Take a Bullet?

       Throughout most of my career--I began teaching in 1983--the question would have seemed absurd. I don't think it would ever have come up in an education class, and I can't see undergraduates chewing on it during a bull session in the dorm. Perhaps the only place I could have imagined it would have been contemplated is in a philosophy class focused on ethics, one of those topics such as "Is it wrong to steal if your family is starving?"

       The question: Would you take a bullet for a student?

       Once again, people who work in education must struggle with that gut-wrenching question as we grieve over yet another school shooting where an adult did just that.

       Is there a right or wrong answer? If there is, it eludes me. At one of the schools where my wife worked, they were told to decide on their answer to this question so they would have the choice made in case the situation ever arose. I doubt that works. We can believe something intellectually, but I'm not sure it would hold in such a terrifying, adrenaline-packed event. Instinct likely would kick in. Plus I think the details of one's one life shift in ways that affect the answer. Before I was married and had children, I probably would have said yes. Once I had children, likely not. Now that they are 18 and 21, well on their way, perhaps. I want to believe that I would. That I could. But I'm not so sure.            Do any of these answers make me a lesser person? Would I expect more of another educator for my kids than this? What should we expect? The work, when done right, already wrings plenty of raw emotion out of caring people. Now this former nightmare has become a common reality, so much so that it fades from the headlines more quickly than Columbine did. There was an entire book written about that tragedy; now the media moves on after a few days...until the next one. We drill and train, hoping that it might help, telling our students it's just a drill and they don't need to be scared, knowing they know the truth. Each time we practice, each time the tragedy strikes, it feels even more possible that it could happen to us.

       I don't know how one erases that fear. Arming teachers is not the answer. Even greater, stricter security measures might help, but I don't think it's an answer. We don't want our schools beginning to resemble prisons. Providing resources for how to talk to children about tragedy feels like mere salve on much deeper wounds. With the number of guns already available through various means, I think that only lessens the odds somewhat.The political system seems so gridlocked and self-serving that we can't count on anyone there.

       In the wake of the Parkland shootings, some have argued that "things feel different this time." I agree in some ways. Much of that has to do with the reaction of the students, who have responded with fierce determination to bring about change. It's pictures and videos of gun advocates destroying their weapons. Of course, we've seen various hashtag movements through the years that eventually simply echoed through the vastness of cyberspace. And already some have begun trolling survivors and their family. I've even seen some invoking conspiracy theories. It's all too reminiscent of Sandy Hook--the school shooting which was supposed to be the final straw.

       Meanwhile, when educators should be focused on figuring how to help their students become their best possible selves, we have to think about survival tactics. We have to ask ourselves, Would you take a bullet for a student? Could you? That no longer just seems absurd. It is absurd. And we risk school becoming another performance in the Theater of the Absurd.