We returned back to school on Monday after the Easter break fired up and excited to face the GCSE and A Level exams.
And while we were exchanging holiday stories, there was a pause and someone in my form asked about another who had been taken unexpectedly ill.
We were all stunned to find out that our beloved friend had died the evening before.
Then the story broke later in the day about the teacher stabbed to death by one of her students.
The contrast between the two events could not be more disparate.
In the hours and days that followed the teacher’s death, flowers, cards and loving memories were publicly displayed, openly sharing grief; understandable bewilderment and disbelief.
Whilst the loss of my student did not take place with such terrible brutality, my form, and colleagues who had known our friend are all nevertheless quietly distraught and privately grieving.
In time there will be a memorial tree, and we will be able to mourn more openly; but for now it seems we carry our grief within.
Whilst I would not want such widespread mourning for our loss, I feel betrayed by the normality around at school, and the insensitivity in refusing to recognise the disappearance of one so beautiful, serene and caring. I see isolated pockets of the demonstration of the love we carry now and for always and am grateful to have known such a wonderful child.
God bless all family and friends.