The attack by a gunman in February that killed 17 people — 14 students and three staff members — at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, sparked a nationwide conversation on school violence. The attack inspired countless students throughout the country to march and walk out of school and lobby lawmakers to tighten gun laws. U.S. News interviewed 15 students to find out how the threat — and for some survivors, the reality — of school violence is affecting their health and wellness. Below, students — many who’ve been motivated to become activists — speak out. Their responses have been edited for clarity and brevity.
Diana Zaragoza, 17, a graduating senior from Eastside High School in Lancaster, California.
I’ve thought a lot about the school violence issue since Sandy Hook [the December 2012 attack in which a gunman killed 26 people, including 20 children between 6 and 7 years old, at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut]. I was in the seventh grade then.
I paid attention to Parkland and other shootings. It really hit home when it happened at Highland High School. [In May, police arrested a 14-year-old boy for shooting a male student, also 14, in the arm at the school in Palmdale, California, about 10 miles from Lancaster.] Even though it wasn’t a mass shooting, it was really scary, because I have friends who go to Highland. I’ve had recurring nightmares about friends and family members being shot at school. And now it’s not even just at schools. I have nightmares about shootings at concerts and at nightclubs. I can’t sleep. I’m unable to think. I have panic attacks during the day. I have to call my therapist sometimes because I can’t get myself to calm down. I went to a party this past week, and a balloon popped and I threw myself to the ground because that’s what we’re taught to do in school [during shooting drills].
I have generalized anxiety disorder and panic disorder. Some days after a really tough nightmare, I’ll tell my mom I don’t want to go to school, I’m scared. I got involved with an organization, NextGen California; they helped me organize a student march for Highland. It’s nice to see some adults stand in solidarity with teenagers instead of just dismissing our arguments.
Sayer Kirk, 18, a rising senior at Walter M. Williams High School in Burlington, North Carolina.
About two weeks after Parkland happened, our school went on lockdown. It ended up being a rumor about someone with BB guns on campus. We were [getting ready] for the ACTs and a call went over the intercom. We had to go on lockdown. We couldn’t leave our room, we had to be quiet. I went like, ‘This is it. I’m gonna be next.’ I was texting my mom and family. I’d driven my best friend’s little brother to school that day; I was texting him to see if he was OK. Police searched a car, where the gun was supposed to be, and found nothing. The lockdown wasn’t called off until the police verified nothing was there.
I led our school’s walkout on the day of the national walkout, which was March 14. The gun violence issue has definitely caused additional anxiety in my life. Should I focus my time and energy on getting good grades, or on saving the lives of others [through activism]? I’ve definitely put my health on a back burner because I’m focusing on what I can do for the greater good rather than what I can do for myself.
Anthony Lovelace, 19, a rising junior at Roosevelt University in Chicago.
It’s tough when you’re at a university setting because it’s not as structured as high school. It’s a lot more free-flowing people. In Chicago, a lot of our public schools have metal detectors. Even in the university setting, we don’t have those security barriers being set up. Although I don’t agree with metal detectors — it pushes this prison mindset. On an open campus, people can come in and come out freely. It’s something that’s always on the back of your mind. You just never know.
It’s definitely makes you feel anxious. Especially if you’re from Chicago; a lot of times you suffer from PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. What that’s like is, every time you hear a loud noise, or you hear somebody screaming or you see somebody running, your anxiety shoots up to about a 10.
You think of the worst-case scenario. You think: Where can I hide? If something were to happen, where would I run? What building would I go out first or what door would I go out first? So post-traumatic stress and anxiety are very high when you think of situations like that, and you feel like you could be in those situations.
I started with BRAVE [Bold Resistance Against Violence Everywhere] as a youth leader ambassador before my freshman year of high school. [BRAVE was founded after teen Terrell Bosley was shot to death in Chicago.]
I really liked the part of advocating for our peers. I’ve always thought that was important. That way, it doesn’t always seem like it’s older people just preaching to us constantly, telling us what to do and what not to do.
In Chicago, it’s not necessarily a fear of being in school, but the fear of going to and from school. It can happen in schools — we just haven’t had it happen yet. That worries someone like me: I’m in college but I have siblings in high school. The fact that we even say it hasn’t happened ‘yet’ is a problem. The fact that we’ve conditioned ourselves as a society to automatically think it could happen. Violence and gun violence have become the norm. …Times are about to change — and we’re going to be the people who change it.
[See: 10 of the Biggest Health Threats Facing Yours Kids This School Year.]
Isa Pfeiffer, 16, a rising senior at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida.
For kids, school is like a second home, because you’re there more than at home. The shooting really violated my sense of security. It really violated my safe space. Physically, luckily, I wasn’t shot. I was getting trampled a bit on the way out, but I wasn’t shot.
