...and then there are those that broke my heart.
One student, upon the death of a beloved aunt has become agnostic, he now hates God (although, I told him that technically, he isn't an agnostic, "just" angry at God...which is, in light of the situation, a little comforting, because I know that there is hope for him yet). He blames God for taking away his aunt far too soon.
One student, knows that he is capable of great things (he is) but is burdened by an overwhelming sense of ennui (my word, not his, haha...) and he feels trapped.
One student, hates himself. His mother was supposed to pick him up from school one day and was gunned down. A case of mistaken identity. He blames himself.
One student, saw his father die from a heart attack in front of his very eyes. He is struggling with the grieving process and he resorts to hurting himself instead of burdening his mother with his grief.
I have a (not so) baby (anymore) brother who is the same age as my students, and I can't help but wonder if he, too, goes through bouts of self-hate. I offer a silent prayer of thanks that he is safe, that our parents are still around, and that he is, amazingly, a really good person through and through. And then I think about who I was when I was 15/16 and I shudder. Ugh. Thank God my parents stuck by me.
It is times like this that I feel so utterly useless - and yet I am inexplicably happy that I am where I am. What platitudes can I offer? What could I possibly do to make things better? (And from an icky teacher standpoint - how could I possibly be objective enough to give him a proper grade?) But I am happy that I am here where I can make a difference, no matter how minuscule.
For those of you who can, go stop doing whatever it is that you are doing and hug your parents. Hug your loved ones. Let them know they are loved. And pray for my kids. Pray that they find what God has in store for them.
*Sigh*
And now we go back to reality in 5, 4, 3...
