Saturday, February 27, 2016
As I sat with my class of six-year-olds on Friday morning - cozily discussing the nuances of language - an announcement on the school loudspeakers let us know that a soft lockdown had begun.
Quietly the children stood up, walked over to their designated spots and hid. There was no need for discussion because they knew exactly what to do. When I turned back around after locking the classroom doors I couldn't help but feel impressed that they executed this drill so beautifully.
These drills are a testament to our unfaltering ability for adaptation in difficult times but they are also a sad commentary on the threat we are forced to accept.
When I joined the children a sleepy-eyed little boy calmly asked, "Is someone going to come in here with a gun and kill us?"
He was very matter-of-fact. He was curious but did not seem afraid. I tried to match his tone and reassured him that this was only a drill.
He responded, "Oh, good. I don't want blood all over the floor"
It was all a little too much to consider...for both of us.
Then he got quiet. I got quiet too.
I am still quiet.