School administrators are understandably jumpy in the wake of December's massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Conn.
No sane human being wants to see a repeat of the carnage that happened that morning.
But how far do we go before we transform our schools into fortresses? And how far can we go in the pursuit of safety in our schools?
Well before Sandy Hook, Brattleboro Union High School tightened its security. Side doors are secured. Video cameras are everywhere. All visitors must sign in at the front desk. All school personnel have ID cards prominently displayed. An armed Windham County Sheriff's Department deputy is on duty as the school resource officer.
All these steps are reasonable, although a tad repressive. But that is the reality of public schools in the 21st century. We are a violent society awash with firearms, and that violence has reached into every corner of America.
Less than two months ago, a nation watched a storybook New England town undergo an unspeakable horror. If it could happen there, we thought, it could happen anywhere. Even here.
We all think: If there is even an iota of a chance that that heartbroken community could have seen a glimmer of a warning, surely they could have done something. If only.
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That was what administrators in the Windham Southeast Supervisory Union (WSESU) were probably thinking last week when they alerted parents to plans to increase security at all schools in the district, in response to an undisclosed threat.
The automated notification call came on a Sunday night, and caught parents and students off guard and invoking more reasonable questions. What was the threat? Is it safe to go to school? If not, when will it be?
Nobody had answers to these questions, and that's why, on the morning of Jan. 28, about half the district's students were absent from the schools. Confusion was the order of the day.
Big applause to school and town officials for responding on the extreme of keeping our kids safe. There is no doubt whatsoever that this response was motivated by the best intent, and that counts for a lot. Much has been made of the post-traumatic effects of a Newtown on the law enforcement and public safety personnel in that region. Avoiding such a scenario is undoubtedly paramount for those in our community who do those jobs for us and our children.
But a week in, as near as we can determine, the threat has not been resolved. Even though things calmed down by the end of the week, parents and students still have more questions than answers and no closure on a threat.
Will this be the new normal?
Will every threat be met with a response like this one?
How could the nature of a threat be urgent enough to throw a community into turmoil, yet not meet a standard for criminal consequences for the unnamed alleged perpetrator?
Put aside the actual threats of gun violence: one study shows that someone is 40 times more likely to die in an automobile accident.
But this scene is eerily reminiscent of the days following Sept. 11, 2001, a time following an act of unspeakable horror. A time when many of us were terrified to fly and thus put ourselves at higher risk by getting behind the wheel of our automobiles. A time when that hyper-vigilance prompted us to let down our guard and let our national leaders start a war under false pretenses.
The circumstances are different in their nature and certainly their scope.
What will this constant vigilance do to the educational environment of the schools over the long term?
And to the minds and hearts of our youngest citizens as parents struggle to balance preserving their innocence against protecting their lives?
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These are legitimate questions - not just for the town officials and employees whom we entrust with the care of our safety and well-being, but also for all of us, as a community. And we are craving the participation of school officials and town officials in this discussion.
Certainly there must be more of a framework about the nature of a threat that was strong enough to keep half the kids in this region from their own school.
Certainly there must be a more candid way to inform the public less coyly without violating the rights of the accused (one theory that we have heard as flat-out fact this week) or without impeding an ongoing investigation.
This point was backed up in Montpelier by testimony before the House Education Committee last week, during which Ken Page, the executive director of the Vermont Principals' Association, said that “what is absolutely needed is a coordinated approach to safety and responding to a crisis in our schools.”
At the same time, Page told lawmakers that schools shouldn't overreact.
Creating an atmosphere of fear will not make students or parents feel safer, he said; rather, all school personnel, from the janitors to the principal, should talk about safety honestly and in a way that maintains and cultivates close relationships with students and their families.
“Vermont, because of its size, is in a unique position to highlight not only school results but also school safety,” Page said.
It's easier said than done. Where to draw that line is a judgment call.
But that's all the more reason to talk about these issues. We can't have this essential conversation meaningfully if we have absolutely no idea what we are talking about (though that often doesn't stop people around here).
Is there a Vermont solution to the school safety conundrum?
And can the public become part of this debate instead of being totally insulated from it? If so, how?
We'll see in the weeks ahead.