I had seen guns before. They're an everyday sight in Israel, where I come from. But, in Israel, the guns were protecting me. There was the time I witnessed a man shot, at my temple. Still, none of my experiences compared to five minutes of my sophomore year. This time, the guns were pointed at me. 

I was sitting in my precalculus class when the principal’s voice boomed over the intercom, “We’re going into a practice code yellow.” Class continued as usual, an hour went by; it was almost time for lunch. I asked my teacher if I could leave class early, as I often did, since a leg condition gives me difficulty walking at times. He obliged. 

I exited the school doors to find a helicopter above me. I walked to the cafeteria in search of an adult I recognized, but could not see anyone. I nearly went incontinent as I saw several heavily-armored men running, rifles pointed at me. Seconds later a voice told me to lift my arms and remove my shirt. The sight in my peripheral vision was one that I’ll never forget: a handgun trained directly at my head.

Surprisingly, knowing who is holding the gun makes no difference when you are Middle Eastern and realize you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. The weapon glimmered in the sunlight. “What’s your name?” Officer Razor barked. I stuttered. It seemed impossible to form an answer to even simple questions. I explained myself, but was strip-searched in the middle of my campus. Despite how traumatizing this experience was, the relief of knowing that I was in the control of officers, rather then the worst-case scenarios racing through my mind, led me to have no hard feelings afterwards. In many ways, I’m glad it happened. 

My life could have ended that day. Instead, it was enriched. I suddenly understood Plato’s words, “The life which is unexamined is not worth living.” A grip on mortality has caused me to focus on self-improvement in all aspects of my life.  Later that year, I joined the debate team to further build confidence and improve my ability to speak in any situation. Now, I’m president of the club. I began reading philosophy, starting that very day with Plato, and slowly moved to more esoteric schools of thought. I still have not found life’s answers, but know that {University of Florida} large and diverse population, along with varied classes, will help significantly. During my examination processes, I got a job working under my father, as a sushi chef, and got involved in all kinds of activities. The minutes of horror that took place were insignificant in comparison to the impact they have had. I am confident that Vires, Artes, and Mores will be brought to the {University} community through my unique experience and perspective. I hope to have the opportunity to share the lessons I’ve learned and convictions I’ve come to with other students on campus. 

After yet another school shooting, I was reminded of the story above. I used that essay for my undergraduate applications. I’ll admit it was edited by a friend, John, who’s a much better writer than I. You might have figured that out by the correct tenses alone. By the time you read this, there were likely more school shootings.

The school shooting happened days ago in Texas. Today’s big topic related to the long delay before police responded to the active shooter. My reaction was, “Aren’t they always too late?” That is the detail that remembered of this anecdote. As I specified in my essay, “an hour went by” between the threat being (haphazardly) announced on the intercom and SWAT arriving. Even if it was not a literal hour, it felt like an hour of “business as usual” before the severity of the situation kicked in.

Sadly, this is a norm I grew accustom to since. It is an expectation I joke about with friends.

Israel responding to terrorists may be the only exception. We have had terrorist incidents where trained units responded within minutes. That was mostly due to the prior terrorist attacks, which caused a high alert, as well as the denser cities than US. Outside of terrorism during high alert, I would expect an unacceptable delay.

To make it worse, police regularly announce their presence with sirens and lights, even if you ask them not to. It’s their way of saying, “Hey bad guy! This is your chance to run away.” On the few occasions I called Israeli police to deal with someone harassing neighbors in my building, or to stop a theft, the perp was long gone by the time they arrived. I don’t get surprised by their negligence anymore.

I am sure EVERYONE is sick of reading about mass shootings, as well as police incompetence. Both issues are especially bad in US. Vocal crazies make matters worse. They’re a reminder, “We are surrounded by idiots. Most of which are armed.” So I wont go on a tirade about common sense gun reform… yet. [Maybe next week I will.] I am mature enough to value any police response, so I wont rant about scapegoating police either.

What’s more important is the cheesy end to my pre-college essay. It’s the reality that we need to reflect and take away from tragedy. “If you're going through hell, keep going."

In the Jewish tradition, if one does not act upon blessings, they are committing a sin. We don’t just bless bread. We eat it. Likewise, we don’t just mourn the loss of tragedy with “thoughts and prayers.” We reflect. We donate blood to save lives. We write to legislators. We try to sway the illiterate that the 2nd Ammendment is CLEARLY about collective rights, not individualistic rights. Or we do something else to make the blessing count.

The worst response to tragedy is to be selfish. Which may sound ironic bringing up my experience, when, fortunately, there was no active shooter. But reflection isn’t selfish. Selfishness is marked by scapegoating others. It’s thinking you come first, instead of “What can I learn from my experience, to better others?”

Do not just look for who to blame. Look for what each of us can do better.