Spikes and Cleats

Those of you who have followed my blog long enough have probably figured out my secret identity: I am a high school teacher and coach.

I walked out beside my students and athletes on March 14th, and I marched in support of them at one of many March for Our Lives sister marches yesterday because something has to change. Something should have changed a long time ago.

I don’t know how many lockdown drills I’ve done in my career, but I remember the one our administrators actually managed to keep secret from the students- and how panicked they looked, how white their faces got, how shakily they asked me if this one was real. I remember sitting in class with a group of students this past fall who said they could all die and nothing would change- Sandy Hook had taught them that, they told me- and later that day my athletes all said the same thing. They deserve better than believing they are valued so little. My parents, who already worried about their son getting shot in a war zone, deserve better than worrying about their daughter getting shot in a classroom. My country, which I love, deserves better than mass shooting after mass shooting.

And, if- God forbid- a gunman ever did come into my school, no “good guy with a gun” would be enough to stop the trauma; there was a good guy in Maryland- a police officer, who did an incredibly brave thing- and a girl still died. 

The only thing that will stop a gunman is him not having a gun. 

And, yes, we can make that happen without tearing up the second amendment; there’s data and evidence from all over the world to back that statement up. And if you’re thinking, “Yeah, but, Katie, we need to get to the root cause of the violence. Stop focusing on the weapon,” I say, yeah, we do need to get to the root cause. We need strong mental health services, and familial supports, and looooong and frequent conversations about toxic masculinity, and serious cultural change.