Loss in Pixels

The Monotony of a Frigid Winter School Day

Interrupted by a television wheeled into the classroom,

So we could “witness history,”

A promise so profound that it now feels prophetic.

Anticipation ignited within us,

Fueled by teachers more excited than we,

To see one of their own, just a regular person,

Reach for the heavens and touch the sky.

I don’t recall the countdown,

But the liftoff is etched in my memory.

We watched the plumes separate,

Streaking boldly in every direction.

The same adults who seemed so confident,

Masters of their day-to-day wisdom,

Turned off the television and wheeled it away,

Silently, without a word.

A lingering suspicion of something wrong,

As we tried to reclaim normalcy.

Teachers were shaken, some in tears,

Witnessing one of their own fall like Icarus.

They wouldn’t speak of what we had seen,

An unspoken information blackout.

Their silence conveyed all we needed to know—

Even children can glean wisdom from omission.

I carried my imposed ignorance home,

Not fully grasping the weight of it all,

Until I saw my mother, a teacher herself,

Crying as well.

From Lee Harvey Oswald to 9/11,

These memories shape generations,

Tragedy delivered to children,

Deaths flickering on a small screen,

As they step toward understanding.

In Memory of the Crew of The Space Shuttle Challenger:

Dick Scobee, Commander

Michael J. Smith, Pilot

Ronald McNair, Mission Specialist

Ellison Onizuka, Mission Specialist

Judith Resnik, Mission Specialist

Gregory Jarvis, Payload Specialist

Christa McAuliffe, Payload Specialist, Teacher