My kids.
In the past week, events have shaken the small-town school where I teach. It involved fresh-behind-the-wheel aged kids doing things they were too young to do. It involved a flat-line-riddled trip to the hospital for two of my students, all because of something they can now buy in the vape shops that seem to be taking over the area. It was dangerous, it was foolish, and it was scary. When I heard the news, a knot formed in my throat and in my chest. These were students that ask how my day is. These were students that do their work, ask me questions, and look like whipped puppies if I have to get onto them.These were not just kids I deal with as part of my job. These were not just kids from my town. These were my kids. One came back to class today. I was sitting in my chair working on lessons for the next week when I felt two thin and slightly weaker arms around my shoulders. He said "I'm back today!" as he hugged me. Some days I wonder if I am in the righ...