I can’t believe it’s been 15 years. 15 years ago, I sat at home, my school closed, trying not to think about it but stuck wondering what it meant and what the future would look like. I was 15 years old, a freshman in high school and the day before was perhaps the scariest of my entire life.
Yesterday was the 15th anniversary of the shooting at Columbine High School. The day started like any other. I went to school at 10:30 (yep, that’s when my school day started). And everything was normal until my orchestra class, that is when it happened. The staff quietly locked down my high school and didn’t say much. My teacher tried to carry on, act like it was nothing, but the buzz amongst the students couldn’t be kept down. By the end of class, the school was out of lock down and the majority of the students were sent home. The kids like me who still had one more class begged to go home with the others but we weren’t allowed. I spent my last class sitting under a computer table with a few close friends, speculating, processing, discussing as 15 year olds can. It was my earth science class but my teacher had no interest in teaching. At 4:15 I boarded my school bus and headed home.
You see, my high school is only a half hour from Columbine and are in the same school district. The entire county, all 17 high schools and feeder middle and elementary schools, were locked down. And all district schools were closed the next day. Columbine was in my backyard. It was in my community. It was people just like me.
I got home and found my sister curled up in my daddy’s recliner chair, in shock. I was surprised to see her because she was never home after school. She was editor of the school newspaper and a ballerina and always busy with something. I don’t remember what I did in that moment. I don’t remember if I hugged her or told her I loved her or if I just left her (we had a rocky relationship at that time) but I do remember feeling helpless. I remember being confused by the state of my big sister, who was usually so put together and strong (and a little bit sassy). Seeing her so vulnerable was shocking to me and I didn’t know how to react or what to do for her (she had been at Columbine covering a sporting event just one week prior and took the events there really hard).
I feel like Columbine helped give me that first nudge towards growing up. It was all over the news, we couldn’t get away from it for weeks. The pictures of the victims constantly flashed on the TV. The stories of the victims and their families. The stories of the shooters. I was only 15 and it was in my face all the time and I had to find a way to deal with it. I couldn’t hide from it or ignore it like a child but I also wasn’t yet an adult. I was stuck in the middle, coping with an adult situation as an immature person.
But then I got to see the miraculous healing, the way the people in my home came together and healed. Columbine taught me that there are selfish and hateful people in the world. But more importantly it taught me compassion, selflessness and the importance of community.
(The columbine it Colorado’s state flower and has always been my favorite. As a child I used to doodle columbines all over everything! Of course, you can see why I pursued dance instead of fine art!)
