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A Moment with Corey

So, you’ve read about Friday night’s graduation ceremony through the eyes of reporters. And you’ve read a small explanation from me.

But you haven’t heard the whole story. If you have a few minutes, I’d love to share it with you.

Wait here, let me grab my Kleenex. Three days later, just thinking about it makes me cry.

When I entered the Unity Temple (where Wright holds its graduation) I was with a friend, and I was shaking. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it through the evening without my Bob there holding me up.

But the moment I turned the corner, I began seeing the familiar faces of my students. Men and women of all ages (that I still think of as my children) whose education was my responsibility… and I had to leave.

Over the last 10 months, I’ve felt as though I’ve betrayed my students. That I left them when they needed me most. I didn’t abandon my sons, but I couldn’t keep teaching at Wright and giving of myself the way I used to.

The teacher that was the confidant, tutor, mentor, and some time disciplinarian had become the one in need. My students began tending to my needs; checking on me, calling me, supporting me. Our relationships had transformed… and I hadn’t seen most of them since Corey’s funeral. Even more hadn’t been seen since before Corey and I left school that Thursday before he was attacked.

How could they ever forgive me for abandoning my post?

I hadn’t even said good bye.

But as I turned that corner and saw my students and fellow staff members, I did not see all of the ill feelings I imagined. No. I saw smiles, tears, and relief from worry.

Everywhere I turned there was another set of open arms. One student tried to hug me as we were on the stairs, and we almost took a tumble.

I met families, kissed grand babies, and saw new hairdos. And after speaking to the media and as many people as I could along the way, I was seated on the aisle the students were going to be walking down.

I heard the “Pomp and Circumstance” as it played, and felt the tears begin to burn my eyes as I stood up. I wished that Corey could be there.

The Class of 2014 began walking down the aisle. I’d had almost every single student in one way or another during my time at Wright. And soon, as each of their smiling faces came closer, my sadness at my own loss became less.

A couple of students that I didn’t recognize passed me first… then the next one stopped the line to hug me.

A couple more passed, then two more stopped the line to hug me.

One student passed, then a few more stopped the line to hug me.

Soon, it seemed as though they were no longer in line to be seated… they were in line to hug me: hug after hug after hug after hug after hug after hug after hug after hug after hug after hug.

It was like watching a dam burst… a dribble at first, then a trickle, then it began to pour.

Each student said something different: from “I made it!” to “I’m so glad to see you!” Each smile and each hug as genuine as…

As genuine as…

As genuine as Corey’s.

My students had given me every hug Corey couldn’t over the last 10 months.

They told me they loved me. They told me they missed me.

Yes, it is beautiful that I got Corey’s Degree. And it is magnificent that Wright donated $2,000 to our foundation.

But what my students gave me can not be assigned a value.

They gave me a moment with Corey.

Gwen Carver

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