What Has Changed—and What Hasn’t—Eight Years After School Gun Violence

Reflecting on the past eight years, I know I'm different from who I was before the fire alarm went off, and yet I am the same in so many ways. While it's always hard to see the forest through the trees (my mom always says this, and it's such a stupid saying), I remind myself of the good that came out of that terrible day: I kept 15 students safe, I got home safe and I was able to support my students over the years that followed. I also live with the bad from that day on a constant loop: I lost Jaime, Meadow, Chris and Aaron; I lost my sense of normalcy; and I lost so much time by not realizing how frozen and foggy my brain was. 

I have post-traumatic stress disorder, severe anxiety and live in a constant state of hyperawareness. I take anxiety medication daily. I see a trauma-trained and trauma-informed therapist. I’ve done EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) therapy. I don’t sleep well. I have had almost paralyzing panic attacks. I hate fireworks and make plans to be out of town for the big holidays—although my neighbors will find a reason to set them off on a random Tuesday. For those of us who survive, these are just some of the things we deal with, but there’s so much more that we don’t realize or recognize to talk about or seek help to resolve.

I don’t claim to be an expert or the MSD faculty/staff spokesperson. I can only speak my truth and hope it resonates with people. I’ve shared my story dozens of times not only through Share My Lesson, but also at every opportunity I’ve been given. I don’t do it to be in the spotlight or to have 15 minutes of fame. I do it because it’s important for people to hear these firsthand accounts, to listen to those who’ve experienced it. This is part of the reason why I created and host the Teachers Unify To End Gun Violence Podcast. I want to share these stories, amplify these voices and keep these repeated experiences of gun violence in the conversation. We need to keep gun violence in the conversation.

I've been open about my experience from the jump. There are things that have come to light over the years after some reflection, good therapy and time. There are things I wish I'd known then that would've made it easier to get to where I am now. There are things I wish I'd done, opportunities I wish I'd taken and things I wish I'd said no to.

I am grateful for the connections I've made. I’ve gotten to meet and speak with so many people who have come before me, and I’ve been able to be a support to those who have come after me. As I say on almost every episode of the podcast, we shouldn't know each other. Our experiences with gun violence shouldn't have happened. But they did, and we do know each other. I'm uplifted by their strength, fortitude and resilience. There's a comfort in knowing that you're not truly an island unto yourself.

This day never gets easier. The pain never goes away. The memories, nightmares, survivor’s guilt and mental health issues always remain—sometimes tucked away, sometimes front and center. You never move on, but you find a way to move through. You find “your people” and lean on each other. You have a support system and stick with these people. You find ways to cope with anxiety and panic attacks. You know that the bad days won’t last forever, and that it’s OK to not be OK.