December 19, 2012
There were tears in school this past week. At least two parents I spoke to were moved to tears over the tragedy in Connecticut. One as she dropped off her two young ones and watched as an MPA teacher threw her arms open for a hug; the other as he waited to pick up his young one and tried to make sense of it.
As much as I would like to reassure families that what happened at Sandy Hook couldn’t happen here, I can’t. At least as of this writing, there appears to be no connection between the shooter and the school he chose for his rampage. If one is later revealed, it is likely to be a tenuous one. In addition, he shot his way through a locked door. The adults in the vicinity sacrificed themselves trying to stop him before he could get to the children. How are we to make any sense of this in the context of school safety? Are we to convert our schools to high security facilities with blast walls and armed guards?
We ran a routine lockdown drill last week, two days before the tragedy. I also recall a lockdown drill we ran on the morning of the Virginia Tech shooting in the spring of 2007. And so we prepare. We prepare and hope never to need to rely on this training.
My wife is never comforted by the statistic I quote her about the relative safety of air travel over the two mile drive to the grocery store in a car. But it is also true that the safest place for a child, statistically, is in school. Far more violence is done to children outside of school than in. Amidst the media flood of images of the cherubic faces of the five and six year-old children gunned down last Friday though, statistics may be cold comfort.
And yet…you dropped off your children at school this week. You entrusted them to us. And there is no responsibility we take more seriously than ensuring their safety. Schools all over the country this week are reviewing procedures. We talked about some possible adjustments to ours. We watch, and we learn.
Most importantly, we pay attention to the children. We listen to them and invite them to share with us. We know them. We know you. It’s what it means to have a close community.
A close community like ours has been shattered this past week, and no one could have predicted it. There is no escaping that tremendously unsettling fact. It could happen anywhere. But remember: millions of children had a routine day at school last Friday. And while many adults struggled with dropping off their precious ones this week, the children were fine.
More than likely, the tears that will be shed in the next few weeks will be over heartfelt goodbyes at the end of family visits. The light in the eyes of a child opening a gift, making a snow angel, or baking cookies with grandma will mean a little bit more this holiday season as we imagine the heartache of Sandy Hook families. We’ll stay by her side a little bit longer as she falls asleep. We’ll linger outside with him a few cold minutes more to add one more tower to the snowfort.
Hold them close this season. Love them. And we’ll be ready with hugs when they return.
