Are teachers respected, protected, and taken seriously? The story of first-grade teacher Abby Zwerner, who was shot by her six-year-old student, gives us the answer loud and clear, and it’s one that teachers already know in our bones.

Let’s just go ahead and say it: Absolutely F$%&ing not.

This week, nearly two years after the tragedy, Zwerner was awarded $10 million in her civil lawsuit against Assistant Principal Ebony Parker, a quarter of the original $40 million settlement amount, for the horrific negligence that led to her being shot. She deserved every penny.

Ms. Parker is scheduled to face eight felony counts on November 17 — one for each of the eight bullets in the gun brought to Zwerner’s classroom.

And honestly? Teachers everywhere weren’t surprised. We were horrified, but not surprised.

Because this story highlights something every educator already knows too well: teachers’ voices are often ignored until it’s too late. We are not safe.

Warnings Ignored 

In the timeline below, so many red flashing lights went ignored that could have stopped this tragedy.

  • Around 11:15–11:30 a.m.: Zwerner told Assistant Principal Parker the student was violent and had threatened another child. Parker barely looked up.
  • Around 11:45 a.m., another teacher told Parker the boy had been telling classmates he had a gun in his backpack. She was busy with state testing. One student was crying and scared to go to the classroom.
  • Around 12:30 p.m., reading specialist Amy Kovac also informed Parker that two students reported the boy had a firearm. Kovac went to search the boy’s backpack while he was at recess, but the gun was not found there at that time. Zwerner was aware that she was called and informed of this.
  • Sometime before the shooting: At least two teachers, including the counselor, asked Parker for permission to search the child’s person, which Parker refused, stating his pockets were too small to hold a handgun and to wait for his mother to come. She would be arriving in over an hour.
  • 1:59 p.m.: The 911 call. The student pointed the gun at Abby Zwerner, and she was shot through the hand into the chest.

Teachers knew. No one listened.

If you work in education, this pattern sounds heartbreakingly familiar:

  • Teachers raise concerns.
  • Administrators downplay them.
  • Everyone is told to follow the chain of command, but nothing is done.
  • Then something terrible happens.

This was more than a failure: it was gross negligence. Any mention of a gun on campus should have set off every alarm possible. But instead of immediate action, there was dismissal. Minimizing. Waiting.

And that’s what hurts the most. Because every teacher reading this knows exactly what it feels like to not be taken seriously until things are completely out of control and someone gets hurt.

And, then they blamed the teacher.

In court, the district’s lawyer actually had the nerve to make the victim, Abby Zwerner, read aloud a policy saying “teachers are responsible for discipline.” As if getting shot by a six-year-old is a classroom management issue. Really? That’s where we are now?

Let’s be clear: teachers handle misbehavior like talking out of turn, name-calling, and the occasional chair tipper. But there’s a hierarchy of discipline for a reason. When a student is threatening violence, we don’t pull out a clip chart or send a “let’s talk about our choices” note home. We call administration.

That’s the training. That’s the protocol. And we expect action, right then and there. Not after testing. Not when the parent arrives.

Who failed whom?

The adults in that building did everything right. They reported the danger to the one person with the authority to act. Search him. Lock the school down. Investigate. That’s an administrative duty, not a teacher one.

Abby heard a colleague call the assistant principal and, like any of us would, assumed help was on the way. Because that’s how it’s supposed to work. But when the people above us don’t act, teachers are left powerless. And in Abby’s case and many others, that failure left her in physical danger.

To make matters worse, the student’s mother also tried to shift the blame, saying the teacher “wasn’t listening” to her son that week. Seriously? The gun he used came straight out of her purse, and she ended up in jail for negligence. Yet, somehow, it’s still easier for everyone else to point the finger at the teacher.

What this case really says

This case isn’t just about one horrific day in a Virginia classroom. It’s about every teacher who’s ever been dismissed, silenced, or told they were overreacting.

It’s about every student forced to sit through chaos and violence because suspending a child might hurt the school’s numbers.

And it’s about the fact that teachers are often the first to sound the alarm and the last to be believed.

Ten million dollars won’t erase trauma. Eight felony charges won’t restore the sense of safety that was lost.

But maybe, just maybe, this case will make districts think twice before brushing off a teacher’s warning or failing to act when it matters most. Because protecting our schools starts with listening to the people inside them.