
When it comes to school shootings, there’s sadly a grim blueprint for what happens next. First, the funerals. Then the makeshift memorials. Then, at some point, the conversation about what to do with the building itself. That’s where Apalachee High School in Barrow County, Georgia, finds itself now, specifically, what to do about J-Hall, where two students and two teachers were murdered less than a year ago.
The district recently sent out a survey asking families whether J-Hall should be repaired and reopened, repurposed, memorialized, or demolished and rebuilt entirely. On paper, this is not an unreasonable question. Columbine High School famously wrestled with the same issue when their superintendent floated tearing the place down to deter the endless stream of murder tourists and columbiners treating it like some sort of pilgrimage site. The Amish school in Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania, was torn down after the massacre there. Sandy Hook Elementary School met the same fate. And those decisions were made for a mix of security, emotional, and symbolic reasons.
So, the question itself isn’t the problem. It’s the timing and the delivery that turned this into a controversy. The Barrow County School District sent the survey on the first day of the new school year. That’s the day survivors and their families were trying to have something resembling a normal start after the nightmare of last September. And then, just to twist the knife, they didn’t just email parents. They blasted out text messages directly to 10th, 11th, and 12th graders, including kids who were physically there when their classmates and teachers were gunned down.
It’s difficult to overstate how tone-deaf that is. This wasn’t some random planning meeting or a quiet conversation with victim families first. This was an abrupt reminder, shoved into phones right after the “welcome back” banners came down. District officials can say all they want about “deliberate and thoughtful” decisions, but if this was their idea of sensitivity, I’d hate to see what a rushed process looks like.
And this isn’t the only recent misstep in Barrow County leadership. The Board of Commissioners has also decided to try shifting the cost of school resource officers from the county to the school district, just months after SROs risked their lives to stop the Apalachee shooter. One of the victim’s mothers publicly called that decision “utterly disrespectful,” and she’s right. It’s the kind of move that makes you wonder if the people in charge have any real grasp of what these families have endured.
Columbine’s leadership, regardless of where you land on their final decision, didn’t treat it this way. Their superintendent’s survey came decades after the shooting and was aimed primarily at families and alumni, not text-blasted to students still living with fresh trauma. And while Columbine’s debate stirred its own set of strong opinions, it didn’t start by blindsiding survivors on their first day back to class. Apalachee’s district could have learned from that example, but instead they went with a move that reopened wounds before they had even begun to heal.
Yes, the future of J-Hall needs to be decided. Yes, the community’s voice matters. But maybe, and I know this is radical thinking, don’t start that conversation by blindsiding traumatized teenagers on their first day back. Because when you do that, you’re not just asking for input. You’re reopening wounds. And no survey is worth that.
(Sources)






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