The New York Times asked readers a simple question in the wake of the mass shooting in San Bernardino, Calif.: How often, if ever, do you think about the possibility of a shooting in your daily life?
The number of responses was overwhelming. More than 5,000 readers wrote to tell us about the anxiety they felt while riding the subway, going to the movies, dropping their children off at school and attending religious services.
Some said they never thought about the possibility of being caught up in a mass shooting, while others shared their escape routes or emergency plans. Others who owned firearms said they believed they would be able to fight back if gunfire erupted near them.
Many of the responses evoked the melancholic sense that the United States is a scarier place than it once was. Here is a small selection of the stories that readers told.
'we are sitting ducks'
Margy, 58, a teacher in Connecticut, described what it is like to run emergency shelter-in-place drills with her young students. She said she thinks of shootings “in terms of how to protect my kids.”
“My classroom walls are entirely glass, so I must fit 17 children into a tiny, windowless bathroom (not as broad as my wingspan in any direction), and entertain them quietly (with poetry) until the all-clear,” she wrote. “Sheltering takes organized practice; our space is so small each kid has to know exactly where to stand (three on the toilet seat, steadied by floor-bound friends, two on a box, two under a shelf). As the humidity rises, kids draw smiley faces on the fogged-up mirror.”
“I keep a flashlight and A.A. Milne on the shelves in the bathroom,” she wrote. “It’s harder to be nervous when Pooh and Christopher Robin are present. The kids think we practice in case there’s a tornado.”
Winter, 15, a high school student in Oregon, said that she and her friends talked about where they could hide if gunfire erupted in their school.
“I would say I think about the possibility of a shooting in my life regularly,” she wrote. “People in my school talk about where you’re probably going to be safe and where you won’t be (you’re dead if you’re in the library. Chemistry room is probably okay. Fire drills put everyone out in lines in the field like sitting ducks).”
Jan Arabas, 57, a professor at Middlesex Community College in Massachusetts, said she worried that one of her students might bring a weapon to class.
“Every time one of my students is unhappy with a grade or disagrees with me about a course policy I wonder if that person will come shoot me,” she wrote. “I am afraid of my students. I didn’t used to feel this way. I think my anxiety began with the Virginia Tech shootings.”
Another teacher who responded using only the initials M.S. said students had asked who would protect them in the event of a shooting at their school.
“I constantly rehearse in my head the steps I would take to protect me and my kids from a shooter,” M.S. wrote. “My kids always ask how I will protect them (our classroom doors are no deterrent and there is nowhere to hide dozens of kids). All I can do is pump up my false bravado and let them know that we would fight as hard as we could and that ‘no one is gonna mess with this teacher’ but I know in the back of my head that we are sitting ducks.”
‘I experienced racism constantly’
Many African-American readers wrote to say they were more concerned with racism and possible violence at the hands of law enforcement than they were about mass shootings.
“I think about it daily,” wrote Adrienne, 30, from Manhattan. “I am a black woman in America, distrusting of law enforcement, from the South, where I experienced racism constantly, and most importantly, have lost four people, including a very close relative, to gun violence.”
“I fear road rage or saying ’no’ to a catcaller could end my life. It’s a very real reality I face everyday and I wish it wasn’t the case.”
Hannah, a 24-year old from Texas, said she was more concerned with a loved one being harmed or incarcerated ”for the ‘normal/regular’ type of gun violence. The handgun violence. The gang violence. The gun violence that is perpetuated every single day in our at-risk and impoverished communities where it an accepted norm that young black and brown children will either die or become emotionally scarred by these events.”
“It isn’t just the mass shootings in safe, white neighborhoods that scare me and worry me — it is ALL gun violence because black and brown lives matter too,” she wrote.
Rachel, 38, from Philadelphia, wrote that she worried about how people would treat her African-American son as he grew up.
“I think about the possibly of a shooting nearly daily as I dread the day when my precious and adored black son transitions in society’s eyes from cute to threatening and dangerous,” she wrote. “Crowded places or being in the wrong place at the wrong time, not so much.”
‘I’m so scared. I’m heartbroken.’
