Grief is grief. It's always a little backwards when a young person dies, regardless of their age.

We do have some holes in some of our teachers' backgrounds.

We don't teach to the test. We teach a lot more than that. We teach to our standards.

But sometimes, unexpectedly, grief pounded over me in waves that left me gasping; and when the waves washed back, I found myself looking out over a brackish wreck which was illumined in a light so lucid, so heartsick and empty, that I could hardly remember that the world had ever been anything but dead.

I enjoy working with this age group. They want me to come back every year.

When we are sad...it can be comforting to cling to familiar objects, to things that don't change.