Writer’s Note: This post was written 1 day after the Friday incident. The following Monday, I somehow taught at another school with a similar safety threat. In a decade of teaching this has now happened thrice in the last year. Twice within 2 days.
I’m not sure where to start other than to just type. There’s a lot going on in my brain. At the same time it’s still and quiet, a bit of a vacuum. “Disconnect” silently flashes like a muted neon sign in the back corner of a dark bar. It’s there. I see it, I acknowledge it, and I also ignore it.
Yesterday was a weird day. A very not normal day. A day that should not be possible. I know it happens elsewhere – south of here – but not here.
By trade, I’m a French teacher. In addition to the work I do with my company, I supply in schools here and there for teachers who are sick or have appointments. Yesterday morning a standing staff meeting was called over the PA 15 minutes before school started. I wasn’t going to attend because I’m not a part of the regular staff and figured it wouldn’t apply to me. I checked with the neighbouring teacher and they suggested I join.
The principal cut to the chase. The night before, death threats with the use of firearms were made towards the school in a student chat group. Thankfully one of the dozens of students in the chat told a parent, who then alerted police. The police made arrests. The school was deemed safe to be open. Our admin relayed the updates (regular staff had already received an email), answered questions, and let us know there were supports if we or the students needed them. I watched the faces of colleagues I have known for years as they took in the news. Some of them have kids at home. Catching their eye I couldn’t help but think, “How do you process information like that as a parent?”. My colleagues responded professionally, admirably. Everyone knew their role: stay calm and carry on.
On a normal work day as an OT, or occasional teacher, my morning goes something like this: check in at the office, sign off on safety plans when necessary (always a delight…), read the day’s plans, highlight necessary information, greet students as they trickle in, try to build rapport and memorize names within the first 5-10 minutes (this is vital), introduce myself, establish expectations (respectful listening, follow instructions, only go on assigned websites), and introduce the first lesson.
Yesterday, despite being told things were fine, a simultaneous stream of consciousness ran through my head as I walked back into the classroom: “we’re on the ground floor with lots of windows. what is the quickest way to cover them if necessary? our floor feels the most exposed. that’s shit luck. which corner would be the safest for everyone to huddle if someone did show up with a weapon? should I lock the classroom door now just in case? no, just leave it. good to see that the door’s window is already covered. one less safety task. find the OT book and read the plans for lockdowns and secure and holds. smile at the kids while reading the plans for lockdowns and secure and holds. stay calm. will the kids listen to and trust me quickly enough if something happens and I need to keep them calm and safe? class starts in 2 minutes. don’t forget to read the lesson plans for the day. where’s the attendance sheet? there it is. write my name on the board. am I sure that spot would be the safest one in the classroom? maybe this one instead? how many students can fit there? i’m sweating. good thing my new deodorant’s great. i should have brought my phone charger today. smile. stay calm. set the example. teach as normal. “good morning everyone, my name is Ms. McAndrew…”. i didn’t sign up for this when I took the job.”
What’s even more astounding to me than this series of events is that it’s the 2nd time I’ve unknowingly walked into work where there was a threat of a shooter within the last year. Ironically, this second time around was a better situation, as I don’t remember the previous student being arrested. I’m pretty sure they weren’t as I remember frequently checking the windows that day. Ironically (and bitterly so), one of my first thoughts as the principal briefed us was, “well, I’ve been here before”. … My next thought was “how messed up is that?”. This unbelievable scenario has happened not once, but twice, in my lived experience.
For the rest of the day, my thoughts were on edge. My exterior was calm, cool, happy.
After the school day was done, I briefly spoke with 3 people. One of the conversations felt too light. In the second, I brought it up, needing someone to know what happened during my day, and then brushed it off. In the third, I cried, allowing some of the day’s tension to spill over and exit my body.
I was – am – angry. Frustrated. Sad. Bewildered.
How has life, education, society come to this? Thank god I don’t live south of the border where devastating school events are a regular occurence. How are any of these words real? How come the conversation after a situation like this week’s is only “thank goodness nothing worse happened”? Of course, focus on the positive. It also feels dismissive. Am I being too dramatic? There are a lot worse things happening in the world.
