Thirty plus years ago March 2 1987, I was a tiny seven-year-old sitting in a first grade class on a what I remember to be a sunny day. Before the regular school day was over, we were told that we would be sent home early. We then heard on the bus from the older kids that there was a school shooting in our high school building. For a seven-year-old, this was scary. I understood death very well, being a farm kid and pastor's daughter. Dad was always having a calf die or he was attending a funeral where he was the minister. However, I didn't understand that guns were dangerous until that day. Guns were just something Dad and Grandpa had around the house to "take care of the coyotes" if they messed with the cattle.
Guns weren't for the death of a person.
My dad was on the school board the year of the shooting, and years
later I found out that he was gone a lot during that week to help deal
with the aftermath. Newspapers and even news channels
all over the country blared the news about our tiny town of 250 souls.
My dad saved many of the paper clippings, which I also found in his
office when I was older. Various articles have been published since
then, all citing similar details: there was a bully, the shooter warned
several that he was going to do this, no one took him seriously, and it
wasn't a school shooting like some of the ones we have heard of
in more recent years. One of my friends who was at the high school that year recounted the full story to me in harrowing detail. How her sister saved students, how the teacher saved lives, how he held the shooter in his arms until help came.
Dear God. The nightmares that had to have followed.
During my high school years, I
would walk past the deceased boys' final 7th-grade portraits in the
hallway each day. Timothy Perrin. Nathan Faris. One was deemed a hero by
many newspapers and other students. The other, a bullied adolescent.
Every single day of my seventh- through twelfth-grade years, I saw those
boys and wondered, "Why?," and felt sad about the losses their families
must have still felt. They were so young. They had whole lives ahead of
them, cut short. Even today, I can, with absolute clarity, close my eyes
and bring to life the morning sun shining in on their photos in the
cases in the southeast hallway. Two smiles that will never again be
apart of this world.
In 1999, I was a freshman in
college, eagerly starting on my teaching degree when the news broke
about the Columbine shooting. My nineteen-year-old self viewed
everything that day through the retrospect and memories of a
seven-year-old. New questions filled my mind: What if that day back in
1987 had been like Columbine? It could have. Why would someone want to
kill so many people? My heart broke all over again, just like it would
each time I heard about another school shooting over the decades to
follow. I would be a
teacher in just a few short years. What if this happened at my school
where I was teaching?
Fifteen years into my
teaching career, I can promise you that there are no quick fixes to
eradicating school shootings. There is no single, solitary cause. I wish
there was a quick fix. I think we all wish that. Please understand: I
don't go to school each day thinking I will die. I don't go to school
each day in fear. But I can promise you I do go to school every day with
that seven-year-old still inside of me. First grade is a lifetime
removed from me, but that March day in 1987 is not. So I do what I can,
just like all of us can.
That seven-year-old is present every time I train my students how to act and react if an intruder was to show up.
That
seven-year-old is present every time I talk to my students about what I
remember about having a school shooting in my district when I was
little. That seven-year-old is present every time I have
discussions about bullying. About kindness. About doing our part to make
the world a better place. About gun control. I allow my kids to express
their ideas, even if we don't always agree with each other. I play the
devil's advocate, as they do with me. We challenge each other, and do so with
respect.
If I can leave you with a few thoughts, I'll start with this: Bullies aren't solely teenagers. Adult bullies exist, too.
Don't
believe me? Just go to any major online news story and look at the
comments threading below, streaming from both sides. Or maybe look on
your own posts on social media and the comments below. Did you delete or
block someone recently? Or restrict them from seeing your page or
commenting on your posts about your perspective on a recent issue? The hate I see online is unparalleled. There aren't bullets in these online forums, but there are words that sting without civility, which, too, are not acceptable.
I'll wrap things up with this: remember your own seven-year-old self and the lessons you learned in
those formative years; remember them when you encounter the horrific news we see all too often.
The perspective of a child is not the
perspective of my
somewhat jaded and cynical near-forty-year-old self (or whatever your
current age is). I doubt many first-graders would post what we post
online, right? I'm guessing that a majority of you had teachers,
friends, and/or parents who taught you about being a good friend,
helping others, integrity--how to be a decent human being. We can't fix
the school shooting or gun-related issues over night, but we can all do
better, myself included, to treat each other with kindness while the processes are all in motion. We can
brainstorm from all walks of life and political backgrounds to do the
best and right thing for the next generation.
So yes, let's keep talking. Keep this conversation going
with your own children (regardless of their ages), your families, your
friends, your co-workers, but with respect.
Links worth reading/watching:
Article about the DeKalb, Missouri shooting:
https://www.upi.com/Archives/
I
didn't mention this at all, but this TED talk is very powerful. Sue
Klebold talks about the death of her son who was a shooter at Columbine:
https://www.ted.com/speakers/
Written in 2019, updated 2024.
This is my most read blog at 5100 hits. I do take it down from time to time, however, because of its harrowing content. Thank you for reading it. I hope you'll help me help change our country with better ways to protect children.
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