Many of the responses we received were from parents who worried their children could be injured or killed in a random burst of gunfire.
“Increasingly, especially in public spaces, I fear and envision gun violence,” wrote Kelley Alison Smith, 44, from Rhode Island. “I fear that someone I care about, particularly my daughter, will be in the wrong place at the wrong time, having the gall to go about what should be an everyday routine of attending school, or shopping, or going to the movies, and all of a sudden the day, and that life, ceases to be routine forever.”
“My stomach has dropped when I’ve walked down the long hallway at work, or stood reading at my church pulpit, knowing that I wouldn’t even have time to react if someone opened fire,” she wrote.
Another parent, Jacqueline Smale, 35, in Novi, Mich., wrote of feeling despair.
“I look at my kids and wonder if/how our days are numbered,” she said. “How much time do I have with them before something happens to one of us? When I’m at work and look at their pictures on my desk. When I’m driving home to see them.”
“The oldest of my three children is in kindergarten,” she continued. “They have lockdown drills. I imagine the fear and chaos of a school shooting. The children, my son, the life and love that can be taken away. How will I live with myself if something happens to them? I’m so scared. I’m heartbroken. Why are your guns more important than life itself? Where is our humanity?”
Tracy, a 38-year-old from Florida, wrote to tell us about the frightening scenarios that run through her head when she drops her daughter off for kindergarten.
“Is this the day? Will a shooter pick my daughter’s school because it only has one access road?” she wrote. “What will she be thinking as she cowers in a closet? Or under a desk? Will she be crying for me? Will her teacher protect her? How long will it take for me to get to her after it’s over? Will she be killed, or will she get lucky?”
‘I find myself noting how people look’
Lucy, 26, from Brooklyn, said she was more worried about gun violence than she was about terrorism. She thought about shootings twice a day, she estimated, and said many of her anxieties focused on how she would react if gunfire erupted on the New York City subway.
“The subway is an enclosed space where there is no security and is a very cramped, chaotic system,” she wrote. “On my commute to and from work, I find myself noting how people look: are they shifty, do they have a suspicious oversized black bag, where would I hide if someone open fired, etc.
“At this rate, I guess we can all calm down about ISIS because we are terrorizing each other already,” she said. “There is no need for them to come here and take our freedom hostage.”
Jasmine, 23, from San Francisco, said she thought about the possibility of a shooting “on a more or less daily basis.”
“I work in San Francisco and the thought comes up every single time I’m on the bus or train, many times when the door opens in my tiny office space (we don’t get too many visitors), and when I’m out at the theater or some big event,” she said.
Taylor Leonard, 25, from New York City, said his anxieties about gun violence were particularly acute ”in extremely crowded places where I don’t have an accessible exit.”
“The most difficult part for me is commuting on mass underground transit, where I know that I am vulnerable and would literally have no escape,” he wrote. “It is a terrifying thought to think about how easily something awful could occur underground. I have to not let my mind go there.”
“I do, however, notice that during times of terror, commuters tend to look at each other, smile and say thank you more often on the bus,” he wrote. “Which helps to ease concerns.”
‘Something changed in this country’
Taylor, 25, a nurse at a hospital in Indiana, said thoughts of gun violence crept into her mind “most nights at work.”
“I’m a nurse on night shift and catch myself thinking of what I would do if there was an active shooter at my hospital,” she wrote. “Where I would hide, what doors could we lock in such short notice, how do I keep patients and myself safe? It is alarming how often my mind wanders to such a nightmare in a place you should feel safest.”
Rich Dempsey, 62, works at a hospital in Missouri and said he had become “hyper aware” of the possibility of gun violence in the workplace since the mass shooting at Columbine High School that killed 12 students and one teacher in 1999.
“I always sit facing the doorway. I am deeply suspicious when I see a single white male wandering around, and stop and ask them where they are going,” he said. “I am probably more aware of which rooms can be securely locked rather than where the closest fire extinguisher is located.”
