Being a Teacher in the Mass Shooting Era
Pretending our half-hearted measures and barricaded classrooms count as action
After Parkland, I remember moving a pair of large scissors from my desk to the podium in the front of my classroom. It wasn’t a conscious strategy I formulated — like how James Bond scatters an arsenal around his home so he is ready for anything. Instead, it was the illusion of action I was pursuing— the idea that somehow I could trick myself into believing my classroom was safer if I could grab a pair of scissors quickly regardless of where I was in the room. That was the same day I first saw a student bring a Kevlar-lined backpack to school. At our staff meeting, we learned about our new fire alarm policy — when the fire alarm goes off, shelter in place until someone comes on the intercom to give further instruction.
This is what the illusion of action looks like. While grabbing some books from my closet last week, I subconsciously took a mental note of how many kids I could fit inside it. Sometimes while my kids are working, I look at my door and wonder how many of our flimsy desks it would take to barricade it — and how many seconds it would take for someone to wade through them — and which students I would ask in those few seconds to rush the door with me to give us all the best chance. And then I blink back to…
