I Am Not Afraid of School Shootings. Are You?
I wasn’t planning to write a post about the terrible tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut last Friday. I feel as though there are no real words one can say here. All we have our feelings, and mine have been rubbed raw.
But I am a writer, and as such, before I write, I analyze. And I’ve analyzed my feelings in a hundred ways since Friday, and can honestly say that among the many emotions I’ve encountered (grief chief among them, anger a very close and red-hot second), fear is not one of them.
Yesterday, Monday, I sent my sons to school with a heavy, but not fearful, heart. I didn’t think much about not being afraid, concretely afraid, that something would happen to them in their school on that day, no more than I was afraid of something awful happening to them when I shipped them off to the bus stop the Friday before.
But then I started seeing a stream of Facebook posts and Tweets from parents who dropped off their kids at school with fear, expressing their anxiety and their instinct to keep them close, to not let them out the door of the house or out of the car.
I get it, that instinct, but I don’t have it, I don’t think.
My sons’ school, which serves grades 3 to 5, sounds a lot like what I’ve heard reported about Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, when it comes to security and procedures. Like Sandy Hook, after the school day officially begins, outside doors automatically locked, and any visitors must be electronically buzzed in.
I’ve been there, at the doors to my kids’ school, waiting for the receptionist to click the button that would allow me in. And I’ve stood there in the lobby waiting for someone I was there to meet, whether it’s my kid for an early pick up, or the social worker for a meeting, and I see the intensity of activity. Parents, PTA members, teachers, staff, kids. That receptionist spends long periods of the day buzzing that door button, over and over again.
What else can they do? It’s a school, not a prison.
Adam Lanza, say reports I’ve read, shot through a window to get in. Which anyone with that evil intent could do.
I’m not afraid it will happen at my sons’ school. And I resist any call or pull to feel fear.
I don’t enjoy the grief I’m feeling, and I don’t relish the anger. But if I had to add fear to grief? That’s a place I just don’t want to go.
Renee Anne
December 18, 2012 @ 12:19 pm
I think the that the fear is, as you said, instinctive but it’s also irrational. People like Adam Lanza could be in any town, in any grocery aisle, visiting any park, on any street. Yes, they *could* be. But holding your children closer because of a very horrific and very rare event does a disservice to your children. They should be aware, yes (if they’re old enough to comprehend it on some level), but not have to live in fear of something that will most likely never happen to them.
Did I hug my 2 year old son closer on Friday? Yes. Did I let him play in the yard later? Yes. I’m not going to live in fear that some crazed lunatic is going to come along and shoot him because, really, it probably won’t happen.
Kayris
December 18, 2012 @ 1:29 pm
Yes, I’m afraid. It doesn’t mean I won’t send my kids to school or keep them indoors, but I do worry about the direction our society has taken. Mental illness or not, I can’t comprehend how someone could murder an entire room full of innocent kids. How does this happen? And why did it take a tragedy of this scope to get people seriously talking about ways to stop it? Someone said to me today, “Better late than never,” but if I were a parent in CT, that would be no comfort. I know someone who lost a nephew.
There have been 31 school shootings since 1999, one in my own city. The crazy lunatics are only growing in number.
Denise Schipani
December 18, 2012 @ 1:32 pm
Kayris, I hear you. I’m afraid in that same overall, “what the heck is going on in our country” sense that you describe. What I was distinguishing between in this post is the difference between my drenching grief for those affected in CT (not to mention anyone who has been touched by a gun tragedy), and the fear *that it will happen to my boys.* This, I don’t feel, and it’s a tiny measure of relief for me.
Paula
December 18, 2012 @ 4:27 pm
Yes, I’m afraid. I am afraid that someone will hurt my son. For me–and I know the difference is only semantics–I don’t have reason to believe that that is likely to happen today. So I feel the fear, but I deal with it; he doesn’t. He plays. He does his kid things. Because that’s the way I believe it’s supposed to work; I’m supposed to deal with it so he isn’t forced to carry my fear and grow his own to match. But good God yes, I am afraid.
