RUN. HIDE. FIGHT.
Parent Leader Jamie Kelsey
Read more about parent leader Jamie Kelsey’s journey into gun safety advocacy for her local school district.
I recently had a terrifying conversation with my 10-year-old son. A couple of weeks ago parents and caregivers were notified that a child had brought a BB gun to our school. We were assured the matter was swiftly handled and without incident; however, this led to a conversation with my son that evening. I asked him what he would do if he knew that one of his friends had a gun or weapon of any kind at school. He froze. I assumed he was stumped or searching for the answer he thought I'd most want to hear. I assured him there was no right or wrong answer and that it might be hard to imagine since it's never happened to him before - that's why we were having this conversation. I was wrong. He turned bright red and tears filled his eyes as he began gushing that his best friend brings a gun to school. "BUT IT'S OK...” He assured me. “His parents were in the military, he knows how to use it, he only brings it for protection, and leaves it in his backpack!"
For the next hour or so I blindly felt my way through this conversation fumbling for the right words to say. I heard myself tell him how brave he was for telling me. His friend must be really scared for his safety to do that. Also, had he seen or held it himself? On the other side of the conversation, my son was also fumbling, and fraught with anxiety. I could tell he was wondering, if he would have to tell and if his friend would get in trouble.
Of course, my first instinct was to sound every alarm right then and there with administration and parents alike. My son would not set foot in that school again until I could be assured it was safe. I would have personally searched every backpack and cubby myself. There would have been nothing wrong with handling it this way; however, my son didn’t have to tell me this information, and if I wanted him to continue to feel comfortable opening up to me I knew I had to walk a finer line.
I listened to and validated his concerns. I had him help me craft what I would say to his principal the next morning. He wanted the principal to understand that his friend’s intentions were good and he should therefore be shown leniency, and he wanted anonymity for himself if at all possible. The elementary school principal, who was facing the possibility of discovering yet another weapon for the second day in a row, handled the situation with the utmost care, as well as efficiency.
Afterward, the principal called to brief me on the outcome, and it was determined that the child did not have a weapon in his possession that day. We may never know if he ever did. We both seemed to be grasping for some kind of closure or at least an explanation of what precipitated this strange chain of events that undoubtedly shook at least one other family to their core. Imagine receiving a call that your 4th grader would be called to the principal’s office, questioned, and searched for a weapon. But I remembered that a paper had recently come home making caregivers aware that the school had conducted an active shooter drill - Alert, Lockdown, Inform, Counter, Evacuate (A.L.I.C.E.). The principal and I both theorized that the conversation that took place between my son and his friend may have been the result of that drill. After all, even a 4th grader knows that classroom supplies aren’t much to counter a person with a gun. Why not fight gunfire with gunfire if you can?
As a 4th grade teacher, I used to lead my students through these drills. They can be summed up as RUN (evacuate), HIDE (lockdown), and FIGHT (counter). I never really considered the impact of these drills on my students. I shielded them from my own terror and knew that, if necessary, I could act as a human shield. As a parent, I hope an adult will shield my son in the event of an active shooter at his school. Yet even so, I resent the fact that they can shield him and be with him instead of me.
I’ve gone back and forth between impassioned rage and hopeless complacency. But I’m way past “Make it make sense!” I have my suspicions as to why the powers that be allow this collective trauma. Even when it affects THEIR OWN COMMUNITIES and kicks down the doors to THEIR CHILDREN’S SCHOOLS. I believe it is POWER and GREED.
I decided not to continue to stand by ineffectively wringing my hands. I asked myself, “What can I do?” I looked at information from Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America and Everytown for Gun Safety. I saw a suggestion to appeal to local school boards to implement a safe storage education program for families called Be SMART. Only one district in the metro has passed a resolution to provide parents with resources about secure gun storage. As a part of my community project, I've been supporting a school board candidate and becoming more involved with our local school district. This has given me a good introduction to begin working to promote Be SMART to my local school board.
Ultimately, if my son’s friend really did have access to his parents’ firearms at any point, a program like this might have changed that. I know three other friends of my son who have firearms in their homes. This is where I can start making a difference and my next project will be to ask the Independence School District to pass a resolution implementing the Be SMART program to educate caregivers about safe weapon storage.
If you’re interested in doing the same for your local school district, you can find more information about the Be SMART program here.
