Monday, April 16 was a day of pouring rain and high winds. Giant trees crashed to earth, blocking the highways. People struggled to get to work. In Blacksburg, Virginia, a gunman (or perhaps more) slaughtered 31 people over the course of two hours.
I was running a training class, aware only of the weather. As I often do, I had sent myself class material on my Yahoo account, knowing I could pull it up at a moment’s notice. I called up the link and saw the computer’s ‘busy’ signal–the wheel spinning, the screen blank. My heart dropped into my stomach and I felt sick and lightheaded. The last time this had happened was also a training day, but it was more than five years ago on September 11.
As I waited to have my fear confirmed, one of the students read the headline out loud, “Largest mass murder in the U.S. as 20 are shot at Virginia Tech.” Almost immediately the number began to rise. My niece is a senior at Virginia Tech.
Time freeze. What’s the next step? Do I continue teaching, as there is nothing I can do in this moment? I cannot help the dead, I cannot save the injured, so I keep teaching so the living can learn? That doesn’t sound right.
Do I cancel the class so we can mourn this horror, try to grasp and bring some understanding to something beyond understanding? So we can reflect and touch base with family? That sounds emotionally healthy, but histrionic, a little too dramatic when all I want to do right now is know that my niece is OK. From a business sense, the class in front of me paid money to have me complete the teaching. Better to pretend that all is well and keep teaching. That doesn’t sound right either.
What’s the rational thing to do here? What is humane and sane? Keep calm and deliver some learning in the face of horror? Wonder exactly how important class content is when the lives of 30 families are ripped apart? What would you do?
–Quinn McDonald is beginning to wonder about the decision that drove her parents to abandon their countries for a safer, saner home in America. We can do better than this.
Well, in the case of 911, I suppose I could have told the administration “I’m not coming to work because I don’t feel like it…” Instead, I came because I was told that it was “business as usual” . In answer to your question on how I would have handled your circumstance, I THINK I would have informed the class that I was carrying on but to bear with me if I seemed a little disconcerted. I would let them know that I may have to discontinue if the circumstances of the day changed. Now that’s what I SAY I would do— who really knows if that’s actually what I would do.
Anyway, it’s all hindsight now but I hope this has helped us all process this horrific event.
Decisions are so personal, and thus you must follow your intuition and go forth. Quinn,your decision to stay with the class was the right decision for you and probably for your students, too. Perhaps some acknowledgment and a very brief discussion might have helped in the face of another American tragedy. You asked what we would have done, and I’ll be truthful, though others might look down on my solution. I would have done the main highlights of the class, then gone home and hidden in my bed, only getting up once in awhile to check the news, praying it was all a hoax. It’s the same thing I did for 911, and it helped me ‘get through’ that day and the days to come. You’re thinking to yourself I’m being a bit histrionic? Dang shooting, I am.
Bo
To carry on was a brave decision, and right if it was right for you. With love, Fran
My niece is safe–we are all grateful. I do feel there is a great value in remaining calm, and creating an atmosphere in which people can find their way emotionally.
Lori–I’ve also discovered that no matter what I do, I’ll doubt myself. And that may be a good thing.
Deborah–I’ve learned much from you. “Dignity” and “Duty” aren’t words one hears a lot lately.
I did ask if anyone had a relative at VT, and no one did.
Cheshire7–While I normally shun duality, I had to make a basic 2-way decision– release the class or continue. Choosing to continue opened the door to more choices, so I went with that.
What I find so very interesting in all responses is that the original question was “what would YOU do?” and so far, no one has ventured there yet. Harder than we’d like to think, isn’t it?
Dear Quinn,
I don’t believe it has to be an either/or response. (Either ignore-go on with business as usual; or cancel the class.) Yet when such situations and emotions happen it’s hard not to react either/or. Because we are in a state of shock/anxiety about the event. Maybe we can practice a both/and response (similar to shewolfy’s comment) in our everyday life so that when such traumatic things do happen we can respond both/and. I also like the last lines of Deborah’s comment. Less focus on “right” & “wrong”; more emphasis on connecting and compassion.
And Lori, these things will happen again & again until enough Americans get fed up about it and believe they can intervene; regardless of the cost to politicians, lobbyists, the gun/rifle associations, the gun/rifle manufacturers. Yeah, the downside of the freedoms that support “American dreams”, are the American nightmares. Crime, racism, violence, poverty, etc.
Quinn I hope that you have learned that your niece is safe. After 9/11, I received a letter from a financial services firm in New York reassuring me that my account with them was safe and that business was going forward through a difficult time. My first reaction was amazement, quickly followed by gratitude and admiration and I wrote back to the company president to tell him so. The last thing on my mind was my account, yet these people, who were closest to the event, who were dealing with great loss, pulled themselves together to to their jobs–some might say, their duty. I felt humbled. I don’t know that any response after a loss is the “right” one, but any response that connects us to others, that takes us beyond “business as usual” that acknowledges how much we are the same, at least feels like it might be a step in the right direction. Be well.
Sending love to you and all those with families affected in any way by this tragic incident (((hugs))). Awful stuff…
There is no rule book for this; I tried for normalcy and it helped one person; therefore, it ultimately helped me to deal. Quinn responded in the way that seemed reasonable for her. Let’s hope we don’t have to deal with this sort of thing again for a while.
Lori, you are probably right. It is still so very hard though, when your mind it reeling with it all, especially if, like, Quinn, you had a very personal stake in what was going on. The sense of normalcy is important; but sometimes, especially when you are personally connected with a tragedy, you need to stop and acknowlege it and deal with is. Perhaps a short break to discuss what happened would have been appropriate- Quinn might not have been the only one to have a relative there. Talking about things does seem to help the process of dealing with things. Quinn, my heart goes out to you for the fear you felt, and for the way you handled it- the best you could do at the time. Hind sight is always perfect.
Quinn, I know, I know. I felt this on 911. We carried on as usual at work (a university) and at first I thought we were in a collective denial. We needed to be home, with our families– this is what I thought– but then afterwards when a student thanked me for being at work and providing her with a sense of constancy, of normalcy, on a day of insanity, then I realized the wisdom of staying the course– when confronted with unspeakable horror and fear, sometimes continuing with the ordinary is the only thing you can do.