Difficulty expressing feelings, values, in difficult times

Being at school is the best. Until it isn’t. This week it was the worst.

I don’t write about politics. It’s not my thing. There are enough arguments, points and counterpoints found in print, online, and on TV. Controversy is everywhere. Shouting heads and pointing fingers.

I don’t write about current events either. It’s too easy to go down that road and end up writing about politics. Yet, on days like today, I have to write something down. Days when the sun is not shining as bright and clouds hang low. Days when it’s hard to wake up and feel good about life in general. I think it is an obligation to write something about what is happening around us and what will happen to us again.

And still, with thoughts of grief and somehow of continued surprise, words do not easily come to mind. Children are dead. Parents are lost. Teachers are living in fear. These seem like simple thoughts but they don’t make sense. It’s hard to write something down that doesn’t make sense.

Many of you live in a small town. In a community where everyone knows your name. A place where going to the coffee shop is a ritual. You know who you’ll bump into when you are there and that’s part of the reason you go there regularly.

Kids feel the same way about going to school. When you are nine years old, waking up early is…