No, I am not being too dramatic. How many people, outside of those in emergency services, put in hours toward a paycheque today while having the surprise knowledge that death threats were aimed toward their workplace?
I know I’m not the only one who’s had a jarring experience like this. That truth is just as awful.
What will happen to the students who made the threats? Were their intentions serious or were they teens saying dumb things without thinking? How will this affect the rest of their lives? How will this affect the lives of the students that were in the chat group? How did the parents feel when they received notification from the school board before school started?
Why haven’t parents realized yet that cell phones create far more problems for youth than any solution they might solve? Our generation grew up without them. We know it’s not only possible, but better. I realize this isn’t the solution, however less access to technology will greatly reduce a litany of issues today’s youth face.
I’m tired. So incredibly tired.
March 30th, 2026
It’s been a few weeks since both threats. Processing what happened was intense.
It may be silly or foolish of me to write this last part of the story considering the additional potential for safety implications. I’ve considered not including it for both my ego and safety, however the whole mental and emotional landscape of these experiences is important and relevant.
As a person who lives alone, the absence of the benefits of living with others struck painfully deeper than usual once at home. This is not to say that co-living is always positive. However, we are social beings. The additional emotional and mental gymnastics of those back-to-back days, and perhaps the events that led to them, magnified how vital social interaction is to overall health and well-being.
Walking through the door to an empty home, I fiercely wished someone were there who could recognize that it had not been a good day. I wanted to sit beside someone on a couch, to cry, talk, and sleep knowing they were there with me. I wanted – needed – shared presence and to be cared for without having to reach out for it. Whether it would have been a roommate, a partner, or a family member mattered less than it being someone comfortable and safe outside of my own company.
Completely out of character, I texted a guy I dated 3 years ago. For numerous reasons, it’s so hard for me to type that. Factored into the unusual decision was the knowledge that he is a caring individual and a teacher who would perhaps understand a fraction of those unnerving experiences. He declined, though I appreciate how it was handled. To be fair, I hadn’t fully explained why I contacted him. It felt as odd to provide those details over text as it did to reach out in the first place. Instead, my body took over the role of comforter, releasing energy with tears and gaining energy through sleep. It wouldn’t allow it any other way. The fatigue was so immense.
Part of the reason I want to share the post-school experience is because it illustrates how we never truly know what is happening in someone else’s life. It emphasizes why compassion, curiosity, and kindness are so incredibly necessary in society. To be clear, I’m not only referring to the instances of those who crossed my path. What about the students who made such serious threats, real or “joking”. What led them to that point? What is their story and the context behind their actions?
Some of my job is front-facing through social media. Messages I receive from people tend to include comments about the positivity they feel from watching the stories I share. This feedback gives me immense joy. It has always been my North Star in life and business to leave a positive impact. However, I’ve also wondered many times if I’ve boxed myself into a sunny corner and given people a false impression that my life, attitude, and mood are always fantastic. They are not.
If I’m honest, I don’t want to share everything with the whole world. I may be expressive, hence why I’m drawn to writing, however I don’t want to be an open book for everyone all the time, nor do I believe it’s healthy. In today’s world, and in my line of work, the thin line of sharing vs. oversharing is nearly invisible. By the same token, it is because of people sharing their personal experiences, whether in close social groups or through song lyrics, a painting, or another form of expression, that humans find and create connection. Feel a sense of belonging or being seen. Know someone else out there might relate. Expand capacity for empathy.
This has alway been the human way.
Sharing stories can provide insight, information, and understanding. Those of you who have been here since 2017 may remember when rebranding this blog, the tagline became “Connecting the Dots”. If sharing the fears and deep loneliness I felt in trying to process (mostly) alone helps the public be quicker in supporting teachers’ call for funding or the policy makers actually doing something to enact necessary change, or strangers showing more kindness, or loved ones extending their patience, or has any other positive ripple effect, then okay.