After the shooting, I slept all the time [when] I wasn’t working with [the activist group] Students For Change. You’re just so tired after having to go through so much emotion. I’ve never felt grief before, but I did lose two of my closest friends. You don’t know how to deal with it, but you can take a rest and hope it goes away. But it doesn’t.
You get a bit of depression because you lost people that you talked to on a regular basis, every single day. I was in a class with Carmen Schentrup [who died in the attack].
Walking into school every day is definitely a source of anxiety. Just because you see all the cops, and you see all the banners and you’re reminded of what happened. But you also have your friends there to support you. You have so many counselors that as soon as they see your face [with] just a little twinge of sadness, they come running. You also have the service dogs, which are great. It’s so nice to walk in the halls and just pet a dog. Now, being out of school, it’s hard to be without friends, but it’s better not to have to walk in it again.
Louis Garcia, 16, a rising junior at Patrick Henry High School in Roanoke, Virginia.
Seeing this school shooting pattern continue has made me a bit more paranoid to go to school. You just don’t know what will happen. Instead of learning, I’ve started thinking about what to do if there’s a shooting at my school, where is a good exit, what’s a good escape plan. I’m going through a lot of anxiety right now. If something like that happened, I could see it destroying me as a person. At our school, we have many exits. After Parkland, they started putting alarms on the doors [as a security measure]. When people walk by the door, sometimes the alarms go off; some people push the door to make the alarm go off. It’s so scary when we hear it because we’re not used to it yet. It can last 30 seconds to a minute. When that happens, a lot of thoughts run through your head and we don’t know how to interpret it. Maybe there’s something going on in the school that we have to do something about.
Olivia McCarren, 17, a graduating senior from Bethesda-Chevy Chase High School in Bethesda, Maryland.
We have had fairly frequent ‘active shooter’ drills, though at my school they aren’t referred to as such. They are called ‘shelter drills,’ but the students and teachers know that the reason for the increased frequency of these drills is due to the prevalence of school shootings. I have many friends that get anxious during these drills, or just on an average school day. It’s a scary feeling to know that at any moment, your life is in danger at the hands of an automatic weapon. Personally, I feel more anger and disappointment during these drills than fear. Disappointment that we even have to have them in the first place, when steps should have been taken to prevent further shootings after the first major occurrence [at] Columbine. Anger that the legislators haven’t taken these steps yet again, and we must take time out of our educational day to prepare for an unthinkable event. Recently, students have begun to take the drills in school a lot more seriously as a whole, because the probability continues to increase that it is not in fact a drill.
There is an increase of stress and fear among students like myself, on top of already existing stress from schoolwork and upcoming tests. This makes it very difficult to sleep at night sometimes, due to anxiety and the ‘what if’ questions running through your brain. Example: What if I only had time to send one text to my loved ones? What would I say? The lack of sleep and increased stress takes a toll on physical and mental health.
Eden Hebron, 15, a rising sophomore at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. She’s a survivor of the massacre at the school.
I was at school when it happened. I was in Room 1216, the first classroom to be shot up. Three of my friends were in there and died. I watched them get shot and die.
I think it affects many aspects of me. It definitely has made me very cautious and very fearful. I have those memories, those flashbacks and those visions wherever I go. I don’t think that’s something a 15-year-old should have to have with her. It’s definitely caused a lot of anxiety. At night, it’s hard for me to fall asleep because that’s all I focus on. I take medication to help me sleep; I didn’t need it before. I have a lot of nightmares. When I hear a balloon pop, it’s very scary. It brings me back [to the day of the shooting]. Whenever I see guns [assault rifles, on TV shows in movies or in video games], it reminds me of that weapon used to kill my friends. Anytime I enter any room, I think of the best exit or the best place to hide. It has shattered the innocence of not just me, but all the Douglas students.
[See: 12 Questions You Should Ask Your Kids at Dinner.]
Jack Castanoli, 16, a rising junior at York Community High School in Elmhurst, Illinois. He volunteers with Students Demand Action.
I grew up and I always saw these shootings and it was just like it was so normalized. I got used to it. During the lockdown drills, it’s almost treated as a joke. Almost. We’ve had these lockdown drills probably since elementary school. It’s never happened to us. But there’s always that little fear in the back of my mind that someday it’ll happen to me.
It hasn’t really affected me physically. Yet. That’s a big yet, because it can happen to any high school. Emotionally; yeah, it’s taking a toll. It’s hard because you see all these kids. Especially after Sandy Hook, where you see these 6-year-olds that are literally hunted in their school.
At York, we have at least one armed security officer on school grounds at all times. Also, we have our deans around lunch monitoring everyone and making sure everyone’s OK. They’re just kind of walking around and being relatively observant of everybody.
