I wake in the dark listening to the beginning of commerce passing by our home. We live on a favorite route for many, not a main thoroughfare, but a preferred road for sure. From bed I move to my yoga mat. It’s not typically a vigorous routine, but one that is dictated by Adriene. She is fun and funny, sometimes demanding, but always offering modifications, which I appreciate before I am fully awake. On this morning, the sky lit up with much fire, the sun peeking from beyond the tree tine while the still dark sky glows with hints of pink. Hard not to feel gratitude for such a dawn.

On my drive to school I pass by frosty open fields, cozy homes with a slender ribbon of smoke rising, lights on in busy kitchens, until eventually I cross a bridge over a small lake. In this early light I spy a gaggle of geese, still floating around, not abandoning the north just yet. Mist rises from the river and snow tips the tall pines on the ridge: all cause me to smile. The sky is a solid gray once I arrive at the bustling parking lot. A flag at half mast is as common as the yellow buses coming up the hill. Here, the day officially begins. 

I ask students in my high school classes to think deeply. To navigate through misinformation and disinformation to unearth facts. I ask them to bring their curiosity into our class, this small learning environment I nurture from August to June. I ask students to speak out, to listen, to question. To read more than they watch. All the while we are spinning on this one small planet, war is raging on multiple fronts, causing an avalanche of inaccurate social media posts which have produced their intended effect: more chaos. Our work to find truth lies buried under the smoke and mirrors of lies.

In Maine, once again a man with a weapon has killed innocence, and once again our US politician are saying that guns aren’t to blame. They are quick to point to mental illness, and collect their high NRA rating by doing nothing. They are indeed wrong. It is the guns. 

Perhaps Steven King’s solemn remarks are worth echoing here. “Every mass shooting is a gut punch; with every one, unimaginative people say, “I never thought it could happen here,” but such things can and will happen anywhere and everywhere in this locked-and-loaded country. The guns are available, and the targets are soft” (King).

Finding the light during these dark days is not as simple as gazing out my window, but as another brilliant dawn comes my way, I am grateful.