Growing Up With School Shootings
The threat of violent attacks has shaped my childhood since the beginning
The Columbine massacre occurred exactly five months before I was born. When recounting the incident with my mom recently, she recalled thinking “what kind of world was I bringing my child into?” In time, she would help me onto the school bus for my first day of school. Would she do so in fear?
At the age of six, I entered elementary school. School as a kindergartner was hardly taxing. Coloring, learning to count, and playing with friends at recess consumed the majority of my day. However, every once in a while, the 20-some students in the class would be ushered into the corner of the classroom and tucked under desks. The lights were turned off and the windows covered with dark construction paper borrowed from our craft corner. We were instructed not to speak and to keep our eyes low.
When you stand somewhere just shy of four feet tall and still believe in unicorns, active shooter training is hardly bothersome — it actually allows students to skip dreaded afternoon nap-time. Like routine fire and tornado drills, active shooter training was commonplace in school. But as a kid, you don’t understand the gravity of the situation you are preparing for.
