My son is a six-year-old first grader. Tomorrow morning I have to let him, and his older sister, go to school. I think it might be the hardest thing I've ever done.
I love our elementary school. We have amazing teachers and staff. It's an old building, and I love that when you walk in it looks straight out of the 70's, but when you stick your head in a classroom, the teachers are progressive and always striving to try something new, different. Better. Our principal is young and fun and up for anything. The kids love her and she knows them by name. The staff throughout the building is just as committed to the students as any teacher. And right now, I'm terrified of sending my kids to this place.
After we put the kids to bed this evening, my husband and I debated if we should have talked with our older two about what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary. While we were talking I thought it seemed like a good idea to at least mention it. I would want them to hear about it from us, versus kids at school or overhearing adults talking in the hallway. But now, as I'm getting ready to head up to bed myself, I am having a hard time formulating the words I would say. I don't think I can tell them, even in the barest of terms, of the horror that happened to those innocent children, and then send my precious babies off to school.
On the front page of the Star Tribune today were the pictures of the 20 children, six and seven years old, who were killed at Sandy Hook Elementary in Connecticut on Friday. I looked at those sweet faces, and then at my son, sitting at the kitchen table drawing. He came home on Friday afternoon and asked me if I'd ever been in a lock-down. My heart stilled as I tried to determine if he'd somehow heard about the shooting. I answered cautiously, saying that as a teacher I had been apart of lock-down drills, but I had never been involved in a real lock-down situation. Then I asked why he was wondering. He said that after lunch that day his teacher, a young, pregnant woman who my daughter also had two years ago, had them practice a lock-down. She shut her door, turned out the lights and had all of the students get under their desks. He knew nothing of the day's news, thankfully, but he knew that a lock-down means there is a bad person in the school. I asked him if it had been scary. He said no. And that he had tried very hard to make sure not a single part of him, not even a finger, was sticking out from under his desk. I hugged him and forced myself to say that his school is a safe place, even though I didn't believe the words coming out of my mouth.
I am not going to get into the gun control debate. Or the mental health debate. I have my views, but that's not what my post is about tonight. I am going to say, however, that I'm worried about the safety of our elementary students. Most high school have police officers on campus and podiums are set directly inside the front door, with staff requiring all visitors to sign-in. But I know our elementary school is not the only school where the only security measure is a sign on the front door that reads "visitors please sign in." I also know that fancy security systems, like Sandy Hook had just installed, won't stop someone who means to do serious harm. But there has to be a way to better protect these buildings, all across our country, filled with our most precious citizens.
I'm going to try to go to sleep now. So I can wake up, have my coffee, send my kids off to school. And pray.
