On Tuesday, Feb. 24, at 9:19 a.m., thousands of devices across WashU buzzed with one terrifying message: “Armed person on Danforth Campus. Run, Hide, or Fight.”

For a generation that grew up with the constant threat of violence in our schools, this moment felt shockingly unreal. Even after all those years of running ALICE drills and scoping out escape paths during homeroom, none of it was comparable to the moment a threat materialized at WashU.

The greatest priority of the day was the safety and security of our community, and we are extraordinarily relieved that no one was hurt. While the investigation into the event is ongoing, what we do know is that this moment revealed systemic issues in the way our campus responded to the threat. 

One member of our staff was in a class where the instructor continued to teach, even after students alerted her to the threat. After turning out the lights and locking the doors, she returned to her presentation. Students barricaded the doors themselves and begged their professor to stop the lecture. She acquiesced, but only temporarily, and demanded that students huddling on the floor take out their laptops to follow along with a modified version of her class plans. The students were stunned — for those of us with extensive training on proper active-shooter procedures, this seems like an inconceivable response. 

Unfortunately, this response may reflect that, as a country, we have become so accustomed to gun violence that the threat of an active shooter no longer provokes the proper kind of response. It may also be a reaction of shock or an inability to process the situation. Either way, the outcome was wildly inappropriate and dangerous.

Even after the all-clear was announced at 10:21 a.m., confusion and fear lingered. The emergency alert stated that police “did not locate an armed individual.” Although we understand that the Washington University Police Department (WUPD) would not be able to release all its information while the investigation was ongoing, the specific language of the alert was hardly reassuring. For some students, it seemed like the threat had simply not been found, not that it had been neutralized.

Many of us turned to any place we could get even a whisper of information, including the anonymous social media platform Sidechat. Posts began spilling in: some true, others unverifiable, and some that capitalized on the panic to spread racist, AI-generated misinformation.

Campus was noticeably emptier that day. Students didn’t know whether or not they were safe, and later, whether or not they felt comfortable attending classes. The situation left campus in a state of uncertainty. The panic of the morning didn’t simply dissipate after the all-clear. Instead, it transformed into anxiety, unease, and, frankly, distrust. 

WUPD Chief Angela Coonce sent out an email about the threat around an hour after the all-clear was announced, clarifying that authorities believed the initial reports of a shooter on campus were “not a credible threat,” followed by two emails from Anna “Dr. G” Gonzalez, vice chancellor for Student Affairs. 

However, due to unfortunate timing, the first message we received from Chancellor Andrew D. Martin’s office was a scheduled press release announcing the acquisition of a pharmacy school. This remained the only communication the chancellor directed towards the student body until the State of the University address on Monday, March 2.

In the absence of direct communication from the top down, professors, students, and staff were left to make their own decisions based on incomplete information. Some classes continued, while others offered optional attendance or Zoom options. Another member of our staff had an exam that afternoon, which proceeded as normal. To simply go back to our individual lives, including our regularly scheduled exams, was jarring, to say the least. 

It was also a moment in which this community came together to protect its own. Some of our staff reported that dining workers, many of whom did not receive the emergency alert, acted with courage and swiftness to shelter students in kitchens. Administrators ran out of their offices to alert landscaping staff of the situation and ushered them inside. 

This is a moment for WashU to evaluate emergency preparedness and protocols. WUPD and WashU Emergency Management, which both conduct live action threat training biannually, responded swiftly, and we are thankful for their efforts to keep us safe. 

Still, many of us around campus were caught off guard without formal training on active shooter procedures. Others discovered that their classrooms did not have locks or were in buildings with few places to shelter.

As Martin said in his address, “We each have a role to play in creating a safe campus environment, and we will keep working to strengthen our efforts in this area. Nothing is more important than the safety and well-being of our community.” Gun violence in schools is a systemic crisis we must address on campuses across the country. For our community’s safety, we also must focus on the issues laid bare on Feb. 24. 

Staff editorials reflect the opinion of the majority of our editorial board members. The editorial board operates independently of our newsroom and includes members of the senior staff.

Laurel Wang | Senior Scene Editor

River Alsalihi | Senior Forum Editor

Lyn Wilkins | Junior Forum Editor

Kate Theerman Rodriguez | Senior Forum Editor

Amelia Raden | Senior Forum Editor

Sylvie Richards | Managing Forum Editor

Will Rosenblum | Managing Scene Editor

Elizabeth Grieve | Senior Scene Editor 

Hannah La Porte | Junior Scene Editor

Sophia Hellman | Senior Scene Editor 

Bri Nitsberg | Managing Photo Editor

Isabella Diaz-Mira | Photo Editor

Mason Sutton | Special Issues Editor

Bea Augustine | Managing Design Editor

AnaElda Ramos | Managing Illustration Editor

Matt Eisner | Managing Sports Editor

Anna Crook | Junior Sports Editor

Ian Heft | Senior Sports Editor

Zoe Rhodes | DEI Editor