In classrooms and hallways across the country, school shootings leave lasting trauma that doesn’t fade with time.
The terror of an active shooter drill becomes a real nightmare that changes the way students, teachers, and whole communities see their schools—places once meant for learning and growth. Survivors and those who grieve face a long, difficult path, wrestling with fears and questions that have no easy answers.
For freshman Isaiah Alaniz, the experience in school can be a daily struggle. “I feel like school emergency drills sometimes can be good and bad,” he said.
“I feel that parents feel nervous about sending their kids to school.” The drills make a lot of kids nervous, not just Isaiah.
You can see it in their faces, how they get quiet and tense when the lockdown signal goes off. Everyone is thinking the same thing, hoping it is just a drill. This worry follows them to the cafeteria and hallways, where they always feel like they must look around. They can’t shake that feeling of being on edge.
The problem affects students’ families and friends, too. Every day, students are worried about going to school, while the government is trying to figure out how to help.
As Freshman Luis Munoz explained, “I don’t feel safe going to school because it can happen at any time”.
He also feels that social media is not the right tool for stopping these events. For everyone to start feeling better, the community needs to work together. This will take time and a lot of care. Healing involves more than just the people who were directly affected.
Friends and families are also hurt and must figure out how to be okay again. It is a slow process that requires everyone to be kind and patient with one another. Many people are still scared, and getting back to normal will be a long journey.
Freshman Roman Sida was a chill guy, but sometimes he’d just say a bunch of things that didn’t go together. “But then,” he kept going, “when I see those news stories, with the little kids and stuff…” He trailed off, his face all scrunched up like he was trying to figure out a math problem he couldn’t solve.
“I think, yeah, they should ban them. At least for schools, you know? So, none of us have to feel like this.” He gestured around at all the kids, all looking a little too serious for a Thursday morning.
“Like, how can it be both, right? Not banning them, but also banning them?” I didn’t have an answer. Nobody did. It was a question that just hung in the air, heavy and sad, like the quiet that followed a siren.
The grown-ups on the news had their smart words, but here we were, and it just didn’t make any sense. We just kept walking to the cafeteria, pretending everything was okay, but we all knew it wasn’t.
“But then,” he kept going, “when I see those news stories, with the little kids and stuff…” He trailed off, his face all scrunched up like he was trying to figure out a math problem he couldn’t solve.
“I think, yeah, they should ban them. At least for schools, you know? So, none of us have to feel like this.” He gestured around at all the other kids, all looking a little too serious for a Thursday morning. “Like, how can it be both, right? Not banning them, but also banning them?”
For many, the wounds are not just emotional but also mental, showing up as anxiety, depression, and post-traumatic stress disorder. For some, school just isn’t what it used to be.
