Scars from the Tornado Read Online Free Page A

the tornado.
    Sabrina R.
wrote about the need for each student to have a laptop. Because of the tornado
and the generosity of a $1 million gift from the United Arab Emirates, Sabrina
and her fellow Joplin High School students all had laptops when they returned
to school for the 2011-2012 school year.
    The last two
papers I put on the Writers’ Wall of Fame did not look like the others. While
the first 18 papers had been stored safely away in folders, the last two were
on the Wall of Fame when the tornado hit.
    At first, I
thought they were too battered and dirt-covered to be on the wall, and then I
realized that was exactly why they had to be there.
    Miranda’s
paper talked about censorship at school, with several words cleverly blacked
out. Sabrina S’s paper was a touching tribute to her friend, Clayton, who had
been killed in a tornado three years earlier.
    As I placed
the final paper on the Wall of Fame, I heard voices in the hallway. Students
and parents were arriving early to receive their first look at our new
facility. One girl raced into my classroom and shouted, “Mr. Turner, I’m in
your class this year!” and proceeded to tell me what she had been doing all
summer.
    It wasn’t long
before the classroom was filled with students, former students, and parents.
The conversations, surprisingly, were not centered on the tornado, but were
about the new educational adventure we would be beginning in six short days.
    The East
Middle School Family Picnic turned out to be a complete success. Carnival-type
games were set up outside, as well as various barbecues and food stands. No one
even blinked when I introduced my band as “Natural Disaster,” though when I
began singing they could quickly ascertain the reason for the name.
    I watched with
amazement the interaction between faculty, parents, and students, especially my
fellow faculty members. I wondered if they, too, had been apprehensive about
returning to school, to this particular building, less than three months after
the tornado.
    Was this a
sign of the East community moving forward, or was it just a sign that we needed
something, anything, to take us away from being tornado victims and get us back
to living again?
    No matter what
the answer, one thing was certain. The value of education to the community had
never been spelled out so clearly. My depression, at least for the moment, had
vanished.
    It was a building
that was destroyed by the tornado; my school was alive and well.
    WELCOMING   THE   TEACHERS
    A
pre-claustrophobia nervousness settled over me as I wheeled my car into a space
in the parking lot at Missouri Southern State University Monday morning, August
15.
    It was the
first day for teachers to report back to work in the Joplin School District and
that meant the annual pep rally. I had never particularly cared for this event.
It was two hours in a small space with all of the hundreds of people who worked
for the school district. Being extremely claustrophobic, I dreaded the pep
rallies and with the added attention drawn to the Joplin Schools after the
tornado, I was dreading this one even more.
    In past years,
the event had traditionally been held in the high school auditorium, but that
high school no longer existed, thanks to the tornado.
    The second I
opened my car door, I could hear shouting,
intermittent applause, and music, punctuated by the pounding of a bass drum.
    At first, I
thought it was an early MSSU band practice, but as I took the crosswalk to the
building where our district meeting was scheduled, the purpose of the noise
became clear.
    The sustained
applause was for teachers returning to work. As someone who has written numerous
times over the past few years about the constant barrage of attacks on public
schoolteachers, this was a pleasant surprise.
    Our community
was showing its appreciation.
    When we
entered the auditorium for the program, we saw Missouri Gov. Jay Nixon standing
in the wings. The rest of the morning was