Kayris
December 18, 2012 @ 2:54 pm
6 months ago I would have agreed. But then a 15 year old took a rifle to a school in my community in August and shot a boy with Down Syndrome. Not the school my kids go to, but it’s down the street from my gym, a school my kids COULD end up attending if we moved. A middle class neighborhood that never saw it coming.
Nina
December 18, 2012 @ 3:04 pm
So far I haven’t been afraid either, or at least let it creep up to the level that it can. I feel like if I live in a paranoid world, that I’m denying myself and my kid the chance to live a good, happy life. However I won’t lie and say that if it had happened closer to home, I would be more afraid, and moving on with life would be more of a challenge.
kim
December 18, 2012 @ 7:57 pm
No I am not afraid. I don’t live in the United Sates so that puts me at a distinct advantage I presume. I live in Canada I suppose I can muster some form of distance, but like the rest of the world I felt that instinctual gasp of “No!” “OMG!” gut reaction.
I don’t know why I think the way I do. I am just able to reason that, like getting hit by lightening or winning the lottery are rare occurrences so to is a child kidnapping or mass shooting at a school. I just don’t fear it.
Jmac
December 19, 2012 @ 5:31 am
If we let fear rule, we might as well just quit trying now. I’m afraid of lots of things, but I want more for my life than just to feel safe. The definition of courage is being afraid and doing it anyway.
Ldee
December 19, 2012 @ 7:43 am
I agree 100%.
I’m always afraid of what could happen. I’ve had this same fear since I was pregnant with my first child. That big fat ‘what if’ is always there in the back of my mind, but I don’t let that rule my life or the decisions I make.
Jennifer Fink
December 19, 2012 @ 10:00 am
I’m with you. I’m saddened by what happens, and hope that we take steps, as a country and a culture, to make this country a better, safer place for everyone. But I didn’t feel afraid to send my kids off to school. I know my kids are in good hands at school, and as much as I hope it never, never comes to it, I know that the teachers and staff at my kids’ school would go to the same lengths to protect my kids (and the other children) as the teachers and staff did at Sandy Hook.
Caro
December 19, 2012 @ 1:09 pm
Our children are in much more danger every time we strap them in the car. So no, I’m not afraid to drop them off at school. School is the safest place for them.
Diana
December 20, 2012 @ 3:36 pm
I feel much like Denise does. I can not let something like that make me afraid. It is really something that, God forbid, if someone really wants to do, they will. Full stop.
I try to not be afraid for my kids and when I am, not to let them see it. I try to teach them things to make them safer (how to cross the street, what to do when approached by a stranger, etc.). However, my first responsibility to my children is to raise them. To teach them things that will allow them to grow and become well-adjusted functioning adults. Having them live in fear of things, especially things that are both rare and not in their control, limits what I can teach them and hurts them learning how to live in the world.
I love them too much to let fear consume and cripple their growth.
Helena Almberg
December 31, 2012 @ 4:55 pm
I believe that there is no greater pain than loosing a child. The pain is unbearable, draining, deep and does never go away, never! I have fear of that pain.
My kids are 21 and 20, out in the college. We lived through Columbine High School, Red Lake High School, Virginia Tech University and Colorado movie shootings. My heart goes to all the parents that lost a child in these atrocities. My kids didn’t stay at home at any of those occasions. My fear did.
I fear that my kids will get hit when they are crossing the street, that some drunk driver will smash the car they are in, that someone will add drugs to their drinks, that my daughter will get involved with some maniac boy-friend. Nevertheless, they drive a car, they go to parties, they have boy and girl friends, they travel. My fears stay home, they stay put and quiet.
The fear of “the” pain, also makes me live more, enjoy more, and saver every moment with my kids as if it was the last one.
Denise Schipani
December 31, 2012 @ 5:02 pm
What a beautiful way to put it, Helena — that the fears stay home with you, while you let your children live their lives. Thank you for commenting!
Denise
Kayris
April 10, 2013 @ 5:54 pm
Coming back to this post because earlier today, an armed 18 year old walked into the high school I graduated from. No one was injured and apparently he was there to see his girlfriend, but still….
The shooter from the earlier school shooting in my state was recently given a life sentence. He is fifteen.