Several of my children melted down.

They sobbed.

They shook.

I went from one to another, patting them on the back, consoling them. As I comforted one student in the front of the room, another in the back pulled out his phone and texted his mother that if he didn’t make it, he wanted her to know that he loved her.

I said, “Look at me. I’m not afraid. Take your cue from me.”

That made no difference.

I said, “I’ve lived here for over 30 years. In all that time a tornado has touched down only once in the entire Puget Sound region.”

That made no difference.

“What if we die?” came one wail.

“I want my mom!” came another.

Finally, I tried singing to them, songs I’ve used in the past to put children to sleep.

Even that didn’t work.

They didn’t begin to calm down until long after the all clear.

What’s the difference between this event and an actual fire, an actual earthquake? With students who could cope in the face of smoke or shaking ground vs students unable to cope with the idea of a possible threat?

I put it down to the pandemic. Kids are on threat overload. For 15% of their lives—and a much bigger fraction of their conscious, thinking lives—they’ve lived with the real possibility that they and anyone they love could die at any moment from COVID.

Training in ACEs. Using mindfulness, breathing exercises, music.

I need even more.

They need more.