We had a meeting today about what to do if an active shooter comes into our classroom. No, not with the school board, I was instructed by the vice principal of our school to hold a meeting with the students. 12 year old students. I teach a class of 23 on average, 8 showed up today (in total, for all 4 periods of my class, as in I taught my morning class with only 2 students in it) after the Uvalde shooting. I spent period after period instructing no more than 3 children at a time what to do if someone comes to end their lives, how some children only survive if they hide under another dead child, or wipe the blood of deceased children on their bodies. The children were silent, scared, and one of them passed out. It's a week before Summer Vacation starts, but no one is excited, no one is happy. I decided by my last period that fuck it, these kids don't need to be taught anymore about death right now. I let them fuck around on their phones and eat the last of the candy from my special drawer. I only teach 4 classes, all 50 minutes long. I teach one at 8:30, one at 10, one at 11 and my last one is at 1. Then I spend the rest of my time grading.
I have seen a lot of shit in my 5 years of teaching, including a kid who took a poop in his own locker. But this broke me. I can't do it anymore. After my last period class I told the principal I wasn't coming back. It isn't worth 17/hr. It isn't worth health insurance that only pays after I pay 10,000 dollars, it isn't worth getting attached to these children to see them die. And yeah sure, it probably won't happen to me or my class, but I'm sure the teachers in Uvalde thought the same thing.
I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry.