Reflecting on a Solemn Anniversary

It's been about a month since I last posted. I have some good things to write about, but first I feel compelled to write about the 20th anniversary of Columbine. That tragedy has shaped the everyday reality and concerns of students and educators, and even though it has been two decades since the nation watched it unfold on TV, and we've had twenty years to learn from our mistakes and improve our safety efforts, we have failed, and we continue to fail.

I was in highschool when Columbine happened, and I remember watching every news station playing the footage of the students running from the school with their hands over their heads, to show they were unarmed. I remember going to the school library shortly after to read the TIME magazine that the faces of Eric Harris and Dylan Kleobold on the cover, framed by the yearbook photos of the victims.

My highschool, which was a small, private, Catholic, all-girls highschool, installed a camera and buzzer system right afterwards. And I felt alot safer.

The December after I got my first job in a school library, Sandy Hook happened. When we went back to school the following Monday, we were instructed not to bring it up, but if the students asked questions, we should try to be truthful and reassuring. I didn't plan to talk about it with my 7th grade advisory, but one of the girls immediately asked if we could talk about it because "it's almost Christmas time, but now those kids won't be opening presents." I don't remember the whole conversation, but I remember her saying that.

Last year, the nation watched again as teens fled from Stoneman Douglas Highschool in Florida.

I'm in a new school now, and during the new school year orientation, we had a two hour long training on active shooter scenarios. We have lockdown drills to practice safety procedures.

The day after our recent lock down drill, a kindergarten girl went running up to the library aide during recess, wanting to know what would happen if she was in the library and "someone tried to get in", where would they go?

Columbine's 20th anniversary is tomorrow, April 20th, and even though it should be a day of peace and reflection, we cannot escape what happened. Just this week, a teenage girl from Florida, who was apparently fascinated with Harris and Kleobold and Columbine, flew to Colorado, purchased a weapon and was considered a such a serious threat to safety that schools to perform lockout procedures and cancel school the following day.

Anyone who is familiar with Columbine knows that the school library is where the most damage occurred, and where most of the victims were found. And the librarians at both Sandy Hook and Stoneman Douglas pulled students and staff members in media storage rooms as danger loomed.

And every time I think about these events, and review lock-down procedures, I ask myself:

"When did this become part of a school librarian's job description?"

When did it become part of any educator's duties? Why is this still part of our reality when we've literally had decades to fix this problem? Can it even be fixed?

I love my job. I love doing book talks. I love planning STEM activities and makerspace projects. I love purchasing new books,, and seeing how excited the students get about them. I will gladly protect my students' rights to read, and their intellectual freedom, but no teacher should have to go into school worrying about what else we'll need to protect them from.

We can't keep hoping that "this one will be the last one".

I don't know exactly what the answer is, but I know we need one.