Last week, my twins in the sixth grade experienced a situation that felt all too real but thankfully ended without tragedy. Just forty-five minutes before the school day ended, I received an automated call from the principal. She informed me that a verbal threat had been made, police were present, and while everything was under control, the “students had shown remarkable courage.” My mind raced—should I rush to the school? Were the buses still operating? Why was there no further information?
As I contemplated these questions, my phone buzzed incessantly with messages from other concerned parents. We attempted to communicate through our private class Facebook page, only to find our inquiries swiftly deleted by the administrators. This censorship only amplified our anxiety, as rumors flooded in from all directions.
When I finally picked up my children, they were equally confused. The information they had was inconsistent, and because they had been instructed not to discuss the situation, they assumed the worst. They were terrified, retreating to their beds, fearful of returning the next day. I spent the evening pacing and reaching out to other parents for clarity. Eventually, I found someone who could provide verified information to help explain things to my children. Finally, the principal released a Facebook update that offered some much-needed context.
In reality, there was no shooting or even a firearm involved. A troubled student, who had been bullied, made alarming threats about bringing a weapon to school to “harm as many people as possible.” Thankfully, other students reported this to adults, who alerted the authorities. The boy was taken into custody and will likely face a series of legal and educational consequences, including potential expulsion and therapy.
The reality of our situation is unnervingly fragile. One moment, I felt secure, and the next, I was jolted back to awareness of the thin veil that separates our everyday lives from chaos. It was as if, for an instant, my heart and those of my children were pulled away from us, leaving us shaken.
I had been upset by the way the school communicated the event, but soon realized my frustration was misplaced. Beneath the surface of our so-called “non-event” lay a much deeper and more disturbing issue. If this were just a rare close call, we would take a moment to appreciate our vulnerability and move on. However, this incident resonated with a different kind of dread.
Throughout the online discussions, I noticed a troubling sentiment among parents: “It was just a verbal threat, and everything was handled correctly.” While I appreciated the school’s efforts, this perspective feels dissonant in light of the broader epidemic of violence we face. The alarming frequency of school shootings—alongside other tragic events in places of worship, entertainment venues, and public spaces—has stripped away the innocence of what it means to go to school or enjoy communal activities in this country.
We often lament how common mass shootings have become, yet when we face a near-miss, our responses seem almost numb. I can’t blame the school or the parents for their reactions; this lack of outrage reflects a deeper societal malaise. Many of us may feel too defeated to voice our concerns or may be silently grappling with our fears.
Protocols, drills, and counseling services offer a semblance of safety, but the truth remains: no child is truly safe in our current climate. I am grateful that the principal took action to protect my children, but I hold no illusions that schools can guarantee their safety or survival.
Advocates like the Parkland students who founded March for Our Lives and the Sandy Hook parents who produced impactful campaigns for gun control do so not just for their lost loved ones, but because they understand the urgency of our situation. We are all precariously balanced on the edge of tragedy, and this reality must provoke a serious conversation about the state of safety in our schools.
Every school in America is on the brink of becoming the next Parkland. We must confront this truth from a place of awareness and take steps toward meaningful dialogue about how to change our current circumstances.