Preparation outweighing prevention

The day of the mass shooting in San Bernardino, Calif., my son’s high school was placed on a short lockdown. He was nonchalant when I picked him up. “It was just a Level One,” he said, brushing off my concerns. “Everything’s fine now.”

I listened attentively as he explained the difference in lockdown levels: A Level One is when an active shooter is in the town or city; a Level Two is when the shooter is in the neighborhood; and a Level Three is when the shooter is actually on campus.

During a Level One, my son explained, teachers lock their classroom doors and lower the blinds. Some continue with the day’s lesson plans. Others choose to take the more extreme measures required during a Level Two or Three. They turn off the lights and instruct the kids to turn off their cellphones. They ask everyone to gather silently in the corner of the room farthest from the door and windows.

Once they’re given the all-clear signal, teachers may take additional time away from instruction to discuss what just happened, knowing that it’s hard for kids to snap right back to Latin or biology when they’ve just been contemplating a shooter on the loose.

In the wake of the Sandy Hook attack, the Department of Education released guidelines for school emergency plans. The goal is to minimize the “freeze” response, which can prove fatal. Instead, participants learn to “Run, Hide, Fight.”

Preparedness is key. But there are possible downsides to these morbid war games. For starters, we don’t know how kids may respond to them in the long term. And they scare the hell out of the community.

Teaching kids to “Run, Hide, Fight” reinforces the nihilistic view that mass shootings are inevitable, diverting energy from the struggle to stop them. We need more than preparedness; we need prevention.