Soooo I’ve cried every day starting Monday. No, it’s not because I’m overly sensitive; unfortunately, I received an e-mail late on Monday telling me that, while at a daycare event, the three year old sibling of two of my students collapsed and died. With a young child of my own, this one hits a little too close to home. Death is one of those topics that I struggle discussing with students. Within the close-knit communities of the schools where I work, it’s not just the family who struggles to cope with the loss; the classmates, friends, and teachers of these families struggle, too. Inaction on the part of a counselor is just not an option. We must do something, but what?
A number of years back when I was still a middle school teacher, a teammate and friend of mine committed suicide. I was in my final year of graduate school to obtain my counseling degree, and I had been interviewing for counseling positions in the weeks prior. I was trying to sell myself to people, insisting that I was ready for this job, but when I got the phone call telling me about my friend, I crumbled. I spent the next few weeks of the school year in a complete daze. I had no idea how to support myself, let alone support the hundreds of current and former students who loved this person. What I saw happen over the following days stuck with me.
Paper…foot after foot of butcher paper… That was the magic item for many of the students. Hundreds of hurting students, markers in hand, wrote words of encouragement, shared memories, and various expressions of love for their teacher and his family. Each day, more of these murals were added to the wall, and little by little, I watched the mood of the students change. The simple act of committing those thoughts to a piece of butcher paper began to free them from the pain they were experiencing.
A few years later, a second grader and fourth grader lost their mother very suddenly and unexpectedly. Their classmates were very worried about them and wanted to do anything they could to support the girls. I immediately thought of my experience a few years prior and got to work on a “Caring Quilt.” I created a very simple paper template on which kids and staff could offer their condolences and words of encouragement. Many also drew pictures or decorated their quilt square. Once I collected all the squares, I put them on a piece of butcher paper. Each girl got a paper quilt created by their peers and adults who cared about them. I received very positive feedback from all parties involved, the girls included.
Yes, a paper quilt is a very simple thing to do, but the expression of emotions was what the kids and staff needed to do at that moment. I think sometimes we get too focused on doing something huge and forget the power of just letting someone know we’re thinking of them.
A number of years back when I was still a middle school teacher, a teammate and friend of mine committed suicide. I was in my final year of graduate school to obtain my counseling degree, and I had been interviewing for counseling positions in the weeks prior. I was trying to sell myself to people, insisting that I was ready for this job, but when I got the phone call telling me about my friend, I crumbled. I spent the next few weeks of the school year in a complete daze. I had no idea how to support myself, let alone support the hundreds of current and former students who loved this person. What I saw happen over the following days stuck with me.
Paper…foot after foot of butcher paper… That was the magic item for many of the students. Hundreds of hurting students, markers in hand, wrote words of encouragement, shared memories, and various expressions of love for their teacher and his family. Each day, more of these murals were added to the wall, and little by little, I watched the mood of the students change. The simple act of committing those thoughts to a piece of butcher paper began to free them from the pain they were experiencing.
A few years later, a second grader and fourth grader lost their mother very suddenly and unexpectedly. Their classmates were very worried about them and wanted to do anything they could to support the girls. I immediately thought of my experience a few years prior and got to work on a “Caring Quilt.” I created a very simple paper template on which kids and staff could offer their condolences and words of encouragement. Many also drew pictures or decorated their quilt square. Once I collected all the squares, I put them on a piece of butcher paper. Each girl got a paper quilt created by their peers and adults who cared about them. I received very positive feedback from all parties involved, the girls included.
Yes, a paper quilt is a very simple thing to do, but the expression of emotions was what the kids and staff needed to do at that moment. I think sometimes we get too focused on doing something huge and forget the power of just letting someone know we’re thinking of them.