"Safeties on, girls? Let's sew."
As a professor at a public university in Texas, I am delighted that the State Senate has upheld the Second Amendment right of students to carry concealed handguns into college classrooms. I applaud Senator Jeff Wentworth’s persistence in seeing the concealed carry law through, even if he had to append it to a universities budget bill.
Since 2006, I have employed this very policy successfully in my Fashion Merchandising and Textile Science courses at John Salmon Ford State University. That I have had only a handful of gun-related classroom incidents in all that time confirms both the sound theory behind the new law and its proven potential for success.
The virtue of my own policy lies in its few scant rules:
First, because I am staunchly committed to the principle that everyone is inalienably equal, I insist that all students in the classroom be carrying. On the first day of class, I have each student sign a contract promising that by the third week of the term she (more rarely he) will produce both a Concealed Handgun License (CHL) and a certificate of handgun safety training. Because I am reasonable, I waive these requirements for students who are younger than twenty-one and, when pressed, I have permitted some students to circumvent the CHL requirement by bringing their handguns to class UNconcealed.
Second, I insist that students keep their safeties on and that they exercise their right to use the handgun only with proper provocation. While there remains some question about what constitutes proper provocation, the students seem to know the distinction instinctively and to honor it. Most of them prefer to settle their disputes in the traditional manner, anyway, by scratching, pulling hair, and defaming their enemies on Facebook pages.
Finally, I insist that the students subscribe to my axiom:
Guns don’t kill people.
People don’t kill people.
The right KINDS of people kill people.”
As I have already said, I have had only a few minor incidents since establishing this policy. In fall of 2008, what began as a little tiff between two gifted apparel studies students escalated into a brief classroom firefight. While one student sustained a broken femur from a .45 ACP round, the meatier of the two “suffered” only a flesh wound in her abdomen. No bystanders were wounded. In another incident, a female student fired upon the single male in the room when he suggested that an overcast stitch might serve her fashion project better than a blanket stitch. The girl’s boyfriend had broken up with her the previous evening and she was, understandably, very upset with men. The students in the class not only sympathized but also insisted that she take a second shot, for us all.
Only a single misguided student has ever protested this reasonable policy. In 2007, a Q’Shaquaqua Jones asked if perhaps the presence of guns in the hands of everyone in the classroom might not create a more dangerous atmosphere, especially at a university that was seeking to “enlighten and improve humanity as a whole and cultivate a more civilized world” (HER words). She asked naively, “Might this policy, in fact, not undermine the university’s mission of ‘promoting intellectual, social, and ethical growth’ and ‘encouraging peaceful dialogue among diverse peoples’?”
I was nettled by the challenge: “It might NOT. And Ms. Jones, I’m surprised to hear that sort of question from someone of your persuasion.” I repeated politely but firmly that these were my policies. In her defense, Ms. Jones was respectful in her questions. But I exercised my right to drop her from my roll administratively. She has not since been a problem. (For a few weeks afterward, her parents pestered me with e-mails asking anxiously about her whereabouts, but I never felt an obligation to respond.)
I know that some observers across the nation are concerned that the new law will put university teachers like me in danger of violence from students who are upset with the grades that they deserve. My solution has been to discuss grades with students only in face-to-face interviews and to make sure that my own Walther P99 is prominently displayed on my desk. A simple deterrent.
Other academics argue that the greater presence of guns on college campuses will necessarily lead to a statistically higher incidence of accidental shootings, suicides, and rage sprees. I am appalled by their cynical premise that young, emotionally fragile and hormone-driven adults with access to alcohol and drugs are more likely than anyone else to shoot other people, or themselves. I challenge them to find reliable statistical evidence to support their claims.
As the concealed handgun policy has worked well in my own classes, so I am confident it will serve students and professors at other public universities in Texas—and across the nation. I congratulate Mr. Wentworth in his efforts to pass the law. And I hope he understands that, despite the complaints of a very small minority, he has much support from decent, law-abiding college educators and students alike. I urge other states to follow his brave lead.
