Every month without fail, an alarm goes off, you see the reflection vest of your teacher, and the clip board they hold close to them. You enter the hallway in a single file line (or an attempt at one, at best), and you walk either to the football field or the random filed you have behind your school that you’re not entirely sure what it’s going to be used for.
We do this to practice what we would do if the school burned down. In case a fire started in the cafeteria because the lunch ladies forgot about the tater tots in the oven. While we should have precautionary measures just in case this does happen, let me ask you this: When was the last time you heard about children dying in a mass fire rather than children dying in a mass shooting? Exactly.
The big question being asked is: Why are we more prepared for the event of a fire rather than the event of a shooting? Why are we blatantly ignoring the plague that runs through schools today? Fires are rare, fires are predictable.
The combination of alarms, sprinklers, and size of school buildings make your chance at survival high. Shootings, on the other hand? There’s no code, barely an escape, and inevitably, there’s blood or fatality…it’s gruesome.
With all this being common knowledge in the climate of America today, why are there two lock down drills annually instead of monthly like fire drills?
In every lock down drill I’ve done in my 13 years of school, we always have those kids who take it as a joke, who giggle in the corner of the class, who scroll TikTok mindlessly because “who cares, it’s just another drill.” Until it’s not.
The fear that runs through your body, the goosebumps you get while you’re hoping you don’t hear footsteps coming down your hallway, and the billions of thoughts flooding your brain of things you should’ve said to your family, the kisses you should’ve given your dogs, they’re all hitting you now.
Unfortunately, this is a reality for many. There are actions and solutions that must be fulfilled. First of all, we need to stop pretending that fires are the biggest threat. Yes, fire drills don’t make kids cry, fire drills don’t remind us of the eerie hospital beds that could be waiting, but fire drills don’t prepare us for the worst possible outcomes.
These horrendous outcomes are actually pretty common.
For every life lost in school, for every parent’s cry, and for every backpack that doesn’t get brought home is the missed opportunity for a lockdown drill, for more preparation, for anything.
Start teaching your kids reality instead of hiding them from fear. No child should be more prepared for a fire, rather than the violence heading down the hallway.
