With the school year barely underway, two children have been killed and 18 more injured in a Minneapolis school shooting. Most of the nation, including me, recoiled from this terrible news. Yet, for more than a decade, I have immersed myself in the details and indicators that are linked to the epidemic of mass violence on school campuses.
In 2014, while working as a behavior specialist in Florida’s Broward County public schools, I was recognized by the sheriff’s office for helping to identify and stop a potential school shooter. It was one of those moments when you realize just how high the stakes are—and how invisible prevention can be.
Four years later, I was asked to review the breakdowns in behavioral supports tied to the Parkland school shooter. Those findings contributed to state-level safety reforms, though I could not speak publicly about the work while investigations unfolded.
That silence, however, made me a lightning rod. In the wake of the Marjory Stoneman Douglas tragedy, when 17 lives were lost, people wanted answers. With none forthcoming, speculation filled the void. False narratives spread, blame was cast on me and others with the help of social media, and some within the system grew uneasy with the issues I had uncovered.
I kept doing the work, even as the narratives around me spun in directions I couldn’t control. And what I learned is this: Providing real school safety rarely looks like heroism. Instead, it has depended on stalwart grassroots leaders doing their best with limited training and funding in systems that aren’t built for prevention.
I spent more than two decades in public education, school safety, and school affairs, including as a classroom teacher, a behavior specialist, and assisting with investigations for the school district’s police department. My path eventually led to my current role as a national trainer in behavioral threat assessment and management.
Across the country and over the years, I have heard the same things from teachers, school leaders, and district safety teams:·
- “We don’t know what we’re allowed to say.”
- “I’m afraid of being wrong.”
- “This kid scares people, but there’s no plan.”
Despite increased mandates and media coverage, many schools still treat behavioral assessment and management as a compliance checklist, not a prevention strategy. We’re not just undertraining true multidisciplinary teams that intervene with students who might become threats—we’re underempowering them. Threat assessment done poorly becomes either performative or punitive. But when done well, it’s a whole-child approach to early intervention.
The best teams I’ve seen know how to ask, 'What is this student trying to survive?'
In the most effective systems, threat assessment is less concerned about finding labels for kids and more about recognizing their unmet needs. It entails documenting patterns, pulling in the right people early, and planning support—not just consequences.
This approach depends on:
- Collaboration across school departments and leaders, not school staff members in silos.
- Consistent case tracking by established multidisciplinary threat-assessment teams, not sticky notes and email threads that reflect concern.
- Empowered team members, not burned-out responders.
The best teams I’ve seen know how to ask, “What is this student trying to survive?” Not just “Are they a threat?”
I tell my own story because I know there are educators right now doing this work in isolation—without training, without backup, and often without credit. They see things others don’t. They raise flags. They try to make the system work with the tools they have. And when something goes wrong, they’re often the first to be blamed.
As a collective education community, we need to do more than admire their dedication. We need to support them with real tools, clear roles, and safe places in which to speak up—before a tragedy forces the conversation.
If you’re a policymaker, district leader, or school administrator, here are three places to start:
- Invest in training that builds confidence, not just compliance. Go beyond filling out forms; teach your teams how to collaborate, communicate, and document student concerns over time.
- Reframe behavioral threat assessment and management as care rather than control. A well-run threat team should feel like an extension of your student-support system rather than your discipline office.
- Create a culture where speaking up is safe. Prevention only works when educators feel they won’t be punished for noticing something early.
What I’ve seen is that real change doesn’t come from splashy announcements about a policy change or even policy change alone. It comes from steady leadership, well-trained teams, and the bravery and culture that encourages action before the worst happens.
So, to the educators doing this work in the shadows: You are not alone. You’re not weak for feeling weary. You’re strong for showing up.
Keep leading with quiet power. It changes more than you know.
