Imagine you are an 8-year-old student in elementary school.

Your teacher tells you, “Today, we are having a lock-down drill.” She talks in cryptic language, explaining that, if something bad happens at school, she wants everyone to be safe. You practice hiding in the closet with other students, or maybe you have a special cabinet to hide in. One of my friends told me how proud her daughter was about her hiding space in a cabinet for lock down.

This scenario plays out every day in our schools. But what are we really teaching our community?

We are teaching parents, teachers and students to live in constant fear for their lives because “the shooter” is coming. Not since the Cold War’s “Duck and Cover” have we surrounded our children in such an environment of reactive fear.

School shootings are serious and complex issues. There is no single key that can unlock a solution for our communities. I have some perspectives that could be helpful as our communities wrestle with how to address the potential threat of violence.

First, let’s back up.

How does our learning community care for each other? Do we take time to validate the inherent worth and dignity of every person? Strong communities are built upon trust, caring and love. These interpersonal relationships are our community safety net when issues come up. They also take significant time and attention.

It’s much like fundraising in the nonprofit world. The wisdom of fundraising says, “If you are going to ask for money one month each year, you must spend the other 11 months building relationships.” The same thing is true for community building. Invest time building strong, caring relationships that will support the community in times of crisis.

The Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. said, “A riot is the language of the unheard.” I would say the same thing in this context — that school shootings are the language of the unheard. Often, school shooters are also students. So let us be intentional that our schools can be “communities that hear.” Consider how your school community can open lines of communication.

Let’s allow students to talk and feel. Let’s allow students to discuss what’s going on in our world without a test, homework assignment, grade or learning outcome. It is very difficult to validate the feelings of students when our predominant message is, “Don’t talk,” and schedules shuffle us from room to room every 50 minutes. Where is the time for a student-in-need to talk, feel, grieve, heal or feel support from peers and community? If we do not make time for this important work, we will continue to hear the tragic “language of the unheard.”

Two years ago, Antoinette Tuff stopped a school shooter who carried an AK-47 and 500 rounds of ammunition in my hometown of Decatur. She didn’t use a gun. She used much more powerful weapons: listening, empathy and love. No one was hurt. No one was killed. She is a living example of the power of love, empathy and nonviolence.

What if we trained every teacher in empathetic communication or nonviolent communication? What if instead of lock-down drills, we had empathy drills? Instead of teaching students to hide in a closet, what if we taught our students and teachers to reach out and help each other when people are sad or hurting? A school shooting may never happen, but community building can happen every day.

The issues of school shootings are as complex as the solutions. However, the question remains for every community in America: Will we literally hide in the closet in reactive fear, or will we create courageous communities of love?

Antoinette Tuff was an individual who stopped a tragedy with love. Imagine a whole school of people like Antoinette. We would never hide in the closet again.

Dave Soleil, founder of the Sudbury School of Atlanta, is a consultant in nonviolence leadership and former chair of the leadership education group for the International Leadership Association.