My college students remind me at every shooting that they have never known a time when children were not killed in schools. How can they possibly grow up believing the world is theirs to conquer?
There’s a favorite game of little children. You know the one. They run and hide in plain sight and, because they can’t see us, they assume they’re invisible.
We can see their feet or the top of their heads, maybe their entire bodies. We hear their giggles, too, as we call their names and act as if we have no idea where they might be. Their view is obstructed and so they believe they have disappeared.
