Dystopian Teacher Tales: Hero Teacher Stops Bad Guy With Gun

Although the following story is fiction, it isn’t as far-fetched as you might imagine. Without the US Department of Education or teacher union protections, many states may move to arm teachers in response to school shootings. In some places, they already are. Schools may also partner with associations and businesses that would not have been appropriate with national oversight. This move could indeed place cameras in the classroom, create gun-toting teacher programs, and allow parents to sue for liability in a variety of new ways.  President Trump and many GOP legislators have formed bonds with business entrepreneurs around both educational materials and school safety paraphernalia. A type of “CyberBar,” like that presented in this scenario,  already exists.  With the rise of school choice and the possibility of universal vouchers, parents could choose from a variety of factors which they don’t currently, from religious texts to “safer” schools. In theory, this could prompt a state like Georgia, as in this story, to create a department of “School Safety.” President Trump himself has argued for the arming of teachers in the classroom. But only 1 in 5 teachers think it would make anyone in a school safer.

The handsome broadcaster sitting at the news desk is animated.

“Good evening, Atlanta. We have breaking news that a local elementary school teacher has just heroically killed a mass shooter, himself armed with two semi-automatic assault rifles. We are going live now to the scene where reporters are waiting to talk to this hero.”

A swiftly moving reporter on scene is animated too. She is pretty, even though she is dressed in just a sweatshirt and leggings. She finds the teacher sitting on the bumper at the back of an ambulance. He has a shiny, metallic blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His head is shaking in his hands.

“Sir. Can we have just a minute of your time?” says the pretty, blonde, reporter.

The teacher doesn’t look up. “I’m not feeling too…so if you–

“This will only take just a moment. What is your name?” 

“I’m Mr. Courtney. Tom Courtney. I teach 5th grade.”

“Mr. Courtney, can you describe what happened in there? Concerned parents are watching. There’s been very little details for them.”

The teacher, Mr. Courtney, looks up through wet fingers and stares through red eyes at the reporter. His voice is choked. “It’s all still a blur. I was… teaching my fifth graders…fractions, when suddenly I heard what I thought was a car backfiring.”

“But it wasn’t a car, was it Mr. Courtney?” The reporter leans in.

“No.”

“What did you hear next?”

“I heard…screaming outside the classroom, so I immediately began our lockdown procedures. Then there was an announcement on the intercom that a shooter was on campus.”

“Ohmygod Mr. Courtney. I cannot even imagine…what happened next, Sir?”

“I’ve been trained in the new Department of Student Safety’s, School Applied Firearm Experience program.

“You mean SAFE, right Sir?”

“Yeah, I think it’s an NRA thing, I’m not a big NRA—”

“But what happened next Sir?” The reporter is live.

Mr. Courtney inhales. “I then pulled my firearm from its holster. I told my students to get under their tables and went to lock and bar the door with a CyberBar.”

“Well done Mr. Courtney! But then what happened? Please Mr. Courtney. People need to know. People want to know.”

“Just as I was dropping the bar, I saw someone slinking around our building. I knew that I couldn’t let him go past me because there were children still on the playground. So, I squatted into my firing stance, pointed my weapon through the door and squeezed off two shots. It’s how they trained me in my School Safe-Shooter professional development. I never shot at any one before.”

“Of course not, Mr. Courtney.” The reporter brushes back a strand of her hair. “Did you hit him?” 

“I…I think so? It’s all such a blur. I thought I saw him fall. But there must have been two of them because I saw another blur on the other side of the building. Then I heard gunshots. Not my own. They whizzed right past my ear as I was slamming the classroom door closed.”

“Were you struck?”

“No. But the concussion of the bullets striking the wall near me blew my glasses off, and I couldn’t see well. I couldn’t set the lock into place.”

“What happened then?”

“Something slammed against the door, shoved me back into the classroom. That’s when a rifle barrel wedged itself in between the door and the jam. Bullets rang out into the classroom. My poor kids were screaming. I couldn’t see well at that point. I think one of them may have been struck. Are they all okay?”

“We’ll get to that Mr. Courtney.  I promise. So…did you return fire? I mean as you were trained?”

