Run, hide, and fight: 25 children, one teacher, and 60 seconds

The incidents in Şanlıurfa and Kahramanmaraş in recent weeks make it inevitable for Turkey to face a reality it has long postponed. Violence is no longer a geographically distant or statistically negligible risk. It may be low-probability, yes. But its impact is high. And such threats become devastating not when they occur, but when they are not taken seriously beforehand.

Defining these events as “isolated” is more of a psychological defense mechanism than an analytical assessment. Because being isolated is no guarantee that it will not happen again. On the contrary, in unprepared systems, every new incident produces more severe consequences than the last. The problem is not the individual events; it is how the system prepares for them.

For many years, there has been a strong belief in Turkey that schools are “safe spaces.” However, this is more of a cultural acceptance than a legal or operational reality. This acceptance may have worked in the past. But continuing with the same assumptions while the security paradigm is changing is not ensuring security; it is creating an illusion of security.

This breaking point has already been reached in many countries around the world. Especially in schools and public spaces, the “Run, Hide, Fight” approach is now accepted not as an option, but as a necessity.

This model is simple but very critical: First, if possible, move away from the scene, that is, run. If that is not possible, hide by minimizing your visibility. And as a last resort, if your life is under threat, resist in an organized manner, fight…

This is not a horror scenario; it is a behavioral training model. Because systems have accepted this: It may not be possible to prevent every attack, but it can be ensured that everyone, especially children and teachers, knows what to do in those first 60 seconds.

In Turkey, the fundamental debate is still at this level: “Is this really necessary?”

Yet the right question is much clearer: When an incident occurs, what will the 25 children and 1 teacher in that classroom do?

Yes, these issues are being discussed in Parliament today. Security measures, regulations, and new draft decisions are on the agenda. These are necessary and important steps. However, there is a critical gap: It will take time for these decisions to be implemented. So, what will happen until then?

Tomorrow, or even today, if an incident occurs? When a door closes in a classroom, what will those inside do? Who will lead? Who will provide direction? Who will make the right decision in the first 60 seconds, and how?

If there is no answer to these questions today, then the problem lies right there.

As someone who provides Active Shooter training, I have a clear observation in the field: Ironically, the greatest resistance comes from educational institutions themselves. The justification is familiar: “It will damage the children’s psychology.” Yet the fundamental principle of psychology states the opposite. Uncertainty increases anxiety. Knowledge, on the other hand, creates a sense of control.

Fire drills do not traumatize children. Because they know what to do. The same logic applies here. A properly structured “Run, Hide, Fight” training does not produce fear; it produces reflexes.

What we are doing today is the exact opposite: By teaching nothing, we leave children and teachers to their instincts in a moment of crisis. Those instincts are often to freeze, run in the wrong direction, or follow the crowd. In other words, at the most critical moment, we disable the system.

From a strategic perspective, this is not a choice, but a clear responsibility. Just as it is a major act of negligence to live in an earthquake zone and not conduct drills, this falls into the same category. The phrase “It won’t happen to us” is not a security policy, but a wish with no measurable basis.

Today we are talking about Şanlıurfa and Kahramanmaraş. If we do not want to talk about another city tomorrow, we must change the debate.

The real question is now this:

When we choose not to provide this training, who will take responsibility for the consequences that will emerge in the next incident?

And perhaps more importantly:

In the time it takes for decisions to be made, THAT IS, TODAY, who will protect the children in that classroom?