Mr. Dempsey said he had grown up in New York City and lived in many large cities in his life, but was not worried about being robbed or mugged. Instead his anxieties focused on “being in a crowded place” like a shopping mall or a movie theater where a gunman could wreak havoc.
“Something changed in this country after the 1980s,” he wrote. That is a large part of why he and his wife planned to move to Ecuador after they retire.
“When asked if I have any safety concerns about moving to South America, I always think to myself – you are kidding me, right?”
‘No one is safe in America’
Some of those who responded to our question were survivors of previous mass shootings. Jessy, 30, from San Francisco, was a student at Virginia Tech the day a gunman killed 32 students and classmates in 2007.
“Every time a new shooting happens, it reopens an almost nine-year-old wound,” she wrote. “If it happened to me, it could happen to anyone. I’ve long come to terms with the pain and loss, but the possibility is very real.”
Tara, 41, from Oregon, said she survived a shooting at the high school where she works. Since then, she has thought about the potential for another incident “almost daily.”
“I still startle every time I hear a loud bang,” she wrote. “I unconsciously move quickly away from young men in trench coats, or people with backpacks who seem nervous. I have to resist the urge to race to my children’s school and yank them out of class every time I hear another mass shooting has happened. I am terrified.”
“When I hear people say ‘That kind of thing just doesn’t happen here’, I get angry,” she wrote. “Of course it does – it IS happening.”
Linda McFadyen-Ketchum, 68, from Nashville, Tenn., said she thought of the possibility of a shooting “multiple times each day,” especially when she was at church.
“I think about it every time I climb the stairs to the choir loft at my church because a man came to church on three different Sundays with a gun a couple of years ago,” she wrote. “I have a dear friend who herself was shot in church eight years ago. Thankfully, she survived.”
“I think about it every time I think of my grandchildren at school, fearing their schools will be shot up,” she continued. “I despise having to plan an exit strategy for myself every time I go anywhere, but I do. I want to be ready to run when I hear the first shot. Some might called me ‘hyper-sensitized,’ but I call myself prepared and realistic. No one is safe in America.”
‘Gun violence is a literal threat we expect to confront’
We heard from several readers who worked in government facilities and worried that their offices might be a target. Kim Miller, 54, from Grand Forks, N.D., said that thoughts of gun violence were never far from her mind when she was at work.
“Child support has bullet proof windows,” she said of one department housed in her building. “The court house across the street has a metal detector because a judge was shot in the past. He survived and the man who shot him is in prison for life.”
“We have panic buttons on the phones in our offices because we work with mentally ill clients,” she wrote. “Within just the past year, we added security locks to the doors leading to the clinical offices.”
Amy, 43, from Tulsa, Okla., said she works in public health and thought about the possibility of a shooting “on a very regular basis.” Her office is located inside a government building and her work often takes her to middle school and high schools where anxieties about gun violence run high.
“My work takes me into middle and high schools daily,” she wrote. “When entering these schools, there is almost always an armed school police officer. I am often on site during ‘intruder on campus’ drills.”
“I refuse to live in fear and will not allow gun violence to deter the work that I do,” she wrote. “However, all of this serves as a constant reminder that we are living in an age where gun violence is a literal threat we expect to confront rather than a figurative fear that we read about happening to others.”
‘I feel like someone is going to shoot me everyday’
Anxieties about gun violence were complex for many Muslim-Americans and Americans of South Asian or Middle Eastern origin, who wrote to tell us they feared being harmed by a random shooting and being specifically targeted by a gunman or blamed for acts of violence because of their religious beliefs.
“Simply put, I feel like someone is going to shoot me EVERYDAY,” wrote Raj, 30, from Texas. “Whether it be a crazy terrorist or another crazy guy that thinks I’m a terrorist and wants to take justice in his own hands.”
“For example, every time there’s a mass shooting, people stare me down when I enter public places as if I had something to do with it,” he continued. “Therefore, I do not feel safe on a daily basis. I have to keep my head down because people THINK I’m Muslim and treat me accordingly.”
Shahbaz Khan, 41, from Connecticut, said he was worried about both gun violence and the “backlash” from those who might blame Muslims for acts of violence.
