I cried at work yesterday

And not for any of the old reasons. I understood everything that was going on. Nobody had unintentionally insulted me. I was simply scared.

In fourth lesson I was having my third graders create personal calendars, writing and illustrating a holiday or special event next to each month in the year (which were further divided into seasons). It was a fun little craft project that tricked them into doing a lot of writing. Anyway, I was in the back of the classroom looking over Zsombor's work when I heard a crash from the front.

I spun around in enough time to see Jazmin's head, presumably bouncing off the desk behind her, crash into the lip of her chair. Jazmin didn't move for a few seconds, though it seemed like minutes, and a few students, cruel in the way that children can be, started laughing, tickled at the idea that one of their peers had finally rocked their chair onto the ground as I always warned them they would. In the second it took me to get the front of the room, Jazmin still hadn't moved, holding onto the chair. When I got there, she looked up at me and started to cry, and I breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't seriously injured. The crying, though, moved her chin from the chair.

And the blood poured.

I guess, in retrospect, that I helped her up from the floor, pushed a tissue to her chin, and clapped her hand over the cut. I guess, in retrospect, that I grabbed another (reliable student), wrapped her hand around Jazmin's tilted back head, and told them in Hungarian to go quickly to the school doctor. I guess that some of the students went and fetched the mop from the corner, and we cleaned the mess of the classroom. Then I wiped off my hands and taught the rest of the lesson, because what else could I really do?

The next thing I clearly remember, though, is walking into the staff room after the lesson ended and I could leave. I washed my hands calmly, and then just started shaking. And I cried. Nora gave me some grape sugar so I wouldn't feel so faint, and I shook some more and ate two. Then I wiped off my face and went to teach the next lesson.

It turns out that Jazmin is fine, of course. Kids are made of rubber and have a remarkable ability to bounce. She missed the day today, but came in at the end to get her books, showing her classmates her stitches like a proud war veteran. Of course the kids were back to rocking in their chairs again.

But that moment when she was so still, and the moment when blood just poured from her face? I didn't even know what to do. Responsibility, especially for tiny little souls that I just genuinely care for, can be such a heavy thing. I realized yesterday, in a way that I hadn't really yet done so, that I'm an adult now. It was big and scary. I'm still a bit shaken about the whole thing.