Not in Kansas Anymore

I have a 1956 Norman Rockwell print of a frumpy, sweet-faced teacher standing in front of a class of clean-scrubbed, straight-backed children. They had just written “Happy Birthday, Miss Jones!” on the blackboard for her. It’s a scene light-years away from a 21st-century school massacre, and it may take some time for the more Pollyannaish among us to readjust to what the 21st-century school really is. This may explain the freak-out over the idea of arming teachers: Miss Jones with a Ruger tucked into her belt is just too hard to swallow.