“Millions of Muslim-Americans are not only praying for the victims in California but also that these terrorists do not turn out to have any connection with Muslims, as it will make our families even more likely to suffer hate crimes,” he wrote.
Mariyam, 26, from Davis, Calif., said she worried that someone would shoot her because she wears a hijab, or Islamic head scarf.
“I think about shootings almost daily, in fear that one day I might be the victim of an armed Islamophobe or that a shooter may target the mosques attended by my friends and family in retaliation for some atrocity committed in the name of my religion,” she wrote. “I find myself constantly looking over shoulder and am even nervous if another driver on the road rides too close. There is a hardly a moment when I am not anxious about senseless violence.”
‘I try to keep my fears and anxieties in check’
We also heard from people who said they were not afraid of being caught up in a mass shooting, some of whom said they owned guns and believed they would be able to defend themselves if bullets began to fly.
Jeff, 25, from San Diego, said he had never felt anxiety about being the victim of a shooting.
“I concealed carry my handgun with me everywhere I am legally allowed to, and train frequently,” he wrote. “I feel adequately prepared to respond to violent attacks.”
Dan, who lives in Missouri and said he was older than 50, said he only felt afraid when he was not carrying a weapon.
“I am concerned when I have to enter a building unarmed, because that makes me a sitting duck for immoral, mentally unbalanced people like the last two cases,” he wrote.
Elliot, 30, from Minneapolis, Minn., said that he began to think about the possibility of being present for a shooting after a violent incident at a protest in his city. But he found comfort in statistics.
“While going about my daily life, attending large cultural centers and riding on mass transit, I don’t worry or even really think about it,” he wrote. “Statistically the chances of an event occurring are too small to affect my way of thinking.”
Kieran, 33, from Quincy, Mass., said he was more worried about car accidents and hard living than he was about gun violence. He said it was “irrational” to worry too much about mass shootings and terrorist attacks.
He said he had never been the victim of any kind of assault in his life.
“I am aware of the possibility but recognize it as remote enough that any thoughts or preparation for such an attack would be irrational and distract me from real threats to my immediate existence, like traffic accidents (which I HAVE experienced) or my own risky behaviors like drinking too much (quit three years ago), smoking (quit eight years ago), or eating unhealthy (been vegetarian for four months now),” he wrote.
“I try to keep my fears and anxieties in check and make sure I focus on actively improving my life instead of worrying about unseen threats that I can’t control,” he continued. “I see this approach to life as me doing my part to defeat terror – which is an emotion, not an organization.”
I guess I can take comfort in knowing I'm not alone? I always imagine what I should do in a given situation if someone starts shooting. I think about this at Target, at work, the grocery store, the gym, sporting events. I also must admit, it absolutely keeps me away from the big mall in my area at this time of year.
I, too, think about this constantly. I have anxiety for the opening of the Star Wars movie next weekend, which I have zero plans on attending, but just knowing how full those theaters will be of people excited to see it automatically makes me think someone is going to open fire at at least one theater.
I just saw a spot on the Today Show about guns and automatically started crying. Gun sales are at an all time high with record sales this Black Friday. New 24 hour gun channel Gun Tv will be launching soon. This isn't going away.
Post by partyinmytummy on Dec 7, 2015 7:44:11 GMT -5
My family and I currently live in Japan, near Tokyo, and I never feel this way when we are out and about. Sometimes when I'm on a particularly crowded train I think about what would happen if a big earthquake hit in that moment (similar to Tohoku in 2011). But really, that's it.
We moved here in December 2012, the same month as Sandy Hook. In addition to all of the other feelings I had when I heard about what happened, I remember feeling grateful that we would be here for four years and that *surely* something would be done about gun violence in the U.S. in that time frame. I cannot believe I was wrong.
My family and I currently live in Japan, near Tokyo, and I never feel this way when we are out and about. Sometimes when I'm on a particularly crowded train I think about what would happen if a big earthquake hit in that moment (similar to Tohoku in 2011). But really, that's it.
