
In the United States, the difference between being safe and feeling safe has become a dangerous illusion—nowhere more so than in our schools. Since the tragic Columbine High School massacre in 1999, the nation has witnessed over 420 school shootings.
Astonishingly, more than 160 of these incidents have occurred since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic. Despite the horrific headlines, the candlelight vigils, and the momentary waves of national mourning, our nation has failed to implement real and lasting security measures to prevent these atrocities. We have prioritized optics over outcomes, emotion over action, and feeling safe over actually being safe.
This disconnect becomes painfully clear when compared to the changes in airline security since September 11, 2001. Before that fateful day, passengers boarded planes with relative ease. But following the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the United States fundamentally transformed airport security. The Transportation Security Administration (TSA) was created, implementing rigorous protocols including metal detectors, full-body scans, bag checks, and restrictions on liquids. Today, it is virtually impossible to carry a weapon onto a commercial aircraft. The result? In over two decades since 9/11, there has been a drastic reduction in attempted or successful violent attacks on planes. In this arena, the United States has chosen to prioritize being safe over merely feeling safe—and it has worked.
Now contrast that with our schools. Students walk through doors each morning carrying backpacks unchecked, passing security guards and, in some cases, even police officers, who are powerless to act without clear and present cause. But the problem is not just their presence; it’s the complete lack of enforcement mechanisms.
A student can carry a firearm in a bag, walk through a crowd of school personnel, and still commit mass murder within minutes. There are no TSA-equivalent checkpoints in schools. No metal detectors at every entrance. No scanning of bags. In essence, schools offer little more than a hope for safety—hardly a plan.
Furthermore, most legislation since Columbine has failed to curtail school shootings. Politicians offer thoughts and prayers, engage in partisan bickering, and ultimately maintain the status quo. We must ask: why are our children less protected than airline passengers? Why are schools not treated as sacred, secure spaces the way airports now are?
One argument is that the implementation of strict safety protocols in schools might disrupt the educational environment. But what is more disruptive—metal detectors or mass murder? Feeling safe is not the same as being safe. A child may feel reassured by a school resource officer’s presence, but if that officer lacks the authority, equipment, or protocols to prevent a shooting, then the security is nothing more than a performance.
The data is damning. Four hundred and twenty school shootings since 1999. More than 160 in just the past few years. These are not accidents. They are preventable crimes that persist because we have chosen not to act decisively. We have chosen the illusion of safety over the implementation of real protections.
How many more must die before the reality becomes undeniable? How many more families must grieve the loss of a child before we summon the political and moral courage to do what is necessary? After 420 school shootings, if legislation has not stopped the violence, then what will?
Let us reflect on these questions not as rhetorical flourishes, but as urgent calls to action: How many more school shootings must there be before we, as a society, say “enough”? Which child must we bury next before real security replaces symbolic presence? Until we make the same commitment to school safety that we made to air travel after 9/11, our children will remain vulnerable—and that is a national shame we can no longer afford.
For more information on Dr. Patrick Anthony Williams, Ph.D. send email correspondence to tazpac2000@yahoo.com.