Drill

I have been volunteering in Charlie's classroom on Tuesdays.  Mostly because my parents always modeled the importance of being involved in your kids' schools, and by God, if  I am going to be judged based upon my children it is going to be for inappropriate parenting, not uninvolvement in their classrooms.

I like going in and working with the first graders, helping them do things such as form more coherent sentences than our commander in chief is apparently able to and differentiating between long o and short o.  Of course, Charlie gets a kick out of me being in there because I am still cool in her eyes.  All to change in the next few years, I am sure, because Alexis sure as hell is sliding into "my mom is embarrassing as fuck" territory at an alarming rate.

Most days, this is mundane and routine and I leave and drive to work, no problem.  Today was not one of those days.

The fire alarm went off.

It has been documented that I have a propensity to attract fire and apparently have magical dragon powers, minus the scales.  I've not talked yet about how meaningful fire alarms are to my family, mostly because I keep forgetting to do so, but just know that they are.  Most of the time, fire alarms are a good thing for us (minus, of course, any actual fire.  That would be bad, probably.). 

Except.

Valentine's Day, 2018.  Florida.

Those kids in Charlie's class, man.  They had no fucking clue that when that alarm went off, I was internally freaking.  Now, the teachers seemed to know that there was going to be a fire drill that day (do they tell teachers this shit in advance?  I hope so cause that would really suck to be in art class taking a cast of your arm or some shit and have to haul ass outside dragging that with you...).  But...will there forever be that lingering doubt in their minds, that there is some asshole with a gun waiting out there to pick them all off?  What about times when the alarm goes off, because some kid pulls it, or God forbid, there is a real fire?  Will there always be that doubt in the back of their minds that they are actually going to safety, or to their worst nightmare?

What the fuck?  What the actual fuck?  How are we OK with this?  How is it OK for a scenario that would (let's be honest, here, cause it's me and I am a bit crazy...) normally just be my own personal crazy running through my head be an actual, possible, real life thing?  Hell, I freak out hearing an ambulance internally, convinced that my husband and/or children are dead.  It used to be hell working next to the hospital, when life flight came by and every single time I'd panic on the inside, thinking that maybe this time Charles really lit himself on fire good, or one of the kids fell and broke their neck on the playground, or, or....

Those are not realistic thoughts.  I am fully, 100% aware of this, and dear sweet mother of God if I could control them even starting in the first place I would.  But the fact that a shooter could pull an alarm and pick off my children, and everyone else's children...this actually happened.  THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED.

I look at those survivors from Florida.  You know, the kids that people decry as lazy.  As disconnected from actual human interaction.  As entitled, spoiled brats.  They are charging full speed ahead and making their voices heard, even as people try to discredit them as "too young".  These "too young" people have gone through hell because of the adults around them failing to act. And I have to admit, I am ashamed to be an adult right now.  We failed these kids.  We failed to recognize that perhaps an 18 year old is NOT mature enough to purchase an AR as their brain is not even fully developed until age 25.  We failed to acknowledge that domestic violence is a HUGE red flag for mass shootings.  We failed to protect the very future of this country, our most precious resources, because it is not financially wise for politicians to do so if they want to further their careers. 

We failed.  And until this country is willing to accept and acknowledge this...I fear that we will continue to fail.  And that, my friends, is a scary, scary prospect.  The stakes are too high.  For all of us.