These armed security advisers are officers. They’re not carrying assault weapons. They’re carrying handguns. It definitely [restores] a sense of security in me.
One time at York, we had a threat of a school shooting. Many of my friends and I were talking about going through each class and [calculating] well, if the school shooter comes in then, where do we go? During lunch, we’re like: OK, we’ll hide under the table. In Spanish class, we’ll close the door and hide under the desk. In math class, we’ll dart out the door.
After the Parkland shooting, when I saw all those high schoolers like Emma González and [others], I got so inspired to do the same. This is not a political issue… We just want something done to stop this from happening again. Because nothing has been done before.
Abigail Leopold, 17, a rising senior at B. Reed Henderson High School in West Chester, Pennsylvania.
A lot of the times when I hear about [a school shooting], I pause and reflect on it. When you hear of one school attack happening within days of another, that really gets to me. When it happens, a lot of our teachers will speak about it and give us a little update. It also makes me anxious. It could happen anywhere, and there’s that fear that it could happen to us next. I’ve had nightmares where I didn’t know what to do in case of an emergency or when a gun is pointed right at me. It really frightens me; it really scares me. I wake up in a lot of fear. I have to settle down and tell myself it was just a dream. [The fear] is always there. I have a good five-minute walk from the parking lot to get to my school. There are no teachers around me. I think about what I could do if [a gunman attacked]. If I’m walking in some really long hallways where there’s no doors or the doors are locked, I wonder, what could I do if there’s a gunman around the corner?
Izzy, 15, a sophomore in St. Paul, Minnesota, and a volunteer with Twin Cities Students Demand Action.
When I first heard [about the Santa Fe shooting] I was at lunch during school. I was really, really, really mad. I almost started crying right then and there. But I held it together and went to all my classes. When I got home, I sort of realized that being really angry wasn’t going to get me anywhere.
The last lockdown [drill] we had was probably a month ago. We were taking a math test when it happened. … We have to pull the shades down of all the windows. One of them flew up — just by accident. But it made a really loud bang. And kids started screaming. There’s definitely an emotional toll it takes on you.
When we have a lockdown drill, they just go over the loudspeaker and say, ‘Lockdown, lockdown.’ It’s good that they don’t tell us [whether it’s only a drill], because I feel if they tell us, no one will take it seriously. But at the same time, it is nerve-wracking. Whenever we go into lockdown, kids definitely get anxious. They kind of look around. They talk to each other; they want to know what’s going on. Kids get scared.
I have two years of high school left at this point. And I genuinely don’t know if I’m going to live to see graduation. That’s an absolutely terrifying thought. You walk into school every day — you don’t know if you’re going to leave that building. You don’t know what’s going to happen. You don’t know if your friend could die down the hall. It’s incredibly terrifying.
On Twitter, there is a hashtag that’s been trending. It is #ifidieinaschoolshooting. My generation is already stressed out of our minds by school work. The added stress of thinking about our deaths is not healthy, and it’s not OK. People call us the Columbine generation. The mass-shooting generation. It takes a toll.
Angela Nell, 17, a rising senior at Bishop Ireton High School in Alexandria, Virginia.
I knew the Columbine attack happened — that was before I was alive. [Two teenage gunmen, students at Columbine High School, killed 15 people, including themselves, in April 1999.]. As a little kid, I was, like, that could never happen now. Sandy Hook opened my eyes. And then the Pulse nightclub happened [in which a gunman killed 49 people at a nightclub in Orlando, Florida, before police fatally shot him] and everything started freaking me out. It definitely took a huge toll on my life, especially at school. If I hear any noise, I’ll just turn and focus on that one noise, determined to find the source of it instead of focusing on my schoolwork. It messes up the rest of my day. There’s constantly doors being slammed and textbooks and other things dropping on the floor. We had a drill in school, we put things against the doors and turned off the lights, and [teachers] told us to be quiet. We did one this year after the Parkland shooting. I just feel like until something is done and new gun laws are put in place, I’ll never feel safe going anywhere outside of my house. As long as people are allowed to pick up AR-15s and machine guns, I’ll be anxious throughout my day and I’m not gonna be able to focus properly on my schoolwork. I don’t want to have to be fearful for my life; I’m just trying to live my life as a kid. Bishop Ireton does care about this issue and its students and has lots of teachers who are willing to help students out if they feel anxious over issues of these sorts. The counselors and all adults are super involved in our lives and really strive to make it a safe community.
Sydney Chen, 15, a rising sophomore at Oakton High School, in Vienna, Virginia.
