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Six years after the day everything changed, the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School library is filled with resources to promote mental health. There’s a “Zen den” for rest and relaxation, a therapy dog named River, yoga equipment, a button-making station, and a smart board displaying videos of crochet lessons.
River’s owner, librarian Diana Haneski, thinks a lot about what to include and what to exclude from the library’s collection. For example, she removed a Civil War-themed book with a rifle on the cover, and chose to avoid other materials with potentially upsetting images. And she made sure to include a wide range of literary works that offered students an escape from everyday life, such as science fiction novels and magazines for young adults.
Hanneski, 63, who won this year’s national I Love My Librarian award for her public service work, says that kind of escapism and emotional support is essential for herself and her students. thinking.
“People need a place where they can relax, unwind and reduce anxiety,” she said. It was a conscious action on her part to make that happen. “It makes us feel better.”
Six years ago, on Valentine’s Day 2018, the high school students who survived the mass shooting on a campus in Parkland, Florida, have graduated. But Haneski and about half of the staff from the massacre remain, along with children who were in middle school and elementary school when a former student opened fire, killing 17 people and injuring 17 others.
The building where the murder occurred is scheduled to be demolished this summer. The nearby building that houses the library, a softly lit second-floor room with views of the trees, will remain. Since becoming a sanctuary on campus, the library has been restored, reflected, strengthened for the future, and updated.
Hanneski (who barricaded himself in the library with dozens of others on that terrible day) and other veteran staff members are still traumatized and turn to the library for help coping. In recent years, Florida officials have restricted the books that can be stocked on bookshelves and the mental health lessons that can be taught in classrooms, but Haneski hasn’t daunted in her quest to keep her heart and doors open. She believes school libraries should be places of joy that help students and educators deal with the pain of those memories.
That’s the core lesson she learned from this tragedy.
“Some good came out of fear,” Haneski said. “It’s okay to have some joy. Look for it, recognize it, and be open to it.”
different in the worst sense
Haneski has been a librarian at Stoneman for 26 years, nine of those years, and calls the job “the best job I’ve ever had,” in part because “every day is different.”
Valentine’s Day 2018 was different in the worst way.
The campus was busy with many meetings and fire drills. Students and teachers were talking more than usual.
“And all of a sudden they were gone. We talked to them as if they were there,” she said. “can’t believe it.”
Hours before the shooting, staff members joked that mustachioed athletic director and wrestling coach Chris Hixon probably would have been a good husband on that romantic holiday. Ms. Hickson, who always helped students during lunch breaks, was “a very nice person,” Mr. Haneski said. The 49-year-old U.S. Navy reservist was shot and killed as he sped towards the gunfire in an attempt to stop the assailant.
Haneski credits her survival that day to the advice of a friend who was a librarian at Sandy Hook Elementary School the day a former student opened fire at the Newtown, Conn., school.
Haneski knew the entrance would be sealed off before he and 54 others hid in the library’s storage room for more than two hours. She knew to wear clothes with pockets, so she kept her walkie-talkie, cell phone, and keys close at hand. Ms. Haneski froze in the closet, her eyes following the shadow creeping through the gap under her door.
She later learns that Joaquin Oliver was murdered during a creative writing class. She had known her senior, who had almond-shaped brown eyes, since her middle school days. In one of her final conversations, Ms. Haneski told a 17-year-old sports fan that she planned to clap loudly at her graduation.
“I couldn’t do that,” she said.
She also heard about Nikolas Cruz, who was later sentenced to life in prison for carrying out the massacre. The last time she saw him was in her library printing out her homework. When he was younger, she recalled, “he just couldn’t handle it anymore.” But on that day, “he seemed like a guy who knew what he wanted and was going after it,” Haneski said. “It looked to me like he was going to get better.”
They survived a school shooting.Right now, our children are in classrooms during a pandemic.
Thawing begins
For several months after the massacre, Haneski could barely eat or concentrate. She couldn’t even read. She couldn’t imagine returning to a campus where something so evil had happened and so many people she knew and cared deeply about had lost their lives.
She attended several funerals and heard from the victims’ parents, siblings and friends. She witnessed their courage in demanding change and getting the attention of policymakers.
“And I said, ‘You know what? If they have that power, I better go back because I need to be there. i’m not afraid. I have to go. I’m still alive,” she said. “I’m still here. I have to do something good.”
It took time for Stoneman Library to become a place of quiet again.
In its early years, the school received an outpouring of support. A golden retriever, a Labrador, a mongrel, a therapy dog like River, and a plump mini Bernedoodle with sharp eyes and a shiny black nose arrived as puppies that July.
