Her homeroom students would arrive in five minutes, and Jaclyn Smith-Spade was still fighting back the tears.

The literature and ESL teacher at the Community Academy of Philadelphia, a K-12 charter school in Harrowgate, did not want to show her despair over the election of Donald Trump. Not in front of her kids.

She wanted to show strength when she answered the questions that would come concerning the next president:

Does this mean I have to leave and go back to my country? Are they going to take my parents away? Why does he hate us?

Nearly 75 percent of the students at Jackie's school are Latino. Wednesday morning, Day One of Donald Trump, some of the children were frightened.

This is America now.

Jackie is a friend and neighbor of mine. She is 37 and cares deeply about her students. In the months and weeks leading to the election, she had been fielding many questions from them about Trump.

Is it true he hates Mexicans?

Is it true he thinks he has a right to touch women?

If Trump becomes president, does that mean gay people will no longer have the right to be married?

She was teaching the Walt Whitman poem "O Captain! My Captain!" to 11th graders last week - Whitman had written it to honor the fallen Abraham Lincoln, she told the class - when talk turned to Trump.

"Watch me honor him, he'll never honor me," one Latino student said of the Republican nominee for president.

That was before Tuesday. Trump was still a scary joke then. Now he was a slap in the face.

Jackie prepared for homeroom. She had already told her own children - 7-year-old son Jonas, and 4-year-old daughter Fiona - of the election results before school.

Jonas had come home one day recently to tell her: "Mommy, my friend said Donald Trump called women 'slobs.' " He worried that if Trump were president, a playmate at school, who is Cambodian, might be sent away.

On Tuesday night, Jackie waited until the kids were in bed before she turned on the television to watch the election returns.

"Sometimes the popular thought isn't always the right one," she told Jonas on Wednesday morning. She reminded him that he is to treat everyone with dignity and respect.

Fiona picked up on her brother's concern.

"Are we going to be OK?" she asked.

Before homeroom Wednesday, two high school girls who identify as lesbians stopped by to talk to Jackie, upset. What does this mean for us? they asked. What does this mean for our futures?

One of the girls' hands shook.

In homeroom, the kids asked about the popular vote: Hillary Clinton had won it. Was there still hope?

In public speaking class, she tried to make the students concentrate on an assignment: Prepare speeches on something special from their cultures.

A ninth grader had shared her family's recipe for Mangú, a traditional Dominican dish of mashed green plantains. But what she really wanted to talk about was Trump. She wanted to know if she'd have to leave America.

It was like that in other Community Academy classrooms.

Lovinda Weaver, an ESL instructor who teaches kindergarten through 12th grade, went to bed Tuesday with this thought: Oh, my gosh, how am I going to tell the students?"

All this time she had been telling them that it could never happen - that America would never elect Trump. Now we have.

"We have all these students who are experiencing a bit of trauma," she said, the younger ones especially. "They are worried that the day after the inauguration, they are going to be packed up on a boat and sent home."

Lovinda, like Jackie, assures the kids there is a process - the president can't just send them away. But that assurance is not enough for some children.

"How come people voted for someone who hates us?" a girl asked Jackie on Wednesday.

The student noticed that her question brought fresh tears to her teacher's eyes.

"Its OK, Miss," the student told her teacher. "You can cry."