We moved here in December 2012, the same month as Sandy Hook. In addition to all of the other feelings I had when I heard about what happened, I remember feeling grateful that we would be here for four years and that *surely* something would be done about gun violence in the U.S. in that time frame. I cannot believe I was wrong.
We move back in August and I'm terrified.
Yeah, we have terrorist threats in Europe so those are everywhere. But I find myself thinking as bad as those mess with my head, I generally don't have to think about random Joe doing the exact same thing. It's too much having potential threats coming from all angles. I just told my H I don't want to go back to the States for the summer, but I feel only slightly less skittish here. And then I tell myself it's stupid because statistically it'll be fine. And then it all ends with me feeling totally crazy.
I was in a movie theatre on Friday and every time someone stood up to use the restroom, or someone came in late, or even an employee walked through to check the doors and floors, you could see everyone in the theatre watching them. I hate that we all have to live with the knowledge that there could be guns at every event and we wouldn't know it.
This article is spot on. I think about the potential for a mass shooting almost every day. Certainly every time I'm in a crowded place I wonder if someone is going to fly off the handle.
“I look at my kids and wonder if/how our days are numbered,” she said. “How much time do I have with them before something happens to one of us? When I’m at work and look at their pictures on my desk. When I’m driving home to see them.”
This is me, constantly. When my kids aren't listening and I get a bit harsh, my very next thought is, "what if they're shot tomorrow, and this is how I'll remember speaking to them?" I tell them I love them like ten times as I drop them off at school.
It's exhausting and depressing for me, for all of us, to live this way.
I have that same inner dialogue all the time and its a huge part of why I try to remember to say " have a good day, I love you," every time DS gets out of the car.
I always tend to scan for the closest exit in case of emergency, so that's nothing new for me. If I'm sitting at a restaurant I like to face the entrance so that I can see who is coming in and out. Same thing, I had these weird habits long before mass shootings were normal. I feel like the threat of gun violence should just be one more extremely unlikely situation to add to the list, and for the most part it is, with the single exception of dropping my kids off at school. I get a little nauseous and panicky every single time. I know that probably makes me more anxious than is strictly normal or healthy, but it doesn't interfere with what I let them do or don't do, so I haven't really addressed it apart from acknowledging my anxiety surrounding the issue.
“I look at my kids and wonder if/how our days are numbered,” she said. “How much time do I have with them before something happens to one of us? When I’m at work and look at their pictures on my desk. When I’m driving home to see them.”
This is me, constantly. When my kids aren't listening and I get a bit harsh, my very next thought is, "what if they're shot tomorrow, and this is how I'll remember speaking to them?" I tell them I love them like ten times as I drop them off at school.
It's exhausting and depressing for me, for all of us, to live this way.
I have that same inner dialogue all the time and its a huge part of why I try to remember to say " have a good day, I love you," every time DS gets out of the car.
Same here. No matter how harried our morning is, I make sure to tell them I love them as they get out of the car.
I am far more scared of a lone gunman than of organized terrorism. What can they do to us that we aren't already doing to ourselves?
There was a section in Freakonomics or maybe it was SuperFreakonomics that talked about the DC Sniper, and how if terrorists really wanted to make an impact with the greatest amount of fear and the greatest amount of economic disruption they could copy cat that across the US. It costs incredibly little to set up, requires almost no planning or coordination apart from obtaining 10 unmarked vehicles and a few rifles, and causes mass panic. And even if one person was caught, the rest would still be in play. It's a horrifying scenario.
I've also had the conversation with DH - if something happens while we're out with the kids, you get DS and I'll get DD. This is why, for practical purposes, I don't care much about the distinction between terrorist and shooter - either way, I'm living like this and I hate it.
While I do not think about myself of my loved ones being gunned down, I feel so overwhelmed and sad to know that it will happen to someone. The fact that these mass shootings are so common place now and there seems to be nothing that we can do to change it just makes me feel numb right now.
I am far more scared of a lone gunman than of organized terrorism. What can they do to us that we aren't already doing to ourselves?
