Yesterday, our campus was on lockdown.

It was not the first time I’ve been on a campus when it was locked down because of the threat of an active shooter.  The last time was before Sandy Hook, when I was still a middle school teacher, and a former student had been seen in the neighborhood with a gun, shutting down both schools on our street.

And then Sandy Hook happened, but before we even knew what had happened, my brother texted me to tell me he was on his way to pick up my nephew, that something had happened at the school, that he’d text me when he got Declan.  And he did text me, because Declan was in 2nd grade, not in 1st grade like my own son Nate, who is only 3 months his junior.

Sandy Hook was nearly 7 years ago.  Our boys are now in 8th & 9th grades.

On lockdown yesterday, I sat quietly scrunched underneath my office desk thinking back to that morning, and thinking about my brother’s community, and thinking about how there’s a hole in the hearts of the families in that community that will be there at every milestone where those children would have been.

I thought about the parents of students on the CSULB campus. My friend, Val, who I run with, texted me right away to see if I was on campus and safe.  She told me her daughter was also on campus.  I have several friends with children who are students on campus and I was much more worried for them than myself.

It is the teacher in me. Even when I am not with students, I am thinking of students and their families.  It is the mother in me, even when they are not my children, my heart is with the parents and children.

I thought about my own children.  I thought about how deeply I loved them.  I thought about how much they still need their mother.

Yesterday, my little girl had asked me, “Mommy, do you sometimes not want to talk about your mommy because it makes you sad that she’s dead?” (Four year olds don’t sugar coat things).

I had responded, “No, Mama, I always want to talk about my mommy, even if it makes me sad because I want you and your brother to know about my mommy, even if she isn’t here with us anymore.”

But what would she remember of me if I hadn’t come home? How could she hold on to me at such a young age?

I posted on Facebook that we were good when we got the all clear, and on Twitter that I was physically safe but emotionally numb. Several people expressed their gladness that I was okay and safe.  When my pastor called to ask how I was doing, I said that I was okay.  I think I may have said that to several people. And, I am okay because what else could I be?

But, what does it mean to be okay?

When my mother died in a car accident, I went back to school the following school day. I was okay.  Of course, I was not okay, but it would take years and many moments for the not okay to surface. At the time, I was okay because I was focused on the goal of getting away from my hometown to college where I thought I might leave the grief behind without ever confronting it.

When my older children were in the midst of serious mental health issues, and as they continue to struggle with health, financial stability, and homelessness now, I was and am okay.  Of course, I am not okay, but I must be okay if I am to support them and the others in my life. So, I focus every day on what has to get done, except for the days when the pain is too much, but most of the time, I’m okay.

When I talk to my students on Thursday about yesterday’s lockdown, I will be okay, because I will focus on being there for them, in the midst of all that is not okay with me. Because, as educators, we are so often called on to be okay in the midst of all that is not okay in the world and my students also need to know what to do when they’re not okay, when it’s not okay, and when they have to be okay for their own students.

So, I am okay.

And I am not okay.

But I will be okay.

And there are moments of okay in the everyday.

It is how I have been surviving for so much of my life.

There is no point to this now rambling blog post except that it makes me think of the oft-quoted (but rarely attributed) quote, “Be kind. For everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”

Be kind today.  And let those you know know how much you love them.