I have tried for the past three days to find the words to both celebrate the first day of school for my 9th and 12th grade boys…while also tempering the tragedy that happened on UNC’s campus Monday.

I remember on my son’s first day of kindergarten he was in the bathroom when the fire alarm went off. It was a single bathroom connected to his classroom. The alarm was inside the tiny bathroom lighting up and deafening–he stood there paralyzed and terrified. That alarm combined with his fear made an imprint that is still present today.

Monday was the FDOS for kindergartners in Chapel Hill and Carrboro schools and they were taught in real time what sheltering in place looked like while an active shooter was in the area. Sadly those kindergartners’ first lesson on their first day was connected to fear. A subtle message was sent: school is not always safe. Many of us may have similar imprints from fire drills or from huddling in hallways ducking and covering. We might even dismiss this lesson to our little ones as part of life as it currently is, but I think that would be a mistake.

On Monday around 1pm UNC parents received texts and calls from their college students terrified hiding under desks, crammed in to bathrooms and closets. Students received disturbing news intertwined with rumors which led to chaos that lasted for 3 hours sheltering in place. Kylee’s suite mates later discussed how tragically normal and numbed they are by the protocols; they know what to do: lock the door, turn off the lights, move to a non-visible corner of a room, hide in offices or bathrooms. They knew it too well and were too ready. And yet when you get the text from your child that there is an active shooter on campus, and they are being asked to shelter in place for 3 hours the protocols do not bring comfort, students do not feel safe or ready.

There is much to be grateful for–the first responders, brave professors and students looking out for one another. There are really wonderful stories connected to this tragedy (as there always are in situations like this)–there are wonderful helpers who quickly showed up on campus to care for those traumatized, to check in, provide meals, counsel and prayer. There were phone calls and care packages and kindness extended and in all of these actions I find hope. But this still feels so incredibly unnecessary. There is a hauntingly hollow quality to the conversation. There is a resignation: “This is just the way things are. This world is crazy.” I am not oblivious to the complexities of this tangled web we have woven as a society. I recognize our allegiance to history and freedoms we have received from the past. I recognize there is currently a mental health crisis. I recognize that this is all a very difficult needle to thread. Ironically, one of Kylee’s college essays for UNC was a conversation surrounding gun legislation. She was concerned for her brothers and for the tiny people at Apex Friendship Elementary and the protocols they were learning before they learned to read. Some of her first words to me voice to voice were concern not for herself but for the children in the Chapel Hill and Carrboro School systems that were being asked to shelter in place on their first day of school. I have great hope for this next generation. They are seeing so many of our systemic problems and want to make a difference. But it is not lost on me that more needs to be done now. We need to to be looking out for our little ones–we need to care that deep imprints are being made–imprints that may not surface until later in life.

The FDOS for my 9th and 12th grader on Monday went great. It was business as usual. It was who so and so sat with at lunch, and tales of a zany teacher. It was a wonderfully uneventful day. To some the stats may not feel significant enough to really invest and make changes to our systems, but I am convinced the ever present fear that our children hold in their hearts (whether there is an active shooter or threat of one) remains to be an unseen devastating force in our society. My son’s fear connected to loud sounds and fire alarms is one that hopefully will help prevent tragedy connected to a natural disaster like fire, tornados or hurricanes. Monday’s disaster was not natural in any way. The FDOS after 1pm in Chapel Hill and Carrboro schools did not involve recess, painting or playing with Play-Doh. It potentially for many made an imprint of fear and hyper-vigilance that we may not fully gauge for many years to come. School is supposed to be a happy and safe space. We can do better. Change is not on our children’s shoulders. Change starts with us.