I've been thinking a lot about the shootings at Northern Illinois University. C and I had a long talk over the weekend about how vulnerable we are as teachers. He is particularly frustrated by his university's refusal to install a phone in the large lecture hall where he routinely teaches. His desire for such a phone isn't only because of the recent shootings. Because of the way the building is constructed, cell phones often don't work in the lecture hall. He has had to break up at least one fight (between an dating couple) and has had one student pass out in class. Without a phone he has no way to contact his department's office, campus security, or emergency services. He was particularly frustrated by this the day his student passed out, as he knew she was battling cancer and likely needed to get to the hospital quickly. The point is that he has repeatedly asked for a phone to be installed in this particular room, and he has repeatedly been told that the department doesn't have the resources to do so. If someone (heaven forbid) decided to attack this classroom, he would have no way to contact anyone if his and his students' cell phones weren't working, which is quite likely. Given the size of this room and the fact that there is no rear entrance or exit, he is feeling a bit vulnerable.
I hadn't felt a similar vulnerability until I realized that the classroom I'm teaching in this semester leaves me and my students vulnerable to a similar attack. I'm teaching in a small room, made to seat about 30 students. There are no other classrooms near mine. The door, which I typically leave open, is at the back of the room, and I can see anyone enter or exit. My students' desks are bolted to the floor, so if anyone did come in blazing a gun, my students have nowhere to hide. This all occurred to me today as we discussed Frances Harper's poetry. I seriously contemplated shutting and locking the door from the inside, but I didn't. After class, as I left the building, I also realized that I don't know where the fire exits are (I've never taught in this building before). Thursday morning, I think I will do a little exploring and make myself more familiar with my surroundings so that I feel a little less vulnerable.
Ultimately though, while I do think it is a good idea that I do this, I'm sad that on the first day of every semester, I will now determine how to quickly exit a classroom and how my students can protect themselves should I ever be in similar situation.
2 comments:
Since I'm not in a classroom situation right now, I don't feel personally vulnerable. But J's experience on campus with a gunman last semester really screwed me up emotionally. (Thankfully, the gunman was apprehended and no one was hurt!) Every time I hear another report, I relive our situation last semester and I worry about J's safety... and the safety of the majority of my friends, who are in the college classroom every day.
I think you're wise to think about your surroundings in light of these shootings and to assess the possibility of emergency exits, etc. But I think that universities have a responsibility for their students' and faculty's safety. The problem is I don't know what that means. I certainly don't think gated universities are the answer, nor do I think metal detectors are appropriate.
But what is that answer? I feel like universities' efforts to improve their response systems are a step in the right direction, but I'd like to feel like a response won't be needed!
I totally understand your concerns. I haven't been teaching for 3.5 years now, but I think that a lot of teachers in universities across the country are in vulnerable positions like you and your husband. Thinking back, most classrooms I taught in were "safer" because they had two doors and the desks could be moved around. In some we could even open the windows.
I had never thought about this before, but these shootings sure do make one aware of one's environment, don't they?
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