Content warning: This story is about gun violence.
Like many others in my generation — sometimes referred to as the “lockdown generation” — the risk of gun violence in schools has been a constant. My K-12 experience was filled with emergency drills, run-hide-fight trainings, and headlines reminding me that students just like me went to school only to never come home again. During my time in college alone, I have seen the effects of shootings at Florida State University and Michigan State University; I’ve mourned their losses and I’ve been reminded that I need to prepare in case my campus is next.
On Dec. 13, Brown University was the latest school to experience a shooting, which, according to multiple reports, took the lives of two students and injured at least nine others. As an education major, this tragic news brings up the same feelings of fear and grief that all of these stories do, and reinforces a disturbing truth about my chosen field of study and future profession: Not only am I currently facing down the everyday possibility of a campus shooting as a college student, but I am also preparing for a career in which that will be an ongoing threat. It’s a devastating reality I know many of my fellow education majors grapple with — not just in the days following the news of the latest school shooting, but every day of our lives.
As a future teacher, I know this constant worry won’t end once I graduate college.
My whole life, I have been told that college is supposed to be my best years — and the best time to take risks. But how can I do so, when this time in my life has been spent doing whatever I can to stay safe? My classmates and I take actions every day that come from a place of fear of violence in our learning environment. I try to sit in view of exits in my classes; I make sure to stay hyper-vigilant in crowded spaces. I often wonder whether these habits will help me do the right thing in the face of violence.
As a future teacher, I know this constant worry won’t end once I graduate college. Doing the right thing during an active shooter situation becomes infinitely more important when the lives of students depend on the actions I take as an educator. This is something I have to prepare myself for — there are no classes in my teacher education curriculum that tells me how to respond to those calling for schools to arm teachers, or how to wrap my head around how acting in loco parentis (in place of parents) comes with the expectation of risking your own life for your students’ safety. Gun violence in this country become so normalized that educating and protecting my students may mean making the ultimate sacrifice — and receiving only thoughts and prayers in return. That’s what I’m signing up for.
Nevertheless, I wouldn’t trade my career path in teaching for anything. So far, I have loved my time in the classroom and with the students I have taught. Making a positive impact on those in my care will always be my motivation, no matter the risk. Despite the near-constant headlines, I choose to hold out hope that, one day, no educator will have to fear for their lives and the lives of their students. I have seen others send prayers without speaking up, but being an education major has only solidified my belief that, when it comes to gun violence, enough is enough. The students in my future classroom deserve to believe that there is more to life than living in fear — and so do I.