Heather Smith is an educator in Haywood County, which is in the disaster area declaration. She says in the chaos she sees the beauty of schools, learning, educators, resiliency, and hope.
Friday morning, we awoke to trees bending and swaying in the strong winds that Hurricane Helene brought to Waynesville. After a short time on the porch, anxiously watching for any sign that those trees might fall on our newly built house, we saw sparks light up the sky, followed by a loud boom. In an instant, the lights went out.
When the rain finally settled, we decided to assess the damage. Being higher up the mountain, we assumed there would be several downed trees and branches covering the road. Little did we know we were not going anywhere. The stream, which ran beautifully under the entrance to our community through a culvert and out on the other side had become a raging river that rushed swiftly over the road. That raging river brought hundreds of large rocks and debris. The powerful water went out of its banks and created its own path. A path that was running right through my neighbor’s field and hitting against their house. A path of destruction.
Tears. Instant tears. My heart became overwhelmed with the thought of what so many were going through.
They told us to prepare. They told us it would be catastrophic. They told us to brace ourselves. They were right, but how do you prepare for what just happened?
Everything is broken.
It is broken like the many mountain roads in Haywood County where pavement is ripped to shreds or completely swept away. These are the roads needed to connect the members of our community, who are isolated, to town to get supplies needed to survive. These are the roads that buses run on to transport our students to school.
It is broken like the power lines that leave so many without electricity, internet, and water. The powerlines that the noble linemen, from all over the country, are working days on end to repair.
It is broken like the cell towers that leave us without service and the ability to communicate. The cell towers needed to provide information to parents and students to let them know about school closings. The cell towers that our administration is without to ensure that all staff members are accounted for.
It is broken like the hearts of so many who have lost everything. The hearts that long for answers. The hearts that do not know where to go from here.
Haywood County Schools has students who have experienced more than you can imagine in their young lives, disrupting their time in the school building over and over again. In 2019, our students experienced COVID-19. In 2020, our county was under a cyber attack. In 2021, Hurricane Fred hit and flooded the area. In 2023, the Canton Paper Mill sounded its final whistle and shut down. Now, our students will be out of touch with the school community because of Hurricane Helene for an unknown amount of time.
As broken as my community is from this disaster, our spirits remain intact. Through this brokenness, we have witnessed an outpouring of beauty that shines brightly.
The beauty of community. The community where neighbors come together to support one another. The community didn’t wait; it sprang into action, lending a hand immediately to those affected. With tractors and excavators fired up, we witnessed the collective effort to clear away mud, fallen trees, and rocks, transforming chaos into hope.
Local churches have opened their doors, offering free meals and supplies, ensuring that no one goes hungry or feels alone. This spirit of generosity reminds us that we are stronger together, united by a common purpose. Even when fatigue sets in, the community stands, refusing to stop until we overcome this. Each act of kindness, every shared resource, builds a foundation of trust and solidarity. In these moments, we are reminded of the profound impact of coming together, proving that the heart of a community is stronger together.
The beauty of schools. Our schools are the hub of our community, opening their doors as a place where children can come and eat a hot meal. A place that becomes a distribution center where people can come and get the things they need. A place where there is a sense of home and love.
The beauty of learning. Students are learning despite there not being school. Students are learning what it means to overcome adversity. They’re learning the importance of helping others, and stepping up to support their friends and community in times of need. This journey teaches them valuable life lessons that go beyond textbooks, showing that education happens not just in the classroom, but in the heart of every experience.
The beauty of educators. In our county, educators are dedicated to checking in on their students, making sure everyone feels supported and loved. Across the state, educators are uniting in a spirit of collaboration, eager to lend a helping hand. They are driven by a shared mission to uplift those in need, whether through organizing fundraisers, volunteering their time, or creating support networks. Initiatives at their schools are blossoming, with efforts to collect supplies, food, and resources for families facing hardship, showcasing the powerful impact of collective action.
The beauty of resiliency. The resiliency that shines brightly in the spirit of our students. It’s the resiliency that empowers them to pick up where they left off, turning challenges into opportunities for success in the classroom. Each time they face setbacks, they don’t just persevere; they flourish, demonstrating a remarkable ability to adapt and thrive. The resiliency that allowed us to rebuild before and will help us rebuild again.
The beauty of hope. The hope that we cling to knowing that we will overcome this. Hope reminds us that every challenge holds the promise of growth and that even the most difficult moments can lead to new beginnings. With hope, we find the courage to face uncertainty.
I am so PROUD to live in Western North Carolina and I am PROUD to be a public school educator who can use my voice to uplift my community in a time of need. Together, we are gathering the broken pieces, knowing that our scars can become symbols of perseverance, and that, like the majestic mountains surrounding us, we too will rise again, stronger and more united. We are #HaywoodStrong.
Editor’s Note: Heather Smith is serving as a special correspondent during the Hurricane Helene recovery.