Talking with Children About School Safety

How in the world does a teacher talk with little kids about tough topics - strangers, death, emergency plans and intruder drills? What do we do if the unthinkable happens? If bad people burst into the school, where do we hide? Or do we run?

Since 1985, I’ve spent hour after hour with a bunch of little kids.

*I know their favorite authors and the books they'll want more copies of.

*I can predict their actions and responses to things that come up (sometimes!)

*I imagine the things that run through their heads.
Just because I’ve taught so many of them.

Hundreds of little people have come through my door, read my books and hugged my neck. I’ve grown to figure out their handwriting, interpret their drawings, sort of think like them. Parents often stress when crises come and wonder how in the world they’ll face the situation themselves - much less, tackling such tough topics with their child. Over the years, many of them have asked, “What am I supposed to say? How did YOU handle it?”

So, in that vein, I’d like to share portions of a blog entry on such tough topics, originally entitled “Thinking About Safety.” It was created with my first graders’ parents in mind this past spring on the heels of some school shootings and significant press coverage. Interestingly enough, this was the blog post that generated the most interest and engagement from their parents over our two-year loop together.

                       Hmmm… how many kids can we fit on the sofa? 

Check out the graph that greeted the children one morning in April… We typically use graphs like this (Venn diagrams and t-charts, too) to introduce a concept around which our math workshop revolves later in the day. Unbeknownst to the children though, I had more in mind than a math standard. With the continuing emphasis on safety and making sure that little kids had plans for themselves in emergency situations, my real goal was to see how many kids I could fit in little places, tucked in, hidden away… just in case. (And I actually was wondering if we could all fit into the bathroom. Yep. How do you test that?)

Well, after the graph question and the children’s predictions, we just had to check it out. So, a few children at the time, we began: “Do you think two kids can fit there?” Laughter. Of course! And the first two had plenty of space...

“How about four? Six?” Once the children realized that we r-e-a-l-l-y wanted to see how many kids we could cram on there, more excitement ensued! Lots of giggles and pleading to try another and another until all 21 squeezed onto the sofa somewhere!

(Don't you just love their 'thinking poses' for their parents to see?
An easy way for parents to bring up the conversation we shared at school!)

After the fun challenge of squeezing everybody onto the sofa, we started guessing other places where all 21 of us could fit, squeeze, or even hide. Under cubbies? In the atelier? Behind the science museum? Beneath the computers? How about... the bathroom?!?

Look where we all can tuck away - and no one
can find us! There's room for plenty more...
We did a better job fitting in the bathroom -
than we did in the photo! 

Anytime something horrific happens, I know parents shudder and wonder how we at school might approach such tough topics with little kids. This is how I approach it… 

*with an out-of-the-box, simple (seemingly-unrelated) question; 

*brainstorming; 

*creative (but, thoughtful) engagements; 

*and just a few words of reflection from anyone who wishes to share. 

We ended our conversation with “You might want to talk to your parents about other places we could hide in our classroom and at school - just in case we ever had to.”

We do have a plan - several scenarios, in fact. Thankfully, I’m married to a man who happens to be a former Secret Service agent, a retired sergeant detective and a brilliant strategist. Numerous times, he’s stood in different corners of my classroom and advised me of possibilities for squirreling one more kid safely away. I shake my head sometimes, just considering why we have to have such scenarios. But, I’m determined that your children will be safe with me. No. Matter. What.

This paragraph is how I ended my blog with parents that day:

“Thanks for thinking deeply with your child, too - and lightly chatting every now and then about little things they can do that could keep them safe wherever they go. I think sometimes with the gravity of these days, there might be a tendency to warn, caution, lecture, inadvertently scare children. But in working with kindergartners and first graders, sometimes saying less - in a light tone - may achieve more. (It’s been such a gentle topic that one little guy keeps wanting to play 'Hide from the Principal' again!)”

I think we all slept better that night. 
Just knowing there’s a plan. 
Just knowing we’ve thought through the unthinkable.