This is true in more ways than one. The whole country is in mourning, but for those of us in academic, that everyday walk through these hallowed halls we know, this could have happened at any campus, this could have happened at our campus. This has been a rough week, and as most people I am filled with unbearable sadness, a tightness in my chest that cuts off my breath. I look at the pictures on the news, the faces of the dead and I see my colleagues, my students, my campus. And while I have never met any of these people, I know them, I see them everyday, I could tell you about all of them. They are the people I see crossing the quad everyday, the kids in my classes with those beautiful smiles are hallmarks of youth, these people with such bright futures that the world is hurt without them. I am sad because of how I know this has affected me and every other person who spends a vast amount of time on a college campus, I have been walking around looking at random students, wondering if any of them could just snap. I have had to stop in the middle of teaching to catch my breath as I look over my students, thinking about how devastated I would be to lose any of them. I have sat in class thinking about the best way to barricade the door, where to put my students so they would be safe from gunfire, if we could get out the windows and how high is too high to jump. I don’t want to think about these things, because it both takes away my fantasy of the ivory tower, but also because I know the answers. Our doors open out, you can’t barricade them, the widows don’t open far enough for people to get out, I would have to break them, and the eighth floor is too high to jump. But mostly I have been thinking about my role as teacher, would I be able swim through the fear and stand up for my students like the brave and courageous Liviu Librescu. Here is a man who has seen the worst that humanity has to offer when he lived through the Holocaust, and instead of letting it break him, he stood up, he became all that he should never had had to be. He is in all aspects, a heroic and brave, brave man. Would I be able to do the same? I know that technically our students are adults, but ask any of us and we would tell you that doesn’t matter much, they are our students and we feel it in our bones, we are responsible for them. I care about my students as people and as scholars, we all do, otherwise we would do something else. We are here to share our knowledge and for every one we complain about there are ten that make this job worthwhile. The worst part of this is of course that we never know, I hope that I would be able to stand for them, but you will never know your mettle until you’re tested, all we can do is hope we would be courageous in the face of danger. But for now all I can do is hope that I would be the kind of person I would want to be, and I will cry as I look at the victims, all those bright futures gone, those empty classrooms and offices where students and professors should be, as I see the people I know in their faces, their smiles. There is a lot to discuss about security on campus, and what we can do when we come across students in desperate need of help. But all of that will come later, after we say goodbye to the young and the old, those who will always walk among us even when they are gone. Later, maybe tomorrow we can discuss what can be done, but today all we can say is that we are all Hokies.