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The op-ed piece on this page in yesterday’s paper hit a specific nail on the head with the main question from a child after experiencing his first lockdown drill in kindergarten: “Why do I have to hide, Mommy?”
If you are old enough, your memories of school are vastly different from the memories being made today. Part of that comes from the dramatic influx of technology. Smart boards, smart phones, computer pads and laptops are ubiquitous. Instant wireless internet access throughout a building has become a must-have, something that has actually been difficult to set up in older buildings, hastening their obsolescence. But something else has made those old buildings hard to stay in: Security.
Of a certain age, you can remember when students had the choice of eating in the cafeteria or walking out the door and heading home for lunch. You noshed, washed it down with some milk, and walked back to school. Once there, you just strolled in through any of multiple unlocked doors, unlikely to meet a single gatekeeper.
Now, older schools scramble to install “security vestibules.” We are already past basic metal detectors and seeing an influx of vastly more sophisticated machines that quickly scan for suspicious objects as students walk through without stopping, the equipment capable of being calibrated to catch even very small objects.
New schools have these vestibules built in, increasingly using bullet-proof glass. Security cameras are everywhere. All outside doors are permanently locked, with systems tracking when they are opened and whose security card was used to open it. It’s routine to find common areas that may be used after hours by students and or community groups — gyms, auditoriums, cafeterias — sealed off from classrooms. School districts have entire security forces, increasingly armed, and sometimes given access to rifles so they can respond to greater threats.
Once, all that security provoked public protests. In Luzerne County, Hazleton Area was the first district to propose a full security force, and the School Board faced fierce pushback. These were schools, not prisons, the public cried. Now, the outcry comes when there isn’t an armed officer in every school, when there aren’t cameras, or when a door is left ajar too long.
There was a spell when new schools were given an “Open design” that allowed greater flexibility in classroom layout and student interaction. Now such architecture is seen as a security risk, giving intruders too much access, too many places to avoid direct line of sight by responding law enforcement, and giving students too few places to hunker down and lock doors to stay safe.
And decades ago, the only safety practice came when old bells clanged, and students filed out of rooms, down the halls, and out the doors in an orderly fashion for a fire drill. The concept of a “lockdown” was unimaginable.
Now, along with all the security features (regularly updated), schools hold extensive “active shooter” training both for law enforcement and staff. They hold drills for potential lockdowns, teaching children as early as kindergarten how to hide in the corner of a locked class, a bathroom, or even a special section of the building set up for such security.
And as guest columnist Nicole Williams pointed out, this led her child to ask a question after his first such drill. “Why do I have to hide, Mommy?”
She didn’t have an answer. So far, no one really has. But it’s a question we as a nation need to start asking, without the politics of gun rights, “wokeness” or anything else getting in the way of honest introspection. Just explain why we can’t come to terms with school gun violence and find real solutions.
Because the real answer to the child’s question is: “You shouldn’t.”