Lockdown

A few months ago, my daughter’s middle school goes into lockdown when I’m volunteering at their book fair. I am surrounded by many books and a dozen kids. I look around bewildered, unsure of what to do. The kids, on the other hand, know exactly what to do.

“Close the blinds, turn off the lights”, they instruct me.

I dutifully obey. I attempt to keep a composed exterior. I am completely flustered inside. The kids on the other hand are at ease and move about knowing how to proceed. They put their training into practice. They break into groups and squat down behind the bookshelves and tables. I wonder what to do with myself. I creep down under the table – a vantage point from where I can see most kids. I am the only adult in the room. That puts me in charge, I suppose. I hear snippets of their conversation:  

“The announcement didn’t say it was a drill”. “Didn’t it say it was a drill last time?” “You think it’s the real thing?”

My eyes widen in the dark. The door, I think. It doesn’t have a lock. I creep out slowly from my post and block the door with a stack of piled chairs. The chairs are heavy, but what if it is the real thing?

I marvel at the kids. They are composed, nonchalant and matter-of-fact. None of them seems to be particularly anxious. They chat and giggle in whispers. They know the drill. They do what they’re supposed to do. I look at them from under the table. It seems unfair that these sixth graders should be so well-versed in what to do in times like these. And that times like these should be such a normal part of their lives.

I request the kids to not play games on their phones and shush them to be quiet. I hear sounds outside. Sitting in the dark, a zillion thoughts dash through my head. How unfair is it for these kids to have to go through this? Is this just a drill? What is happening out there? Why would anyone want to hurt children in a school? What is wrong with our society? When did all this become routine? Will we always live in a certain state of paranoia? How do we teach our children to be prepared without being excessively anxious?

I huddle beneath the table with my thoughts for what seems like eternity. In reality, it is more like twenty minutes. It turns out the lockdown was activated accidentally. I am relieved that it’s over and that kids know what to do in times as these.

I read the news today. I question the mindlessness of an attack at a concert filled with youngsters.  

The same questions from the time under the table in a dark room, run through my head again.

I remember reading (a few years ago) how in reality, the crime rate in the US has not changed drastically in the past two to three decades, but given the nature of mass attacks, our perception and preparedness of it has dramatically changed. Not sure if it this still holds ground.

But despite the bleak outlook, I find hope in our youth -- the group of sixth graders, who did the needful, but didn’t seem terribly bogged down by it.

Perhaps this is their reality or at least their perception of it. And no matter how unsavory, I can’t but help feel there is hope given their tenacity and their ability to take things in their stride.