Are You Safe?

Last Friday, I was going to a restaurant with my best friend when I started receiving hundreds of texts and notifications on my phone. Through a combination of a few group chats, twitter screenshots, and phone calls, I realized there was an active shooter threat in the building next to my residence hall. I was safe off campus, but many of my residents were calling me from their rooms where they had barricaded themselves.

One of my residents told me the building was surrounded by police cars and a helicopter. Another called to tell me she loved me and to thank me for being an RA. I got hundreds of texts from them asking me if it was safe to even leave their rooms.

Meanwhile, many of my friends were contacting me to ensure I was safe. Most people are aware I am an RA in the first year area, so they were worried that I was in the direct area where it happened. Still other friends were scrambling to find safe spaces. My fellow dance majors in tech rehearsal hid in the basement of the theater for nearly two hours.

There was a distinct communication issue with the university that has already been addressed by our president and various other university officials. It was hard to manage the issue of an unconfirmed threat, but the lack of communication led to a campus-wide panic.

Too often, people complain about the use of technology among my generation. Yet, on Friday, it was the very use of that technology that allowed us to communicate throughout the event. In a moment of complete terror, I was able to text people to keep my residents safe and to let other people know I was safe.

How many times must we undergo such terror before we realize our country has a gun problem? The heart-sinking feeling I experienced on Friday was not new, and although I am so blessed to be alive and safe, gun violence has deeply affected my life. I do not enjoy movie theaters because of the Aurora theater shooting, and I am wary in large crowds. I love concerts, but I cannot shake the sense of unease I feel worrying about thousands of people gathered in one area.

There must be change, and it must happen soon. I am tired and overwhelmed by our inability to come together to save the lives of innocent people. Schools should not be battlegrounds, and professors should not be soldiers.

I am so thankful that no lives were lost on my campus. What started in pandemonium ended in utter relief, and I am eternally grateful for this.