Words, Hands, Hearts

Thursday, passing period before Advisory. One of my freshman advisory students is cupping his cell phone to his ear, struggling to hear, speak, breathe, do anything. I almost tell him to get off his phone and get to class, but I let it pass. He's usually very loud, rambunctious, and ANNOYING.. typical 14 year old freshman boy. There's a difference in his demeanor that slowly creeps into my awareness as he finally comes through my door.

"Ms. Chew, can I have a pass to the office? I need to go home. Something happened, I need to go home."

I nod silently as I move to my desk to write him a pass. His friend comes over and asks what's wrong. I can barely make out their conversation.

"What happened? Oh my gosh, when?"
".. just barely today. I need to go home, I really don't feel like being here anymore."

I finish writing his pass and as I hand it to him, I quietly ask, "Are you alright? Is everything ok?"

He leaves without saying a word. Once he's gone, I pull his friend aside and ask him what happened.

"His brother just died."

I run across the hall to my coworker to tell her what I heard.

"Oh no.. that's why he was so upset this morning," she says. "He had his head down on the table and was crying. He wouldn't tell me what was wrong and didn't want to get sent down to Wellness."

I grab his counselor when I see her in the hall. She has someone call home and finds out that his brother was 23 years old. He died of a heart attack at home barely an hour after his mother had left for work.

I can't say that I know my student very well, he's only in my advisory period so I only see him once a week. But I didn't need to know him to read the grief and anguish on his face. Of course he didn't want to be in school anymore.

For a minute there I thought I had lost touch of the heartache and heart break that comes with working with my kids. Then it all came rushing back to me, a bittersweet, familiar sense of helplessness and hopelessness that reminds me.. I'm alive.