One of my classmates shared a story with us. I had been watching the news about this incident (wow, that's an understatement--incident!), and then we talked about it in class. The thing I wasn't expecting to hear was that one of the students hiding in back room was our classmate's niece. You can read the story in her own words here.

Reading the story brought me to tears. Instead of scaring me about what's going on in the classroom, the story made me wonder if some kids are slipping through the cracks because I'm not there. Not that I'm all that important, but, well, I don't know. I guess it just really made me miss "my kids." And I really miss feeling as if I'm making a difference.