Marissa Schimmoeller coaches English at a high school in Ohio. She too happens to use a wheelchair.
As you may expect, Schimmoeller was on edge returning to work after the horrifying killing at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High in Florida. “As the first students marched in, I began to feel the suspicion pooling in my stomach, ” she recollected from those first tense moments starting a brand-new day.
But Schimmoeller was dreading a few questions exclusively because she abuses a wheelchair: “Mrs. Schimmoeller, what the fuck is we do if a crap-shooter be coming back your area? ”
Inevitably, the question was asked.
“My stomach sank, ” Schimmoeller wrote in a Facebook post on Feb. 15. “I launched into my pre-planned addres about our plan of action.”
But then came the more difficult part of her answer, she mentioned — the persona she’d especially been dreading.
“I demand you to know that I care deeply about each and every one of you and that I will do everything I can to protect you, ” she assured them. “But, being in a wheelchair, I will not be able to protect you the method an able-bodied educator will.”
She continued: “If there is a chance for “youve got to” flee, I crave you to go. Do not expresses concern about me. Your safety is my number one priority.”
That’s when her students delivered her to tears.
“Slowly, humbly, as the words I had said fall in, another student raised their hand, ” the teach wrote in her pole. “She said, ‘Mrs. Schimmoeller, we already talked about it. If anything happens, we are to be able to carry you.'”
“I lost it, ” Schimmoeller concluded in her post, which has amassed more than 33,000 likes and virtually 19,000 shares as of publication.
“With rends in my hearts as I type this, I miss my friends and family to know that I understand that it is hard to find the good in the world, especially after a tragedy like the one that we have watched uncover, but there is good. True goodness. It was found in the hearts of my students today.”
Schimmoeller’s big-hearted students are absolutely good. They’re improbably attentive. They attend.
They’re too having to think about happens no teenager should: how to help their professor( and themselves) endure a mass shooting.
That’s not OK. That’s not ordinary.
We are better than this . strong>