I have been trying to figure out how to express my thoughts, and I think I am ready, so here goes (trigger warning for death and school shootings):

On Wednesday, June 1st, there was a shooting at my school, UCLA. I was in class, the final meeting for a seminar before finals week, and preparing to give my final presentation. We talk easily, a box of donuts on one of the tables. After many weeks, we are comfortable with each other in a way classes rarely are. But then my friend’s voice cuts through the air like a bullet shell falling to the ground: there’s been a shooting in the engineering building.

Everything freezes like that moment at the crest of a hill on a roller coaster, where it all hangs in the balances before the fall. It’s a fall, but it doesn’t feel like a little girl flying. Then, it’s all happening. We’ve barricaded the doors with spare tables that block the windows in the doors. One of the doors doesn’t lock.…