This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
These past few weeks have been tumultuous for our nation. The shootings in Orlando and Dallas, senseless violence and the vitriol resulting from racial divides all threaten to tear us apart. In our local communities, we also have experienced an excessive amount of tragedy and death.
A few days ago, I attended the funeral of two Midvale teenagers who were shot and killed. I did not know them personally, for when they were students at Midvale Middle School, I was not the principal. However, many members of my staff knew them and taught several of their siblings over the years.
I attended this funeral because this event has had a heart-wrenching effect on the community and students I serve. No child should have to experience the trauma resulting from hate and murder, but unfortunately, this is a real part of the lives of many young people across our country. How do I even comprehend the pain experienced by these youth, many of whom were inconsolable? How do I help them recover from this intense affliction, and how do I help them know that we would do anything to eradicate their pain, their sorrow and their hurt?
After the funeral, I felt paralyzed — paralyzed because I feared that no matter how much we did, we could not possibly help all of these students and their families heal. I felt paralyzed because we desire to fix all the poverty and injustice that surrounds us, but we feel inadequate and ill-prepared to do so.
But after allowing some time to pass, I realized that although we cannot fix or prevent all of the tragedy and sadness, we can make a difference. As educators and community members, we can seek out and secure resources for our students and their families. We can advocate fiercely for what they need. We can refuse to give up when others claim, "It can't be done." We can build better relationships with one another and let each other know how deeply we care. In the face of all the tribulation nationwide, we can come together to bring about more good right here—where we work and where we live. We are strong enough and smart enough, and there are many of us who share this desire to be a force for good.
Even in the face of poverty, injustice and violence, education can be the great equalizer. We can create a safe place for our students to learn, and we can maximize opportunities so that our kids will have many choices to pursue their dreams. I know it seems a lofty goal, but it is a worthy goal that must be relentlessly pursued, even if it is just one day at a time.
Not every day will bring miracles or success, but over time, small victories will emerge, especially when you are surrounded by many who will do anything and everything to keep hope alive. Hope, after all, is what makes the human race unique.
Our children — no matter where they were born, the language they speak, their gender, the amount of money their parents earn, or whom they choose to love — are worth every bit of energy that it takes to help them find happiness, peace and success. A dear friend of mine reminded me of a quote by Mary Anne Radmacher: "Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'"
Well, it's tomorrow. It's time for us to try again.
Wendy J. Dau, M.Ed., is principal of Midvale Middle School and a Draper resident.