Lockdown

Well, you've heard about it on the news.
"School in full lockdown mode"

I've heard it many times. Never actually knew what it was like. Until now. I arrived at work about 2.

10 minutes later, as the 1st and 2nd graders were arriving in our program, a teenager (15) shot out two back windows of the high school that shares the grounds of our elementary school. We did not hear the shots.

I was talking to Sunshine, my co-worker, checking to make sure all our kids were there, when I saw a police motorcycle drive up onto the sidewalk in front of the school. He drove up in one hell of a hurry, with his lights flashing. Just as I turned to her to say something about it, the principal's voice came over the intercom.

"We are in full lockdown. This is not a drill."

We immediately (easily, calmly, smiling) moved the children to an area where they were not visible from the windows but went on with our activities. No reason to upset them.

I was astounded at the fierce protectiveness I felt for the kids in my care. I was ready to gather them all and hover over them to protect them if necessary. I felt bristly and ready to fight. Angry that someone would threaten them. The eternal maternal in me, I guess. They're MY kids four hours a day, and no one better mess with them!

Our area is located in such a way that we can see into one hallway along a glass wall. There was quite a bit of adult running back and forth for a minute or two. A custodian came and checked all our entry and exit doors and stopped to ask the boys if he could play with Legos, too. The kids laughed at him and he walked away, not really in a hurry. I think his demeanor was probably very calming for my kids, although they hadn't shown much apprehension or fear. Between the calm exhibited by the two of us, and the custodian, I think their worry was minimized. I wasn't scared at the time. Too focused on the children, I think.

It didn't occur to me until later that if that boy had just been angry and looking for any old target, I would have been available. I drove into the parking lot during the lull that happens between the time the cafeteria staff goes home and the buses start arriving. I was the only thing moving out there. Had I looked into the brushy area in the overgrown vacant lot across the street, it's quite possible that I would have seen him. He must have seen *me* arriving for work. That probably explains why I had bad dreams about people with guns, huh?

We were confined to a fraction of our usual space, but we have so many activities and toys that it wasn't difficult. We had a snack, as we do every day, but we had it on the floor, away from the windows.

My job is not with the school district. We're a private contractor. This means our telephone line is separate from the school line. Within 20 minutes, our telephone started ringing. It was evidently on the news very quickly. Our parents were calling, one right after the other. We reassured them that their kids were safe, but I can't imagine being the parent of a child in that situation. I would be utterly frantic. Until I could hold my child and see for myself that he/she was okay, I would be a total mess. We also received many phone calls from parents whose children are not in our care because they were unable to get through on the school phone. I can't imagine being the one answering the telephone in the office!

It occurred to me as I fell asleep last night that we're not just day care. We're literally responsible for the lives of more than 30 children, in ways I hadn't considered.

It was a strange afternoon. We had only 10 kids, because the 3rd-5th graders were in their classrooms until 5.

The lockdown was an hour. The lock IN was another two. I did not know there were different levels until this happened. What lockdown means is that: all windows are covered. Lights are turned off. Children must get under their desks and lie on the floor. Lock in means the windows are still covered, but the kids can move around the room. They aren't to go to restrooms or anywhere without an escort, however.

I heard from some of the 5th graders when they finally arrived that police officers had come to their classrooms and explained some of the situation to them so they knew quite a bit about what was going on. Our short ones weren't aware, we had decided to let their parents talk with them at home rather than tell them and have them be scared. As it was, only one of them had shown fear, and we were able to calm her quickly. She didn't cry or scream, but she was very apprehensive. I found that made me angry, too. Not at her, but at the nameless guy with the gun who had made her nervous.

Our parents arrived en masse at 5:20, about 20 minutes after their kids came down to the cafeteria. They were not allowed to drive their cars down the street, so were arriving on foot. They all came at once. There were tears from a few parents. Most days, they hug their children when they arrive to collect them, but yesterday, there were many children lifted off the floor and bear-hugged. At least two parents hugged US and thanked us for taking care of their children, too. I was touched by that. In the middle of their relief and joy at seeing their children, they took time to say thank you to us.

Well, no reason to go on and on and on (like I haven't already) but I feel I must say this.

The staff at the school is very professional. We saw many adults moving around, escorting children to restrooms, hanging 'we are in lockdown' signs on the doors of the building, and handling their responsibilities in a quiet, calm manner. They all looked relaxed, were smiling at kids, weren't running in a panic or harried and short-tempered. I feel that their professionalism kept the fear away from the kids, and I was impressed. So, so sorry for the necessity of drills and procedures and regimentation in the school, but very, very impressed.

However. I am angry at/saddened by at the world we live in. A world where children must be locked up to keep them safe because so many people, heads full of eels, can threaten them.