Aftermath

Tuesday and Wednesday, I was okay. Shocked, a little upset, relieved, grateful.

Today? I've had this low simmering anger that just won't go away.

I don't think it will for a while.

Monday afternoon, one of my students was biking on the rural highway I live on. He trains for triathlons and does this regularly. He's a smart, savvy kid, a very personable kid, one teachers love.

Someone hit him.

We were blessed that despite the fact he wasn't wearing a helmet (although he owns two) and despite being knocked into the air and slammed into the asphalt face-first, he survived with no broken bones.

He survived. We're all thankful for that. I've reminded his upset classmates repeatedly that it's going to be okay, that he's going to be okay, that things could have been so much worse.

But today I woke up angry. Furious. The knot of anger stayed at the back of my neck all day. Now it's pounding at my temples. I'm angry that this kid I like, who is such a good kid, got hurt.

I'm furious that the person who hit him paused long enough to go around him after he'd hit the road and then left the scene.

Left.

How do you do that? How do you strike a human being with your car and drive away? How do you see the results of your actions, however accidental, and leave a child -- yes, a fifteen-year-old child -- bleeding in the road?

I'm so thankful this particular boy will be back in my classroom soon.

I'm very grateful for the teachers from another school who witnessed the accident and stopped to care for him.

But today . . . I'm very angry with the unknown person driving that gray minivan. I think I will be for a very long time.