School's out, along with shooting fear
Tragic academic year ends in relief for post-Parkland kids on edge.
When the final bells of the school year rang out Friday afternoon, students from Boca Raton to Jupiter, from Lake Worth to Belle Glade, poured out of their classrooms one last time, free of textbooks and teachers and term papers — and, at last, fear.
The close of this school year marks a merciful end to the bloodiest year of school shootings, including a horrifific one just the other side of the Palm Beach-Broward County line. Recognizing that students’ summer respite can be measured in days — just 72, to be exact — Lauren Bonich, a senior-to-be at Boca Raton High, offers advice for incoming freshmen that she never could have imagined saying when the 201718 school year began.
“Familiarize yourself with the campus as quickly as possible,” Bonich said. “The exits, the buildings, all of it.”
Some students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High in Parkland are alive today because of it. When the sound of gunfire echoed through their freshman building Feb. 14, they took refuge in a fenced-in area behind the school, fully aware luck was virtually all that protected them from a former student firing off an AR-15.
Six terror-filled minutes left 17 dead, including three faculty members. It was far from the first school shooting in America, but it represented a galvanizing moment across the country.
Parkland? The pristine, gated-community, we-love-our-children town of Parkland? Yes, it can happen there. It did happen there. So it was with a tinge of sadness, not shock, that when another deadly attack occurred three months later in Santa Fe, Texas, a TV reporter expecting a clichéd soundbite instead heard a student say, “It was eventually going to happen here, too.”
Harsh reality also visited Palm Beach Count y on Friday. The date didn’t just mark the end
of the school year, but the start of National Gun Violence Awareness Day, which extends through the weekend. Supporters are asked to make a statement by wearing orange and using the hashtag #WearOrange on social media. It almost goes without saying that scores of a new legion of student activists were eagerly abiding.
All across America, Lesson No. 1 for students was to accept “code red” drills as necessary preparation should their campus be next. A week ago, at one elementary school in Miami, first-graders were told they were practicing in case “a big dog” got loose, leaving one to wonder how many, even at age 7, were buying the ruse.
Two weeks ago, a fire alarm went off at Boca High. It was the same sound that preceded the shooting at Douglas. “Everybody just froze,” Bonich said. “Nobody really likes to admit they’re on edge, but it was so tense. It’s upsetting that a school isn’t seen as a safe place anymore.”
Today, it’s difficult to find any section of fencing on the Douglas campus — either around the perimeter of the grounds or inside — that isn’t adorned with banners of support from throughout the country and around the world. Grief counselors remain at work; as classes wrapped up one afternoon this week, two faculty members discussed their next PTSD therapy sessions.
It’ s within this setting that the Douglas High community has bonded closer than ever to support one another. Teens who had barely acknowledged one another while hustling between classes now lean on one another. Some, such as David Hogg and Emma Gonzalez, ascended national platforms for change.
Sunday afternoon, things will change. Douglas will conduct its graduation ceremony in Sunrise. That will be followed Wednesday by the bell signifying the end of the Broward school year for underclassmen, thus scattering what had been a natural support group.
Still, Willis May, the Douglas football coach, said, “They’re so glad to get out of there, it’s unbelievable, to be honest. They’re glad for the year to be over with. They want a break. They just want to get away from everything and enjoy the summer. You can imagine.”
A week after the tragedy, students at West Boca High braved a scorching sun to walk 12 miles to Douglas to participate in a walkout to protest government inaction. It was just one step in a growing movement that included a national “March for Our Lives” on March 24 to draw attention to issues of gun control, mental illness and school security.
“There are still a lot of people who oppose this movement and a lot of people who think that we really are just a bunch of silly kids,” said Christina Pugliese, a graduating senior at Palm Beach Central. “But when you’re passionate about something, you let your passion lead the way, you let it define you, and people will eventually understand why you’re doing this. This isn’t just a liberal issue, this is a human rights issue.”
Pugliese, who plans to major in telecommunications and political science at the University of Florida, said she considered herself a political activist before Parkland, but more of one now.
“I know I will be a political activist till the day I die,” she said. “I know that for a fact.”
Dajia Morris, a junior at Boca Raton High, said she seized every opportunity to protest and is confident that level of passion won’t wane in the fall.
“The kids at Park land are so motivated to make a change, we want to help them,” Morris said. “I think as long as we don’t stop talking about what happened, this movement will keep going until something changes.”
Dominique K. Allen, a recent Santaluces graduate, also sees no end to students’ resolve. Allen, who assisted in a voter registration drive, said underclassmen she talked to are “very passionate about school safety” for good reason.
“Most of them have younger brothers or sisters ,” Allen said.
Allen, who plans to study biomedical science sat Palm Beach State College and Florida State, said that while her debate teacher was expressing disbelief following the Santa Fe tragedy, her classmates took a different approach: “What’s our next step? How are we going to keep moving forward with our progress?”
One solution, offered by President Donald Trump but losing steam among South Florida educators, was arming teachers.
“Teachers a re people, too,” Allen said. “So they can have good days and they can have bad days. So if on one of these bad days a student does something that makes a teacher especially unhappy or frustrated or uncomfortable, do we trust them not to suddenly draw a weapon and just start shooting kids? And for a lot of parents that I know and I’ve tried to talk to, to get perspective on this, their answer was, ‘No, I don’t trust my daughter’s or my son’s teachers that much.’”
Police are scheduled to man entrances at Douglas High from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m. daily. But beefed-up security still didn’t prevent the shooter’s brother from slipping onto campus before being arrested in March. Meanwhile, at Santaluces, additional school resource officers were on duty.
“As time started to go on, it became more lenient,” Allen said. “I just really want the underclassmen to make sure that administration keeps up with making them feel safe. Because it’s on them to keep administration honest. I saw immediate, quick solutions, but I didn’t see any long-term plans that would make me, if I was still going to Santaluces, continually feel safe.”
For the longest time, Allen doubted there would be any sort of long-term boycott by students to force improved safety. Now, she’s not so sure.
“It might go as far as, ‘We’re not coming back to school unless we know that we’re going to be 100 percent safe on campus, or as safe as administration can possibly make it for us,’” Allen said.
Donald Fennoy, superintendent of Palm Beach County schools, said he had not heard of a movement gathering steam locally.
Fennoy pointed to several steps being taken to enhance security. The“most obvious ,” he said, is stationing an officer one very campus next year. In addition, efforts will continue until every school has a single entry point; teachers will undergo safety training; and all school personnel will take a mental health first-aid course to help early identification of depression or at-risk behavior.
Future schools will be constructed as “closed campuses,” he said, “and built with safety and security as a priority.”
Back at Douglas, the football team recently concluded spring practice minus a beloved coach. May hasn’t replaced Aaron Fei s, hi s offensive line coach who was hailed as a hero for sacrificing his life to shield students from the bullets. May isn’t sure if he will entrust anyone to fill Feis’ role, just as he isn’t sure what the vibe will be like when classes resume at summer’s end.
“That’s a good question,” May said. “It will be interesting to see. ... You hear some people talk and they think there’s going to be a lot of kids not coming back to this school. They’re going to end up going to different places, private schools.
“You hope that everybody comes back.”