Commentary: I recently took part in my first 'active killer' school drill. It was as terrifying as it was misguided

One day last winter, before Florida passed a law allowing teachers to carry guns in schools, my high school students were settling into the languid routines of study hall. Some asked for library passes. Others sprawled over laptops and textbooks or pulled copies of "Monster" by Walter Dean Myers from my bookcase. Despite being told to put their electronics away, earphone cords hung like IV lines, tethering minds to phones.

Within minutes, an administrator stood before the class and asked: "So, when the shooter comes, where are you going to hide?" After a stunned pause, students pointed to a corner table where they'd crouched during active-shooter drills. Others pointed to the storage room door. It led to a space crammed with moldering