
"As I waited in the long school pickup line, my daughter's father made an offhand comment about the necessity of school security guards. "Somebody shot up a Catholic school in Minneapolis today," I replied without a hint of emotion, as if I was describing the weather. Every year, there are signs of autumn's return: a peep of red or orange in the trees, apple picking, the return of the pumpkin spice latte,"
"I was in middle school when the Columbine massacre happened, and I distinctly remember watching the footage of children jumping through the windows in hopes of escape. It seemed as if the entire nation was outraged, stunned, and horrified. Pundits were quick to point fingers in all directions: at Marilyn Manson, Prozac, and inadequate gun control policies. It was all anyone could talk about for weeks and months."
"I am saddened to admit that I don't have the same level of outrage today. Today, when I see these headlines, I don't open the article. I am not surprised. I am no longer horrified. I am numb. As a nation, we have resigned ourselves to sending our children to school without a social contract that assumes they will not be shot. Perhaps we have reached a tipping point, but not the one we had hoped for. We have tipped over into despondence"
Frequent school shootings in the United States have become a recurrent feature of the academic year, prompting casual acceptance and routine references. Childhood memories of Columbine, Sandy Hook, and Uvalde evoke national outrage and debate, but legislative and cultural responses have fallen short of meaningful change. Parents report emotional numbing and resignation, avoiding headlines and losing idealism about school safety. Security measures and drills have become normalized, yet fear persists as communities imagine sending children to school without assurance against gun violence. The prevailing outcome is collective despondency rather than effective prevention.
Read at Psychology Today
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