Save your prayers--Georgia school shooting response from a teacher's desk.

The victims were identified as students Mason Schermerhorn, 14, and Christian Angulo, 14, as well as teachers Richard Aspinwall, 39 and Christina Irimie, 53.

On Wednesday September 4th, it started as what appeared to be a normal school day across America. For my school community back home, bells were ringing, feet were shuffling, a sea of maroon and khaki filled the hallways.

The irony became chilling by late morning. We were to perform a lockdown drill, and to follow protocol. Once the announcement was made over the intercom, I was by my desk towards the front discussing the 6-Word Memoir they were about to create for me to my Sophomores. Touching my promethean board, I stop navigating Microsoft Teams and I move across the room to open my door to see if there are any straggling kids in the hallway. We are to pull anyone in if this were the real thing, regardless whose class they belong to that period.

Quick sweep.

No one was there to call in.

I close my door shut, and slide the lock straight till I hear a click.

My lights were already dim due to my lamp lighting and lights, but I dimmed it more and motioned for everyone to remain still and quiet. We moved slower and kept our eyes on the clock. In hindsight, I wonder if I should've actually practiced moving my bookshelf and stacking desks against the door with them. Should we have piled in one corner with bean bags barricading, my desk serving as an extra shield, while we find paper to cover the window on my door and actually cover it?

I wonder if I should've taken out the two tourniquet kits that were nestled in my computer stand podium thingy I have at the front? Next time, I'm gonna. I'm gonna...because a few states over, the unthinkable yet again in our country was about to transpire around the same time as our drill.

According to an article by People Magazine, it stated, "Authorities said the shooting was reported at 10:23 a.m. on Wednesday, Sept. 4. The school was put on lockdown in the aftermath of the attack." Apalachee High School would undergo a series of permanent events that would change the landscape of this community and student body forever.

14 year old Colt Gray had access to an assault weapon and snuck it in to engage in another school shooting that will be added to our list in America. Shooter in custody and will be charged as an adult. Dad is charged too. GOOD!

My mind's eye and heart quickly went to what I imagined were the reactions, belly cries, and still bodies within that building. The terror, horror, trauma, and fear ascending each hallway and stairwell must've been deafening. I can't even bring myself to describe what I imagine in this moment.

Staff emails were coming in about the event before lunch time. By the time I got downstairs to eat, tears were already welling, and my stomach in a few knots. I sat down with my former student now colleague and we googled to find out any more information. We both locked eyes, and sat in a silence for a few seconds.

Adrenaline started coursing through me so I had to get up and walk. I went to our lunch ladies who are our dear friends of the teacher's cafe and a loyal presence to us. The head of maintenance saw me coming towards them and he opened his arms and was like, "You ok, kid?" I collapsed almost by the time I got to them. Margarita came from behind the counter and hugged me and grabbed me before my knees gave out. Between the chips and coffee station I lost all sense of my surroundings and wept.

Ranking number 1 in school shootings around the world, we hold onto this f-ing record yet again.

What do and can we even say, but enough?

Enough easy access to military grade weapons.

Enough overlooking red flags and lean in on the leads provided, but what do I know, I'm just a sitting duck school teacher from Illinois.

Enough watering down the need for more mental health services and resources across our school districts, making more space for social-emotional, more relevant teaching practices that create safe spaces, and less of the sterile opposite.

Policy makers, we have to address you again? We need more increase of school safety initiatives, teachers at the decision-making tables, and a real hard look in the mirror regarding gun access and weak school parameters allowing gunmen time and time again to enter the building.

I have traveled the country with this message of anti-gun violence in our schools. I have given homage to school shooting victims and their families during keynotes and thank you speeches when I received teacher of the year. This is not a boast, but a testament to how heavy this is on the hearts of teachers across this nation. I walked with March for our Lives, I held up signs and screamed, "Save Our Kids," and was interviewed while dropping statement after statement after statement.

What's more eery, I mentioned this stark reality in one of my last keynotes I delivered this summer. I said, how is it that every year we have prepare ourselves for what could be another school shooting EVERY SCHOOL YEAR!? Only to have this premonition turn prophetic?

This has to change, this is and shall remain a state of emergency. Education is the backbone of our society, what moves generations forth, what contributes to our economy, what can be the great equalizer (though we know it's still not).

And yet, prayers and well wishes, poor things, so sorry this happened but lets move on permeate the oxygen we breathe.

I don't want to die because I teach. I don't want to use a tourniquet. I don't want to be a human shield knowing I would be. I don't want to have to quiet my own trauma of PTSD from losing kids to Chicago gun violence. I don't want to simultaneously process school shooting violence at the same time I have to finish the unit and enter grades. What the hell is life? Why don't we care enough to enlist lasting and sustainable change?

This teacher will not stay quiet. It matters. Where we were that day matters. Each child and teacher we lose is part of a larger school community and it felt like my colleagues and my kids. This matters to us, and it should matter to you too. So now what?

This image is 6 years old, but thank goodness I still have this sweater, and this message still drapes over my chest.

One thing I know for sure…my teacher voice matters. And I know damn well I’m about to use it!