“Well yeah, but the door was thrown inwards. It knocked me back. All I could think of was to kneel down and hide around the back of the door as it swung open. I saw the outline of a teenage kid. He was wearing a bulletproof vest and he had an armband or something.  God help me, he had drawn a smiley face on the damned thing. He had an AR-15 and he was shooting at the tables where the kids were hiding. Splinters and papers were flying everywhere. I think one of our bottles of red paint exploded at the art station.  But he couldn’t see me yet. I knew I couldn’t match his firepower. So, I waited until I had him in my sights.”

“And?”

“And before he swung around to me, I aimed at his head, and God help me, I blew his brains out all over the classroom.” Mr. Courtney’s face is awash in tears. He’s unable to speak for several seconds although he keeps trying.

“Then…I blacked out I think.”

“My God, Mr. Courtney. My God.”

The teacher suddenly looks up. His red eyes glare. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Anything, Sir. You’re a hero. The entire city of Atlanta is watching us right now. Maybe the entire country.”

“Are all of my students alright? Are they okay? I think I lost consciousness for a while, and suddenly there were all these people. I heard screaming and I couldn’t really tell exactly what was happening. Is everyone okay?”

“Well…”

“Please, I have to know.”

“I’m not really the one to tell you this, Sir. But, well, the gentleman outside that you first shot at was actually…not the shooter. It was your friend, a Mr. Petrivelli I believe, who was also taking the NRA shooting courses with you.”

“Was?”

“Reports are that he had received an erroneous report that the shooter had gone around your room into the parking lot, and he was trying to stop him before he could access the kindergarten play area. Remember the shooting waves of 2029 when several SAFE trained teachers were sued for not engaging quick enough?”

“Is he okay?”

“Well, in point of fact he was fatally shot, but–”

“Mr. Petrivelli is dead? Are you saying I killed him? I shot Mr. Petrivelli?”

Mr. Courtney stands up. The silvery emergency blanket falls to the pavement at the back of the firetruck. He paces back and forth, as if he needs to go somewhere, but doesn’t know where that is. Then, he falls to his knees and leans over the bumper of the ambulance, weeping.

“Mr. Courtney, you are a hero. You took down a mass–

“What about my students?!”

The reporter isn’t holding up the microphone anymore, “Maybe we should–,”

“WHAT ABOUT MY STUDENTS?!”

The reporter looks away from Mr. Courtney. The teacher looks around at the other reporters who have now gathered around the back of the ambulance with imploring eyes. But no one else will look at him.

“We’re just getting preliminary reports, Sir, but the good news is that you only lost seven children. Six were struck by the shooter. One from friendly fire, we think. The other twenty-one are completely safe. One may lose his vision-perhaps-just in one eye, but it’s not life threatening. These numbers would have been much, much higher if you hadn’t been armed Mr. Courtney! You stopped that guy dead in his tracks before he could hurt another.”

“Did you say friendly fire?”

“Well… yes, it appears as though when you aimed at the shooter behind the door, you may have inadvertently shot one of your students, in addition to Mr. Petrivelli. Perhaps, under a desk while your arm movement was swinging upwards. These things happen you know-it’s not a liability thing I’m sure. We have it all on film from the Facebook Parental Live-Feed in the classroom camera. As soon as its analyzed we’ll…Mr. Courtney?”

“I killed a kid? One of my own students?”

“Mr. Courtney, your school district has a strong partnership with the NRA. Counselors are in route to talk with you. You have legal representation, as much as–”

“Legal representation?”

“Well, yes. Mr. Courtney, you did exchange gunfire with someone in a classroom after all. But I am sure you are all caught up on your mandated trainings, tactical school survival gear, and active shooter practice hours. Yes? So, as I said, once the FBI has analyzed everything…Mr. Courtney?” 

“I killed a student? I killed Mr. Petrivelli?”

“Sir, you stopped a bad guy with a gun today. Do you understand that? You’re a hero! You’ve shown that arming teachers can drastically lower the…you’ve shown that teachers can be heroes! Mr. Courtney? Mr. Courtney? Can someone get a medic over here! I think our hero passed out. Someone?”

The reporter comes to the cameraman for help.

“Help, please! I’m not trained for this kind of thing!”