When I first heard that there had been another school shooting, my initial reaction, other than grief for the lives lost, was confusion.
When I first started teaching in Montgomery County, Maryland, we had a couple of instances of threats in the community that we had to shelter for. We made sure all children were in the classroom and closed our doors, but otherwise continued with our normal routines. These had nothing to do with suspected school shooters, though.
We also ran drills for lockdowns in case a threat to the school had entered the premises. You’d shut and lock your door, close the blinds, turn off lights, and crouch in a corner with all the kids out of sight from any windows or doors.
I remember running drills for both shelters and lockdowns, but the children and I didn’t feel scared when doing them. We didn’t ever actually expect that a drill could become a reality.
Threats feel much more real now
After three years of teaching at that school, I spent years teaching in Chicago and New York City. Five years ago, I came back to Montgomery County, and since then, the threat of a school shooter feels much more real.
We’ve heard about shootings consistently enough to make them feel like it could actually happen in our school. Every drill doesn’t just feel like a drill anymore. You have to shake the trauma off after each one.
We do lockdown drills about four times each school year. In the mornings, we’ll be informed there will be a drill later in the day. When I first started out, it was always done without warning, but because it has recently caused so much worry, we’re warned what time they’ll happen.
I’ll inform the kids, who this year are mostly 9-year-olds, and tell them exactly what they’ll do. I warn them to be absolutely silent even for the drill, saying that if it were the real thing, just the slightest whisper might invite a shooter into our classroom.
Kids have a lot of questions
Some of the children take the drills light-heartedly. Others are very quiet, and I can tell they’re worried.
Once the drill finishes, I debrief with the class, letting them ask me questions and tell me how they feel. This debrief used to be short, but now, kids always have lots of questions.
Some of the most common ones are: How would someone get into the school? Why would someone want to hurt us? What if they see or hear us? What if I get stuck in the bathroom or the nurse’s office when the lockdown has already happened?
These drills, although just practice, become more of a reality with every school shooting we hear about.
I answer each question of theirs as honestly as possible because while I don’t want to scare them unnecessarily, both they and I know that a school shooter in our building is definitely a risk.
But I try to lighten the mood.
“They’ll have to get through Mrs. Maresco, so they’ll never get into our room,” I tell them. “I’ll take them out before they get to you.”
It’s true. I would protect the children in my class as if they were my own. I’d put myself in front of them at any cost. I’m a mama bear for each class I teach, and I want children to know they are safe in my care.
I’m also a mom of 2
But I don’t want to have to do that because I have two little girls who are waiting for their mom to come home to them at the end of my workday.
I don’t want to take down someone who has a gun because I don’t want to be the teacher who was in the news last week, who tried to help, and now can’t go home to his kids. But I might have to.
I’ve heard people raise concerns that the drills traumatize children. They might be annoyed by their frequency and their impact on the kids, especially young ones.
But drills aren’t where we should direct our irritation. If nothing is going to change, drills are our only option as teachers to keep ourselves and our students safe. Our frustration should be directed at the fact that this issue hasn’t gone away.