“Dad, what if it happens in my school?”
“It’s not going to happen. It happened very far away from here.”
“Yes, but people here can get guns too.”
“Maybe, but the doors to your school are locked and no one’s going to come in.”
I’m just winging it. I have no idea what to say to my nine-year-old daughter, Liv, to alleviate her concerns. I tried to shield her from the story, but it’s everywhere and I was unsuccessful.
My seven-year-old son, Max, one would think would be more intrigued by this story since he’s into guns and fighting and superheroes. But this story is a bit too real for him to contemplate. Liv, on the other hand, is at exactly the age where stories like this really affect her.
“Dad, I’m scared,” Liv says as I tuck her into bed.
“Scared of what?”
“You’re not being honest with me.” This is the first time she’s ever said something like this to me.
“In what way?”
“You can’t promise me that nothing will happen.”
I take a deep breath and sit down next to her. The truth is I can’t tell Liv honestly that she will remain safe. I don’t know every kid that lives in the area. Some kid is likely an outcast socially. Some kid is likely angry. Navigating high school is hard and some kids will inevitably not succeed in making friends. Bullying will occur as it occurs everywhere.
Even if most kids won’t turn to violence, all it takes is one. One kid who’s mad at their teachers or friends, or mad at the school where it all started – their elementary school.
“You’re right, I can’t promise it, but it did happen far away from here. And there are thousands of schools around the country. 99.9 percent of them never have something like this happen.”
“How old were the children that were killed?”
“In fourth grade.”
“What were their names?”
“I don’t know. Tomorrow we can look it up together if you want.”
“What happens to their parents now?”
“I don’t know.”
“How old was the shooter?”
“18.”
“That’s so young. What was wrong with him?”
“He was obviously disturbed and angry.”
“Are there 18-year-olds around here that have guns?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. Guns aren’t as big here and they are where this happened.”
“Why didn’t they stop him?”
“They tried and eventually they shot and killed him. But it was too late. Look Liv, I can’t promise anything, but it’s a little like getting into a car. There’s always a small chance something bad will happen. But we can’t stay home and never drive anywhere. We have to live our lives. And be smart and be on the lookout.”
“On the lookout for what?”
“Bad people.”
“How do I know if someone is bad?”
“If a stranger tries to talk to you, don’t talk to them. If a stranger other than a police officer approaches you with a weapon, they’re bad.”
“And what do I do?”
“Run.”
“Is their school over now? Does the rest of the school go back to class?”
“I’m sorry, honey. I don’t know what the school is doing.”
“Did anything like this ever happen when you were a kid?”
“No. The first time it happened that I remember was when I was in college. It happened far away in Colorado.”
“How old were the people there?”
“It happened in a high school.”
“Do you have a gun?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t like them.”
“Maybe you should get a gun.”
“I’ll talk to Mommy about it, but I don’t think so. We have locks on the door and an alarm to keep us safe. And the police are right near by if we need them. It’s time for bed, honey. Mommy and I are in the other room if you need us.”
I kiss her on the forehead and leave.
The next day, I drive the kids to school. I pull up to the school. Liv is silent in the back looking out the window. Max is oblivious to the situation and gets out.
“Love you Dad,” he says.
I look at Liv and we make eye contact. We’re both thinking the same thing. There’s a very small but real chance something will happen today.
“Enjoy your day, honey. I’ll see you right after school.”
I hope.
—