. I go back and forth about staying out here all the time. Life is hard out here. The kids are a challenge, the conditions are hard, and I often feel like I'm missing out on so much. Already I've missed two weddings and the birth of a best friend's baby. And then there's Restaurants! Friends! Happy hours! Movies! Laughing! Gym! High speed internet! Haircuts! I mean I know I don't need all of these things in my life, but goodness you have no idea how much you appreciate them until they are completely unavailable. 

Friday was a hard day for me. I got chewed out by a mom who said she's going to take me to the schoolboard in hopes of me going down because I didn't let her child go to the bathroom. Seriously. The child asked at 3:15 and I told her she could wait until after school (which was at 3:30). I explained to the mom that we have scheduled bathroom breaks throughout the day and got handed a new one for not letting children go at their own free will. I would much rather let kids just go when they needed, but these children can't handle the freedom of it. We have to take breaks so they have some sort of schedule and continuity in their life or else they would play in the bathroom all day. Everyone's told me not to worry about it, but it's like I work my butt off and this is how I get treated? I get to listen to a mom yell at me for ten minutes because her child decided to run home after school and not use the perfectly suitable restroom right outside our classroom? I know I should expect these things to happen, but I was definitely frustrated. Now I have to document every time this child asks me to go to the bathroom and write down if I let them or not and all this other stuff.... because in my classroom - where the kids can barely read (nine children read at a 16 words per minute or lower) - I should be worrying about documenting bathroom times and not focusing on if they can read the word 'cat' apparently. Thank you student's mom.

So that was my Friday. And I found out that meth has hit our village... and NANA checks come out - the checks for native people. They were $1500 per person this year and most people out here have at least four children (one of my kids has 20 other siblings - seriously - needless to say not all by the same woman who he's married too... but still... 21 kids throughout this tiny village!), so just imagine all the money flowing through here. This means they're going to buy meth and snow-go the 20 miles to Kiana - a village that voted to go 'wet' and be able to sell alcohol in October- and most parents are going to be wasted for days on end. I'm so nervous for all my young ones. But I have a life out here - and friends - and I'm just not sure if I'm ready to leave it all yet. 

The culture out here is to 'drink until you pass out drunk - so many of the high school students see/do this... and the few that do go to college often come back because this mentaility keeps them from being able to excel. It's such a different world here... I just feel like there are so many incredible 'social justice' things I could be doing with my students, but their priorities right now are obviously reading and math.. and I often wonder if my abilities are better suited somewhere else... but then I look around at all the injustices here and I know that right now, at this very moment, I am exactly where I am meant to be. And that's a great feeling, you know?

To know that at this very moment, you are exactly where you're meant to be is an indescribable feeling.. And I know that in two weeks, when I am getting off the plane and hugging my family and friends - that is exactly where I'm meant to be and that I am home.

cheers to finding your place in life, whereever that may be,

Cristina