Bethany Borders, PhD, CFCS
Associate Professor of Family and Consumer Sciences (formerly Home Economics)
John Salmon Ford State University
Since 2006, I have employed this very policy successfully in my Fashion Merchandising and Textile Science courses at John Salmon Ford State University. That I have had only a handful of gun-related classroom incidents in all that time confirms both the sound theory behind the new law and its proven potential for success.
The virtue of my own policy lies in its few scant rules:
First, because I am staunchly committed to the principle that everyone is inalienably equal, I insist that all students in the classroom be carrying. On the first day of class, I have each student sign a contract promising that by the third week of the term she (more rarely he) will produce both a Concealed Handgun License (CHL) and a certificate of handgun safety training. Because I am reasonable, I waive these requirements for students who are younger than twenty-one and, when pressed, I have permitted some students to circumvent the CHL requirement by bringing their handguns to class UNconcealed.
Second, I insist that students keep their safeties on and that they exercise their right to use the handgun only with proper provocation. While there remains some question about what constitutes proper provocation, the students seem to know the distinction instinctively and to honor it. Most of them prefer to settle their disputes in the traditional manner, anyway, by scratching, pulling hair, and defaming their enemies on Facebook pages.
Finally, I insist that the students subscribe to my axiom:
Guns don’t kill people.
People don’t kill people.
The right KINDS of people kill people.”
As I have already said, I have had only a few minor incidents since establishing this policy. In fall of 2008, what began as a little tiff between two gifted apparel studies students escalated into a brief classroom firefight. While one student sustained a broken femur from a .45 ACP round, the meatier of the two “suffered” only a flesh wound in her abdomen. No bystanders were wounded. In another incident, a female student fired upon the single male in the room when he suggested that an overcast stitch might serve her fashion project better than a blanket stitch. The girl’s boyfriend had broken up with her the previous evening and she was, understandably, very upset with men. The students in the class not only sympathized but also insisted that she take a second shot, for us all.
Only a single misguided student has ever protested this reasonable policy. In 2007, a Q’Shaquaqua Jones asked if perhaps the presence of guns in the hands of everyone in the classroom might not create a more dangerous atmosphere, especially at a university that was seeking to “enlighten and improve humanity as a whole and cultivate a more civilized world” (HER words). She asked naively, “Might this policy, in fact, not undermine the university’s mission of ‘promoting intellectual, social, and ethical growth’ and ‘encouraging peaceful dialogue among diverse peoples’?”
I was nettled by the challenge: “It might NOT. And Ms. Jones, I’m surprised to hear that sort of question from someone of your persuasion.” I repeated politely but firmly that these were my policies. In her defense, Ms. Jones was respectful in her questions. But I exercised my right to drop her from my roll administratively. She has not since been a problem. (For a few weeks afterward, her parents pestered me with e-mails asking anxiously about her whereabouts, but I never felt an obligation to respond.)
I know that some observers across the nation are concerned that the new law will put university teachers like me in danger of violence from students who are upset with the grades that they deserve. My solution has been to discuss grades with students only in face-to-face interviews and to make sure that my own Walther P99 is prominently displayed on my desk. A simple deterrent.
Other academics argue that the greater presence of guns on college campuses will necessarily lead to a statistically higher incidence of accidental shootings, suicides, and rage sprees. I am appalled by their cynical premise that young, emotionally fragile and hormone-driven adults with access to alcohol and drugs are more likely than anyone else to shoot other people, or themselves. I challenge them to find reliable statistical evidence to support their claims.
As the concealed handgun policy has worked well in my own classes, so I am confident it will serve students and professors at other public universities in Texas—and across the nation. I congratulate Mr. Wentworth in his efforts to pass the law. And I hope he understands that, despite the complaints of a very small minority, he has much support from decent, law-abiding college educators and students alike. I urge other states to follow his brave lead.
Bethany Borders, PhD, CFCS
Associate Professor of Family and Consumer Sciences (formerly Home Economics)
John Salmon Ford State University
