I fear that the public schoolhouse is no longer a safe haven for our children from the threat outside the walls of the school. Unfortunately, we’ve grown to expect that violence can erupt with or without provocation from within the walls of our schools. What can we do to better protect our children and those who give their lives and careers to teach them? How do we ensure we’re strong enough to provide a security network designed to buy precious seconds when the unimaginable occurs?

When seconds count, can we withstand the forces of violence … can we win the day? And with so many districts with their own fears and their own approach of responding to the potential for violence, can we create language such that all of us work in agreement relative to those foundational principals which guide us in creating safe schools? My favorite quote is from Christopher Reeve who stated simply that “all of us need to help all of us”; when it comes to this issue of safety and security, he sure got it right.

In our school district we think in terms of people, processes, and technology when creating a security plan. People come first in the plan: a school of committed and caring professionals can do more for the safety of children than a thousand cameras. Next come processes: from visitor registry to movement within the building, an effective process gains needed control. Finally, technology provides eyes and ears where people cannot go; from cameras located in “hot zones,” to motion sensors and keyless entry, this technology offers us the opportunity to capture footage and serves to deter the would-be offender in the first place.

Of course, this security plan costs money. Frankly, not every district will see the vision that we’ve seen; not every district will have the funds to allocate to the fulfillment of that vision once seen. Though we may not have the needed money to purchase all of these pieces of security, we all know we must manage well what we do have in place … what we can afford to do. And that starts with training campus personnel. With or without the security technology … we must train!

I think we have a good security network in place: We have entry control; visitor identification software; cameras; campus officers; School Resource Officers; motion sensors; 24x7 security patrol and dispatch … and we tie it all together with training. That’s good security … we think we’re ready to positively engage visitors should they be found in and around our buildings; likewise, we think we’re alert enough to catch the exception to the norm such that we can sound the alarm for immediate support.  In most of our schools, our teachers instruct with their classroom doors locked, ever mindful that a stranger could slip into an unlocked door and change destiny. Combined, that’s a security network indeed! And while we think we’re ready, I’ve hired a security firm to conduct “see what we see” audits of our schools … audits designed to find that single point of failure that’s inherent within each security plan.

In conducting these audits, the team will enter a school completely unannounced (I don’t even know when it’s going to take place). At times, two people will enter together; one might appear to be busy on a cell phone call, the other might seem to be a wise old grandfather. While they don’t attempt the extraordinary in by-passing our security procedures, they do make it their ambition to get past the front office without checking in via our visitor identification system; and then they see what they can see by simply walking all about the campus. They want to see if the campus security officers will stop them, if SROs will engage them, if teachers turn away from them without noting whether or not they are wearing the Raptor visitor badge. They want to see if students will allow them access when they should not.

If our people are doing their job in providing a safe and secure environment, no stranger or visitor to a campus will go unnoticed who does not have a current visitor badge. People will not be allowed to mill about our students unless and until we know who they are and what business they have in our schools. We’ve trained to this end; we continue to train with the intent that each of us has the primary charge of safeguarding the campus from strangers.

I was fortunate to hire a “former” Marine as my Security Lead (as many of you know – and all of us should appreciate – there’s no such thing as an ex-Marine ~ once a Marine,  always a Marine). He recently shared a concept from combat operations known as the “Commander’s Intent.” Relative to any and all battle plans, the commander would state the intent of the battle; that is, he would state the goal of the mission. As well, elements of the battle plan would be listed, giving directives to various units. If, however, in the heat of battle the enemy were to knock out elements of this plan, the field commanders would always have the intent of the battle in front of them, guiding them as they modified their actions in order to achieve the goal of the battle. The point is that each field commander was empowered to make decisions as needed within the major scope of operations in order to achieve the objective. Likewise, within each of our districts, we need to establish the “Commander’s Intent” as we move forward with creating our safety and security plan. It needs to be comprehensive and inclusive of each element or department … a puzzle in which a security network is established – connected; interrelated; complete. But it needs to allow our field commanders – those principals, directors, managers – room to modify the plan when faced with obstacles to best achieve the mission. We empower our people to use their judgment based in experience to bring about our desired objective of a safe and secure environment.

You see, cameras don’t stop crime; neither does technology such as keyless entry, motion sensors, or visitor identification. Oh, each piece mentioned has a corrective nature; people see the camera looking back at them and pause … of that, there’s no doubt. Yet, as has been proven too often through enacted school violence, if a person is bent on destruction, technology will not stop them. It’s people who matter most in our security plan. It’s people who have intuition such that notification can be made buying responders precious seconds. I know of no school person who would not fight for their students. Neither do you. And yet we tend to de-emphasize our training because we don’t have the time, money, or will. May it never be said of us that we’ve become apathetic to the very real risk that we face – and our students face – on a daily basis.

Listen, not every district can designate millions to purchase security technology. But every district can train their personnel to respond effectively to any number of threats. And that training in our district has taken on the aspect of the unknown! Without notification, we conduct lockdown scenario training with our schools. No one, save a key central administrator, knows we’re coming to the school. And no one, not even the administrator, knows our scenario. When the training begins, we get to see how our folks respond to stress produced by threat. Then we get to talk about it. To the person, every teacher involved has thanked us for this training.

The crime we’ve seen elsewhere could visit us today.  Just ask the people at the University of Northern Illinois, or Virginia Tech, or Platte Canyon High School, or Columbine, or Beslan, Russia, or Finland, or any number of the hundreds of schools across this world who have suffered deeply, terribly, from abject horror. Each would implore us to action in pursuit of readiness. If you and I knew that violence would visit our schools next week, we would absolutely engage this matter. If we knew that an active shooter would unleash his anger on our students, we would make ready those students and our schools to thwart this action and protect our people. Or, if we knew that a tornado would bear down on us with mere seconds warning, we would practice now in hopes of saving precious lives. There would no longer be anything routine about our planning for crises.

Since none of us knows for certain if or when any of these events will take place, we’re reticent to practice, to prepare. We would rather direct our attention to teaching and learning … after all, this is public education. Still, we all know that students cannot thrive in an environment of threat and fear. Kids know when we’re ready; they see that we’re rehearsing; they feel safe when they see us practicing safety. They are counting on us. On you … on me. (And may they never again hear the words, “Teachers, we’re in code blue!” It’s “Lock down; teachers, we are in lock down … lock down the school.”)

People first. Process second. Technology third. All important, but none as important as our people.

Train as if the unthinkable will occur tomorrow. Hire a person unknown to others to conduct your own “see what we see” audit. Buy the cameras. Buy the visitor identification software. Buy the controlled access. Put officers in your schools. Train your people. Give it your best effort. Do it now. And share your ideas with the rest of us; we’re in this together, you and I.

In the end, the public schoolhouse is going to be safe in your community if, and only if, you make it so. In many ways, the success of your safety program is up to you. Parents and stakeholders alike are counting on that being enough!

At the end of the journey, hope drives destiny and that which is good will always prevail over and above the evil in the world. The little red schoolhouse has all but disappeared … yet, thinking on it, I’m reminded of the Amish community in Pennsylvania who suffered the heartrending loss of children due to one man’s evil: yes, they were devastated; yes, they tore down the building which housed these painful memories; but yes! they rebuilt that little schoolhouse as a testimony to their belief in goodness and purity of purpose. May the seed of faith planted in their effort inspire each of us – all of us – to do the little that we can today to bring about a safer community in which to live, to learn, to create, and to succeed.