Ever since fifth grade, we’ve had lockdown drills. It’s embedded in our school routine. Whenever I’m sitting on the floor, after they’ve turned off the lights and shut the doors, it makes me feel powerless. We have to sit on the ground and try to be as quiet as possible. I started biting my nails. Mentally, it’s like a storm cloud over all of my thoughts and it won’t go away.
[See: 11 Ways Healthy Community Design Is Working.]
Alanna Miller, 17, a rising senior at Carroll Senior High in Southlake, Texas. She is a Student Demands Action volunteer.
I’m on my high school’s debate team. Back in November, we had a topic on whether or not the U.S. should implement a universal background check. That’s kind of what spurred me on the research side of things. … After Parkland, I just really knew that I wanted to participate in something that was going to make meaningful change.
[After the Santa Fe High School shooting in May] my immediate reaction was absolute shock. It took a long time to kind of accept that it was 10 more people gone from a school. And especially in Texas. Now it feels like it’s our backyard; it’s our fight.
Lockdown drills? I’ve probably been doing them since I was in kindergarten or first grade. Our schools take them very seriously in terms of trying to simulate what actually would happen. So they turn off all the lights and you kind of have to huddle. Especially when I was in elementary school, that was more or less traumatizing.
We would have to recreate them. So we turn off all the lights and hide behind the teacher’s desk or against the walls parallel to the door, so we couldn’t be seen from the window. And school admins, the principal and vice principal would come and check every single room. And basically shake the door and bang on it. We would have to [stay quiet] and could not react. I’m kind of numb to it now. I am 17 and I’ve done this so, so many times.
My school didn’t get police officers until Sandy Hook, so I was 12 or 13. I had never been around police officers before; I’d never been around guns. Nobody is my family is a gun owner. That, to me, took a lot of getting used to: walking past a police officer every day.
Now , all doors are locked at all times. You can only enter with your school ID other than the front entrance, in which there’s a double door that you have to go through the office to get into the school.
There are these solutions we hear people talking about: metal detectors, adding police officers, etcetera. That sounds like they are securing our students; making them safer. But I don’t think people realize that as students, these are things that are changing the environment of the school from a place of learning to a place that feels like a prison.
Cara Marantz, 16, a rising junior at Roycemore School (a college prep school) in Evanston, Illinois.
I used to sit in an open area during my free blocks, but then I realized that I would definitely get shot in the case of a shooting, so now I sit in a more closed-off area. I also began thinking about where I would hide in each of my classrooms if a gunman was to come on campus. I have a classroom that I’d hope to be in if there was a shooting, because it has the most places to hide, which is sickening to me. I shouldn’t hope to be in my science classroom if a shooting occurs.
Jack Macleod, 17, a rising senior at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida.
When I finally got to a classroom, we were really trying to watch the news and see what was happening. And we were told that there was only maybe one person injured, and that was it. By the end of the hour, that escalated to 17 dead.
I was more in shock than anything. Rather than feel emotion, I was unable to process what happened, but shock is the only way I can describe it.
I was good friends with Helena Ramsay, who was in my history class. She was one of the people who died. It seems unreal. For most of us, this was our first encounter with death. It was very shocking, because you have somebody who sits next to you in a class and now she’s not there and you don’t talk to her because she’s not here anymore.
The days after are always the roughest with encounters with death. You wake up and you realize that actually happened. It’s kind of fuzzy. I can’t really remember going to sleep that night or waking up the next morning or the days after.
All I really know is I spent every second of every day with my group of friends; the people who are still here. It was kind of this bond that was created. We all went through something and wanted to spend time with each other. We had a vigil the day after at a nearby park. That was obviously really hard.
[After several weeks of students being off school] from then on it was only half-days. There was no educational curriculum. It was just us going on, therapy dogs, speaking to one another. Obviously, nobody was allowed in the freshman building [where the shootings occurred]. It was just kind of a therapy session for the next couple days after we came back. I actually finished finals last week. It was a pretty rough year.
Of course I feel anxious. Because this is such a daily routine for America now: these mass shootings. But there are a lot of emotions going on. Because there are, like, seven armed guards with rifles at all times. You know, canine units and watchtowers. Uneasy is the way I would describe it.
I feel like the root of the problem with a lot of stuff in society, especially what happened at my school, is people don’t know how to speak with one another. And I wish they had known how to do that earlier. With Students For Change, the nonprofit my friends and I made, that’s literally what we do — try to provide a nonhostile, nonpartisan platform for discussion.
Everybody has dealt with it differently. For me, I took my kind of grief and heartbreak and quickly sublimated it into something productive, which is Students For Change. It kind of just pushed me into adulthood, I guess I would say, very quickly along with my peers and classmates. It kind of threw us into the real world.
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Kids Speak Up About School Shootings originally appeared on usnews.com
