September 11th, 2001. Virginia Tech shooting. The death of Michael Jackson. The death of Kobe Bryant. Oxford High School shooting. All events that I remember exactly where I was, what I was doing, and who I was with when the news broke. All tragedies.
November 30th, 2021
I was driving home from Costco. I crested the hill of the most terribly paved road in our county and my phone dinged. I looked down and it was my brother to our family chat. “Shooter at Oxford High School.” I froze. And then responded, “omg no.” I was stopped at the traffic light to cross the main road and enter our complex. State Trooper. Fire Truck. Ambulance. SWAT Team. All heading towards Oxford. Omg, no. I just kept repeating those words and kind of went into a fog of sorts to finish my short drive home.
I unloaded the car in a trance, called for Jordan to help me carry stuff upstairs and collapsed into him as soon as he met me on the bottom stair. Disbelief. Heartache. Sadness. Fear.
All day, I couldn’t help but think about the students. In that hallway. Fleeing to Meijer (the very Meijer I did my weekly grocery shopping) because running was worth the risk. The students huddled in a corner calling their parents crying or whispering to their teacher for some sort of guidance. How scared they must have been. I thought about the teachers. How surreal it must have been to implement the training they had in the summertime. Or how they put the safety of their students before their own while they prepped the room and hid. I thought about custodians, cafeteria staff, and secretaries who are all vital in helping the day run smoothly, yet usually the last to know what’s happening and why. I thought about the parents who knew what was going on, but couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Waiting, anxiously for any sort of sign that the madness was over. Holding onto a glimmer of hope that their baby was going to be okay. I also thought about MY baby. Living in the neighboring city at the time, meant she went into lockdown as well. Five years old, in an active shooter drill at school. I was sure she was safe, and for the most part clueless, but the worry was still there. All of it makes me nauseous just thinking about it. My heart literally aches for those that experienced it first-hand.
This town has been on every news and media outlet, locally and nationally. Updates on the legal case are always floating around. The publicity part is especially surreal. We have an official recovery plan that was carefully designed with professionals and other districts that are all too familiar. It’s far from over, but everyone is doing what they can to provide comfort amongst the chaos.
I’ve been trying to find the words for a year. I realized this morning, there will never be the “right” words to explain this because it would have to be understood in order to do that. And I’m not sure such a senseless act can ever be understood.
Our first house was in Oxford and we had been looking to buy again for nearly a year when this happened. A few people asked us if this event changed our mind, and with confidence, it did not. What it actually did was reassure us. I know that sounds weird, but it taught us that this type of violence and intense pain can happen anywhere. No one is exempt. No one should be naive. As unfortunate as this sounds, this could have happened (and does happy) anywhere: a shopping mall, grocery store, concert, airport, the list goes on. We must not live in fear.
Even as somewhat of an “outsider” during the recovery, the community blossomed. Those four lives were not lost for nothing and that was evident right away. People offered services, money, time, meals, and so much more in order to grieve, process, and heal. Together. Oxford refused to let evil win.
I used to sub a lot for Oxford schools before I got a permanent teaching gig. I was a classroom teacher for several years and had to report “alarming” signs of students to prevent this very thing from happening. I’ve been an enrollment specialist where I’ve heard these stories. I’ve been an admin where I had to sit in these types of meetings and make an on-the-spot decision for the well being of that student and the student body. I’m also now a parent, where the only thing in the world that matters is my kid.
I felt so distraught, and still do honestly over the entire situation. It’s easy to become overwhelmed, stressed, scared, and want to point fingers or question everything (processes, protocols, people). This is mostly true when we think about our own kiddos. But I know better than to do all that.
And that’s not what the people of Oxford did in the wake of such tragedy. I admire that about this community and I am forever grateful to live here once again.
Today has been deemed Wildcat Remembrance Day. No school. Businesses closed. The whole town pauses and comes together in solidarity. We all lit luminaries at 7pm, had a moment of silence, and 4 strong beams soared through the dark, crisp air to honor the four lives taken far too soon: Hana, Madisyn, Tate, and Justin. Their legacy will live on forever.
I wish I could give my daughter the world and shelter her from it at the same time. She is only six right now, so what we discuss as a family pertaining to this is limited, but we know there will be a day she knows the whole truth. We are raising some strong and loved kids. Even though the road is often messy and complicated, they are worth it.
We will never be done healing. Today, and every day, we will lead with light and love. Because we are #OxfordStrong.
The Rupkey Roost 