The tombstone of American democracy
By 
Front page of the University of North Carolina student newspaper Wednesday:
The sound of gunfire off in the distance . . . I’m getting used to it now.
When I arrived at my house after the ”all-clear” from Alert Carolina, I collapsed in my roommates’ arms. We huddled in front of the TV and cried as we watched the press conference. Although I was probably too shaken to be behind the wheel, I drove home an hour later to be with my family. My mom burst into tears the second she saw me.
“I’m glad you made it here safely.” She always said that when I got home, but this time, it took on a different meaning.
My mom told me that when she picked up my little sisters from school, she asked if they were OK. Apparently, her visible distress confused them.
“Why wouldn’t we be? Mom, it happens all the time.”
We are the Sandy Hook generation. We grew up crouching behind desks in pitch-black darkness, as our teachers barred the doors shut in case a “scary person” stepped on campus.
It would be extraordinarily difficult to quantify the psychological harm that living in an active shooter culture does to children and adolescents in particular, but that’s why we have research universities to study such things.
For now.