Teacher Angela Hall always begins her day by gathering her preschool students in a circle in her classroom in Shreveport, Louisiana. Kids laughing. They share. They are searching for the missing person.
“Braylon, he’s not here,” she recalled one of her students telling her Monday.
Braylon Snow, who had just turned five, was one of seven siblings Who were shot dead on Sunday By their father in an attack that also killed their cousin. The shooting rocked classrooms in Shreveport, where teachers like Hall on Monday faced stunned parents and a chaotic mix of emotions.
In Hall’s classroom at Johnnie L. Cochran Head Start, students likely noticed Braylon’s absence right away. Every day, Hall asks her students to look around for friends who aren’t there.
She tells them: “When they come back tomorrow, we can say to them: ‘We missed you, and we are happy to have you back.’”
But Hall wasn’t ready to tell students that the boy she called a “sweet little guy” wouldn’t be coming back. It has kept the circle time movement. She remained numb and heartbroken until noon and then returned home.
“I’m not good with my kids right now because I feel like I need to be in a moment of silence and just pray,” she said.
At Head Start, preparations for next month’s graduation ceremony were in full swing. Hall, an organist and pianist at her local Baptist church, wrote a song for the concert.
Students, wearing hats and gowns to celebrate, were busy learning words, excited about the prospect of starting kindergarten in the fall. Hall was working hard to make sure they were ready.
Just last Thursday, she pulled Braylon’s mother aside during a morning delivery and bragged that Braylon was writing down his first and last name. Braylon also became very independent, spilling pancake syrup on his plate himself. He didn’t even need a reminder to wash his hands.
“Braylon doesn’t give me any problems,” she told his mother.
Braylon Hall — known to her students as “Mrs. Hall” — greeted each day with a small wave.
As the year went on, it prompted more gap-toothed smiles from him. He loved his time on the field – playing catch, tag and even getting involved in “a little scrimmage.” I laughed when I remembered that.
“Most of the time he was a quiet little soul in the classroom,” she said. “When he got a little extra energy or something, it was a joy to see him smile and laugh.”
But then Sunday came. After church, she went to her mother’s house. Then I stumbled upon an article about the shooting.
The death toll was so high that she struggled to comprehend it. Then I learned that Braylon was among the victims. She also knows one of his brothers. He was a major student at the school last year.
“I just broke down and started crying,” she said.
The same thing happened Monday morning at drop off when she locked eyes with a parent. Neither of them could say anything. Preschoolers were all around them.
“I collapsed immediately,” she said. So did the parent and teacher’s assistant.
She relies on her faith now. She prays for the dead, for their families, and for teachers as well.
“And I’m just praying for all the teachers that were connected to these kids because it’s hard because my dad’s kids, they’re my kids. And I treat them like they’re my kids. So I’m just praying that he supports us all through this time.”
“Just give us that strength.”