There was a section in Freakonomics or maybe it was SuperFreakonomics that talked about the DC Sniper, and how if terrorists really wanted to make an impact with the greatest amount of fear and the greatest amount of economic disruption they could copy cat that across the US. It costs incredibly little to set up, requires almost no planning or coordination apart from obtaining 10 unmarked vehicles and a few rifles, and causes mass panic. And even if one person was caught, the rest would still be in play. It's a horrifying scenario.
Why do we accept this?? What is worth all of this??
I don't accept it. But I think it would take a new Constitutional amendment changing the 2nd Amendment to see any real change. And the NRA will never do something that might jeopardize Smith and Westin's profit margin.
Yep. I work on a campus, and it's on my mind daily. How I could get out of my work area, why can't they spend the money to make cell phones work in this basement so we could actually get the text alerts, why did a student leave their back pack outside of the restroom, will I remember the code word if I need to call UPD. Add that C is 5yrs old and asks about what will happen to him if I or daddy die now and then, and it's very nerve-wracking.
One thing that gives me comfort is understanding how data is extracted and/or how I want to define a mass shooting. To me, gang-violence and domestic disputes don't count. Yeah it's something I worry about but it's not as jarring as someone busting through a conference room at work.
Excluding those events, we've had 4 this year. 4. That's an average that goes back to 1985.
I, too, think about this constantly. I have anxiety for the opening of the Star Wars movie next weekend, which I have zero plans on attending, but just knowing how full those theaters will be of people excited to see it automatically makes me think someone is going to open fire at at least one theater.
MH and I were talking about this yesterday.
I also thought about going to the nearby mall on my lunch break today, but I've decided against it because I'm afraid.
I did think this was just something I thought about. I don't like to go to the movies because I like to sit at the top and if I sit at the top I'm the farthest away from the exit. I think I end up spending time planning an escape route vs actually watching the movie. I do this even with the grocery store, mall etc. It's exhausting.
Post by lexxasaurus on Dec 7, 2015 10:00:35 GMT -5
Every time I have to tell someone we can't give them benefits, they aren't poor *enough*, we are 6-8 weeks out on actually looking at their papers... I fear they will come back. I get scared when they reach into their backpacks. I get nervous when they rush off, thinking they might rush back in, but armed. I'm first point of contact, in a job where people are often in crisis when they come in, and I think about it every.single.day.
One thing that gives me comfort is understanding how data is extracted and/or how I want to define a mass shooting. To me, gang-violence and domestic disputes don't count. Yeah it's something I worry about but it's not as jarring as someone busting through a conference room at work.
Excluding those events, we've had 4 this year. 4. That's an average that goes back to 1985.
Is that only Counting incidents where 4+ people were killed? I find a random shooting where only 3 people are killed just as frightening, personally.
This is so terrifying and heartbreaking. I had dinner with my dad and my brother a couple of months back, and they're both Republicans. I never would have thought that one dinner could alter my relationship with my dad and brother so dramatically, but it did. The topic of guns came up, and I brought up how I read (on here) about schools doing active shooter drills, and it makes me so sad and terrified that my kids will go to school in two years and have to do this. I said I can't believe that nothing has been done. My dad laughed - LAUGHED! - and said that when he was in school they did bomb drills, so it's the same thing. I replied that I couldn't believe he couldn't see the difference between the two, and that he could sit there and think about each of his three grandkids and not think about how horrible it would to have them asking about shootings or drills, or much less go through them. He lives in Newtown, FFS, and is involved in local politics and was back in 2012, so he saw first hand how the town had to deal with everything. Then my brother said he and his wife are getting a gun and concealed carry permits. He said they want them for safety. I asked how it's for safety when you have a gun unloaded and locked away. He pointed out that if a gun is unloaded and locked away, it's not actually helpful if someone tries to break in, which is why they're not bothering with a lock box. It will be kept up high somewhere. I said that I'm not comfortable with my kids being somewhere that guns are accessible, and he said it will be up high, and if we come over "I guess you'll just have to watch your kids." So we won't be going there anymore.
