Damn, damn, damn…poor Miss Dasaro. No further advice, I think Shirley and Kalhoun have covered it. But good luck, Pochacco, to you and your daughter.
Why can’t you just say that her teacher didn’t go anywhere, that she’s gone. If she asks about heaven… tell her that a lot of people believe a lot of strange things.
Not that I necessarily believe any of these things… it’s just that the OP specifically asked for secular responses.
When my daughter’s preschool teacher just up and left (but didn’t die)–my daughter kept asking me if she had been bad in class and made Mrs F go away.
Now, Kindergarten isn’t pre-school, and this teacher is now dead–but my point is that kids tend to be somewhat self focussed and she may wonder if this is linked to her in some way.
How horrible for the teacher–and I second whoever upthread who said that these people should damage/kill themselves first and then go on to others…
And I would keep her home, as well–who needs Joe Reporter milking the tragedy at the expense of the kids (and this teacher’s memory).
As for God–I see no reason to disrespect other’s beliefs to bolster your lack (not that you were going to)–what is wrong with saying that while to you there is no heaven, others believe there is? That is reality–some believe and some don’t. Telling a kid s/he can’t believe is as bad as telling them that they must believe, IMO.
Good luck.
I agree with the secular approach. Your child is going to be bombarded over this with a ton of religious twaddle by the other kids, teachers, etc. Keeping her grounded in realism will be the best thing for her.
Do you even have to tell her it was a murder? She’s so young. How about “a terrible thing happened and your teacher is dead”. OK, that’s going to raise questions but maybe not. I guess she will hear a lot from the other kids, adults etc. but maybe if you leave discussion open ended you can follow her lead and figure out exactly what she needs from you instead of assuming or guessing her reaction.
When my grandfather died when I was in kindergarten the most confusing thing for me was that everyone expected me to have a big reaction to it. I didn’t but I remember feeling guilty and confused that I wasn’t crying and sad like the rest of the family. I simply didn’t know my grandfather all that well and didn’t feel all that connected to him.
Good luck. In the long run this will only be a bump in the road for a 5 year old.
What he said. If you try to explain your beliefs to her, the concept that her teacher is simply “gone” would be terrifying to her, IMO. She would remember it and apply it to every other instance of death she experienced - and that’s not good, because it makes the idea of death a very scary thing for a child indeed.
That’s kind of how I see it as well.
I certainly intended no disrespect for the OP’s atheism. I offered my opinion only because we do not live in a world that is uniformly secular, and that fact may cause questions to arise.
And calling other people’s beliefs strange, Who_me?, isn’t the way to go here. Those are her friends and classmatres, and she ought to understand and respect their beliefs, even if she does not share them, much as they ought to show the same respect and tolerance toward whatever beliefs she holds.
I grew up in an agnostic/atheist/apatheist household. As a kid, I totally believed in heaven and god (in a big man in the sky with a white beard that doesn’t let bad things happen to you kind of a way). Mr. Moto’s suggestion is totally valid.
If the kid seems upset that her teacher didn’t go to heaven, what’s wrong with telling her that she might have? My mom often told me “I don’t know” about stuff like this as a kid.
Of course, your kid might also say “oh, okay, so we get a new teacher?” and be done with it. My grandfather died when I was 5 and my biggest question was whether or not he was wearing pants and shoes in the casket. Who knows how the brains of little ones process things?
I dunno. I prefer “dead” to “gone”. No sense in sugarcoating it. Death doesn’t have to be scary in and of itself. The manner in which the teacher and the perp died is the tough part.
It appears I read your post a little sideways and that we are in agreement here. D’oh!
My niece was 5 when my mom died. We explained the ashes in the urn thing and that gram was in the urn now. She asked if she could look, and we let her. She peered in and looked up and asked me, “Where’s her nose?”
Out of the mouths of babes…
I’m honestly not sure that keeping her home is the best idea; I understand the desire to avoid the media frenzy, however, those in charge at the school should be quite capable of insulating the kids from insensitive or irresponsible reporters.
Sharing the grief and loss from the first moment can be quite important; it’s entirely possible (although hard to judge from here) that the child will feel that she has missed an important part of the bonding that can arise out of these sorts of things, if she isn’t there when everybody else has the news officially broken to them.