There were counselors to comfort, ministers to pray, and artists to paint and sing. Volunteers and home economics students from a nearby school created bright pink, orange and purple quilt-like blankets and pillowcases that Haneski still hangs over his office chair.
Haneski was grateful but overwhelmed. She managed to make it back to campus, but she had a hard time keeping up with the influx of helpers stationed in the library, carefully watching from her office window.
Then some people from the Mind-Body Medicine Center came. The center trains communities around the world affected by trauma in self-care and self-awareness techniques. Experts teach strategies to community members, and community members share their practices with others. The center believes that people who have dealt with trauma directly are best suited to teach such strategies.
James S. Gordon, a psychiatrist who founded and directs the center, recalls being skeptical when Haneski began leading efforts at the library.
Haneski wasn’t sure if this was meant for her. But once I tried breathing techniques, guided imagery, mindful eating, and walking, I quickly saw the benefits. One particularly powerful activity had participants waving their arms and legs, making it “like a chicken dance,” she said. After she tried it, Haneski began to feel better physically for the first time since the shooting.
She finally started to thaw.
“We’ve seen a change,” Gordon said. She said, “From this place where she was frozen and closed off, she could feel herself coming to life again.”
Socioemotional learning under attack
After the massacre, Florida authorities implemented a number of reforms aimed at making communities safer. It raised the legal age for gun purchases and mandated a three-day waiting period.
The state’s Republican leadership also promoted social-emotional learning, which includes lessons on emotional regulation, interpersonal skills, and responsible decision-making.
But over the next few years, Tallahassee’s conservative leaders changed tack. Gov. Ron DeSantis signed legislation allowing concealed weapons to be carried without a permit, and lawmakers sought to remove mandatory ages and waiting periods for purchasers.
Mr. DeSantis has also worked to limit social and emotional learning in schools, saying the materials are a form of indoctrination. A USA TODAY investigation last year found that the governor’s rhetoric about such learning resulted in several large districts phasing out the kinds of lessons the Stoneman community had embraced after the shooting. It turned out that
Haneski and her colleagues were heartbroken by the excruciatingly frequent stories of students and teachers dying from gun violence in other communities. In 2020 and 2021, firearm injuries were the leading cause of death for children.
“I think we made some progress, but then we didn’t make any progress,” Hanesky said. “With so much going on, how could there be so many shootings? That’s unbelievable to me.”
Haneski has also seen libraries, sanctuaries of goodness, become targets. In Florida, some school librarians were told to remove books designed to encompass diverse identities.
Haneski is trying not to let these controversies derail her. She concentrates on what is in front of her.
“Perfect Target”?:Campaign to ban books from schools brings vitriol to librarians
brilliance and mindfulness
Haneski now works as a facilitator at the Mind-Body Center, which she credits, along with similar mindfulness efforts, for contributing to her recovery from trauma.
The piece was inspired by the Zenden, also known as the Eagle’s Nest after the school’s mascot, and is designed to provide children with the perfect environment whether they need some quiet time or a place to work. and teachers come to “rest in the nest.” Through moments of stress and sadness.
Friends say Haneski often begins meetings and conversations by stopping and taking a deep breath. She carries around a glitter-filled water bottle that looks like a handmade snow globe. She recommends the bottle to stressed children. They shake it and as the glow settles, so do they.
Hanesuki will also help.
Students are building resilience and sharing what they have learned with the wider community.
Tai chi and origami cranes
February 14th is Stoneman’s Day of Service, where children participate in activities of their choice.
Mind Body Club will be holding Tai Chi sessions. Other groups include tables for writing letters and tables for stringing bracelets. One club plans to make origami cranes for cancer patients. Some students volunteer on a project to make blankets for children in need.
Yvonne Cheche, a former Sandy Hook librarian, said Haneski has regained her cheerful and cheerful personality since the tragedy, adding, “What’s special about Princess Diana is that she channeled everything into positive energy.” he said.
Cech wasn’t surprised that Hanneski ended up following her safety advice.
“Until this happened, no one could convince me that the two of us would be in a situation like this. But once we were in a situation like that, there was a sense of what was normal. will be lost,” Cech said.
This chance event transformed the two women from reluctant school safety experts to active advocates for stricter gun control.
“I’m glad she was able to take advantage of that in her situation, but no one should be prepared.”
Contact Alia Wong at (202) 507-2256 or awong@usatoday.com. Follow her on her X at @aliaemily.
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