I am just so sick of the selfishness and lack of empathy and common sense. I shouldn't be dreading the day that my kids are ready to go to school! I shouldn't be talking to my husband at night about how we'll deal with explaining active shooter drills. I think about when I went to school, and their experience will be nothing like mine. Now there are school shootings, social media to make bullying easier, cell phones, kids having sex at God knows what age (they were when I was in school, of course, but it seems to start younger and younger). I'm terrified of them growing up.
And the four people who aren't afraid--Dan, Elliot, Jeff, and Kiernan--are all men. Why is that? Are (white) men just irrationally confident that it won't happen to them? Or are they more likely to have a hero complex? Dan and Jeff seem pretty confident that they can blast their way out of any mass shooting. That kind of machismo is responsible for a huge amount of gun violence, IMO.
I have that same inner dialogue all the time and its a huge part of why I try to remember to say " have a good day, I love you," every time DS gets out of the car.
Same here. No matter how harried our morning is, I make sure to tell them I love them as they get out of the car.
Add me to this. I make it a point to give DD a hug and kiss and tell her I love her every day before she leaves for school. It always stresses me out a bit when our morning involves temper tantrums/discipline because I can't imagine thinking back on her last morning with us and remembering that it was full of yelling or whatever.
When we toured DD's current school all I could think was how easy it would be for someone to get in (the doors are locked, but they are plate glass so it would be no problem to shoot them out) and how there'd be nowhere for the kids to hide (the doors to the classrooms are also plate glass, with walls to the hallway that are about 50% glass, so a shooter would easily be able to see them inside and force his way in if wanted). I also worry about my son's daycare.
Yep. I work on a campus, and it's on my mind daily. How I could get out of my work area, why can't they spend the money to make cell phones work in this basement so we could actually get the text alerts, why did a student leave their back pack outside of the restroom, will I remember the code word if I need to call UPD. Add that C is 5yrs old and asks about what will happen to him if I or daddy die now and then, and it's very nerve-wracking.
I used to work at a medical school and I was terrified we'd dismiss the "wrong" student. They are under so much pressure and dedicated so much time and effort....they were like human pressure cookers. The main conference room we used for discipline hearings had one door (leading to a narrow hallway) and a set of glass doors leading outside. The goddamn glass doors were LOCKED (for our security, of course) and you needed a fucking KEY to open them, AND ONLY MAINTENANCE HAD THE FUCKING KEY!!! I beat the drum so hard to change the locking mechanism and everyone agreed that was a great idea, but it never happened. I was anxious every time I was in that conference room.
This article was posted when I needed it most, my anxiety about this has been making me feel crazy. Yesterday I was out shopping at Target when I suddenly had this overwhelming feeling of there possibly being a shooting. I was in the pet aisle and saw this open employee door and thought to myself I'd stay near that area so if someone started shooting I would run back there. When I heard about the San Bernardino shooting last week I was at work (a government building) and I just started to cry uncontrollably. I actually had to call my husband because I was so panicked over the idea of the whole scenario. People living their daily lives and then such horror breaking out... We don't do intruder drills at work, but I myself have come up with a plan of different escape routes if there were an active shooter in my building.
WTF kind of world do we live in?! It makes me so sad and sick to think that so many of us live in fear of gun violence and mass shootings.
“I look at my kids and wonder if/how our days are numbered,” she said. “How much time do I have with them before something happens to one of us? When I’m at work and look at their pictures on my desk. When I’m driving home to see them.”
This is me, constantly. When my kids aren't listening and I get a bit harsh, my very next thought is, "what if they're shot tomorrow, and this is how I'll remember speaking to them?" I tell them I love them like ten times as I drop them off at school.
It's exhausting and depressing for me, for all of us, to live this way.
Seriously. Every day when I drop them off, it flashes through my head -- what if? What if it happens today? I always make sure to tell them that I love them. And I breathe just a tiny bit easier in the summers or during breaks. Things cross my mind like, I'm glad their classrooms are so far from the front door of the school.
I'm in the same district as Columbine high school. I suppose that makes things a bit easier in that people don't say things like, "it couldn't happen here." And security and response planning has been on the radar of the district and local authorities for a very long time. That is both a slight comfort, and a terrible thing.