I agree. I’ve never seen a reporter capitalize on a sobbing kid. Parents, maybe…
Kids are tougher than their parents sometimes give them credit for. Even the sensitive ones. They’ll get over it.
If one were to be truly even-handed beliefs-wise, you’d also have to offer the child the Karma-centric option of “the teacher deserved it”.
Keeping her home for a couple of days is an excellent idea. The media situation is bound to be a mess and, at her age, being with her parents is going to benefit her more than being with classmates and counselors, at least right at first.
Tell her the truth, using words and concepts she can understand. I can’t improve on Shirley’s model. I wish you could skip over the exact details – the stabbing-her-and-then-setting-himself-on-fire stuff – because that’s definately nightmare material. But I think you’ll have to tell her all of it. You have no control over what her classmates will be told. And, if even one of them gets the gory details, they will definately be spread among them all – possibly in exaggerated form. Better that you give her the whole story, when you’re right there to help her cope with it.
Children this age are very self-centered. Your daughter is likely to look at this tragedy in one of two ways. She will either think, “This is my fault!” or “This could happen to me or my mom or my dad.” So prepare for that.
As for the religion thing – I do think you need to address it. Because, again, you have no control over what the other children in her class are being told and they will talk amongst themselves. Many (probably most) of them will be told that Miss Dasaro is in Heaven. I’m an atheist myself, and, if this were my child I would focus on people living on in our memory and in the legacy of their work – that Miss Dasaro was a nice lady and a good teacher and that your daughter will always have memories of her, and will always have the things that Miss Dasaro taught her. Specifics will be nice – “Remember the holiday party when Miss Dasaro told you that joke you like so much? You will always have the memory of that joke and that fun party. That’s is how Miss Dasaro would like you to remember her.” or “Miss Dasaro taught you and lots of other children to read. As you all grow up, you’ll read lots and lots of books – thousands and thousands of books, probably. And every one of them will owe a little to Miss Dasara, because she taught you all to read. That’s called a ‘legacy’ – something that a person does that lives on after he or she is gone. Don’t you think that’s a nice legacy – teaching children to read?”
Finally, I’ll recommend a book to read your daughter later on – The Doll’s House by Rumer Godden. The doll-mother in the book is ‘killed’ at the end and the final paragraphs of the book are some of the most poignant and beautiful ever written – but completely non-religious:
“Things come and things pass,” said little Mr. Plantaganet.
“Everything, from trees to dolls,” said Tottie.
“Even for small things like us, even for dolls. Good things and bad things, but the good things have come back, haven’t they, Tottie?” asked Mr. Plantaganet anxiously.
“Of course they have,” saif Tottie in her kind wooden voice.
“Good things and bad. They were very bad,” said Mr. Plantagenet.
“But they come and they pass, so let us be happy now,” said Tottie.
“Without Birdie?” asked Mr. Plantagenet, his voice trembling.
“Birdie would be happy. She couldn’t help it,” said Tottie.
And Birdie’s bright tinkling music went on in the doll’s house and, on her hat that still hung in the hall, and on her feather broom and on her parasol, the colors and the patterns were still bright.
Crikey Sentient, that came across as a little bit crass.
You posted this while I was composing my long post above. You have a point, I think. However, I still think that, at this age, the first flush of a tragedy like this is better met by the child’s parents than by grief counselors and so on. At least, that’s how it would have been with my own kids when they were that age. For a real trauma, they wanted me. If I had dealt with something like this when my kids were that age, I would have kept them home tomorrow and the weekend, then sent them back to school on Monday.
Kalhoun has a really good point, too – kids are much stronger and tougher than we usually give them credit for.
Cite? What kid is “wired” for theism? How would any kid come up with such an idea without having it implanted and why should it be humored once it is implanted?
Would you tell a Christian family that maybe their kid is really an atheist…or a Muslim?
Answer: She didn’t go anywhere. She’s going to rot in the ground. People make up stories about heaven to make themselves feel better.
Why stop there? You better tell them about hell as well, and reincarnation. If its a theist family, be sure to tell them that not everyone believes in heaven.
Why can’t you just respect an atheist parent’s desire to keep religious answers out of this.
Psst, Diogenes – thataway.
DtC, I see your point, and normally, I’d disagree with Mr. Moto, but telling the daughter her teacher is rotting in the ground is not going to make her feel better.