The Threat

In August I was called and asked to sub for an English teacher that would be retiring. I was told it would be at least 2 weeks but no more than 4 weeks. A whole semester later the school finally found a full time replacement. I should also add that I do not have an English background. I had a lot of ups and downs. I was able to experience some things I never had an opportunity to experience before. I was able to hold conferences, participate in PD days, and be a part of creating curriculum. Perhaps most valuable to me, I was able to be a part of the most wonderful staff I have ever had the privilege to work with.
I also experienced the worst thing I have ever had to experience in my life. I was threatened by a student. The whole thing is still fresh. It happened less than two weeks ago. The assignment was to write a poem about the moon. We had been studying poetry the entire marking period and now it was my students' turn to show me what they had learned. One of my student proudly boasted that his poem was about me dying. On Friday I read the poems and much to my surprise his poem was not about me dying. It was about me being shot at the bowling alley I work at on the weekends. I immediately took it to some of my colleagues to see how I should handle the situation (write-up, zero, both). The head of the department made a copy and gave it to the principal. I was then told that the principal wanted to know what my reaction was to the poem. At that time, I thought the kid was trying to be funny. I sent an email to the principal stating that. I waited and waited and waited for a reply, which would not come until almost the end of the day. I was told by the department head that the student would be pulled out of class and "talked to." Whatever talking to entails.
I was in the class with the kid who wrote the poem when the phone rang. The department head was on the phone. She said, " Karen, there is a situation. I need you to step outside your classroom. Security is waiting for you, but they will be around the corner. Can you go do this right away?" I did as I was told. I closed the door behind me. Silly me, I was worried about leaving the kids unattended. I should have been worried about me. Two security guards asked me about my student that wrote the poem. Then they should me a picture of some graffiti that had been discovered in another wing of the school. I immediately began to tear up, my heart raced, and I started to loose it. They were trying to calm me down as they pointed out the graffiti was another poem. The culprit had disguised the letter "a" with gunshots every time it was used. After school I was looking at the picture of the graffiti, and I noticed that one of the "D's" had a bowling ball in it. This was too much of a coincidence. I immediately went to an assistant administrator. She called the student's mother.
I called my parents from school, and they told me to meet them at the police station. It was closed, but an officer was sent to my house. I filed a police report. They also sent a state police bomb sniffing dog to search my car because when I went out to my car it was unlocked. I distinctly remember locking it in the morning. I was told not to go in to work that weekend. I spent the remainder of my weekend trying to get the events of the day out of my head, and contemplating whether I really wanted to teach or not.