Makeshift Bathroom

I am not one to run into burning buildings 

I never aimed to play the hero

But when the command comes from within

When I’m already inside

I won’t run OUTSIDE the building, either.

I will not shirk my duty to the children in my care.

There’s a huge middle ground between hero and coward

I stand in that gray zone, while blocking the door.

He asked me if we were going to die. 

I told him, “they’ll have to shoot me in the head… 

Before they get to any of you.”

I didn’t even like that kid that much.

Regardless, I was telling him the truth.

I remember the smell of their urine

As we made for them a makeshift bathroom. 

I was relieved that none of them had to shit

Mostly for the sake of their dignity 

But also for me.

I’m not a saint or an angel. I have a frail mortal body.

And I was under enough stress already.

No one died at the school that day.

The alarm was loud; it was also false.

And now I know myself just a little bit better. 

I was tested, and I passed.

But that self-knowledge isn’t worth the specter of death 

That hovers over every American teacher’s head

And falls, in shadow, on American students.