November 2025 - Minaz Jivraj My Take: The Heart-Wrenching Battle to Reunite Families After High School Tragedies

Minaz Jivraj
Oct 30
7 min read

In the blink of an eye, a high school hallway can transform from a place of learning and laughter into a scene of unimaginable horror. When a hostile event, like an active shooter strikes, the immediate focus is on survival: lockdown, evacuation, first responders rushing in. But what happens next? Once the threat is neutralized, the real test begins: reuniting terrified students with their anxious families. This process, known as reunification, is often the bridge between crisis and recovery, yet it is fraught with obstacles that can deepen the trauma for everyone involved. In North America, where school violence has become an all too familiar headline, the challenges of this phase reveal systemic gaps, emotional tolls, and logistical nightmares. Drawing from real incidents in the United States and Canada, this article explores those hurdles, shedding light on why reunification isn’t just a procedural step; it is a lifeline that demands better preparation.

Reunification, in the context of school emergencies, refers to the structured process of safely returning students to their parents or guardians after a critical incident. It is not as simple as opening the doors and letting families rush in; it requires careful planning to ensure accountability, security, and emotional support. Both the US and Canada have adopted similar frameworks, often drawing from shared resources and best practices. Yet, despite these guidelines, real-world applications expose vulnerabilities that can turn an already devastating day into prolonged agony.

The Foundations of Reunification: Protocols Across Borders

To grasp the challenges, it is essential to first understand the protocols in place. In the United States, federal guidance from the Department of Education and the Department of Justice emphasizes comprehensive emergency operations plans that include reunification as a core component. These plans are multi-hazard, covering everything from natural disasters to violent attacks, and stress collaboration among schools, law enforcement, emergency services, and community stakeholders. A key tool is the Standard Reunification Method (SRM), developed by The “I Love U Guys” Foundation following a 2006 hostage crisis at Platte Canyon High School in Colorado, where a student named Emily Keyes was killed. The SRM outlines a seven-step process: establishing a parent check-in area, staging students out of sight, using perforated cards for verification, deploying runners to fetch children, maintaining controlled lines of sight to minimize drama, anticipating medical or investigative needs, and ensuring clear communication.

This method aims to make the process predictable and less chaotic, with “go-kits” containing essentials like signs, vests, and forms in multiple languages. Schools are encouraged to practice through drills and tabletop exercises, customizing plans to fit local needs, about 80% standardized, 20% tailored. The emphasis is on preventing students from leaving unaccompanied, protecting privacy from media, and addressing barriers like language or technology access.

Canada, while facing fewer school shootings, mirrors these approaches through provincial and federal safety resources. Public Safety Canada archives similar guidance, including the same SRM framework, highlighting its cross-border applicability. Schools in provinces like Saskatchewan and Quebec incorporate these into emergency plans, collaborating with local police and health services. The focus is on orderly release, identity verification, and post-incident support, recognizing that reunification is the first step in community healing. However, with incidents being rarer, Canadian protocols often adapt US models, as seen in archival documents that stress the need for compassionate information delivery when a child is injured or missing.

Despite these structured guidelines, the reality on the ground is far messier. High-stress environments amplify human errors, and no plan can fully account for the unpredictability of panic.

The Universal Hurdles: Chaos, Communication, and Emotional Scars

Reunification challenges stem from a toxic mix of logistical, emotional, and systemic issues. First, there’s the sheer chaos: students scatter during evacuations, running to nearby buildings, neighborhoods, or even hiding in fear. Tracking them becomes a nightmare, especially in large schools with hundreds of kids. Parents, driven by instinct, flock to the scene, clogging roads and overwhelming sites, which can interfere with first responders. Communication breakdowns exacerbate this; conflicting messages about locations or statuses leave families in limbo, fueling frustration and fear.

Verification poses another layer of difficulty. Releasing a child only to authorized adults requires photo IDs and updated records, but in the heat of the moment, documents might be forgotten, or guardians could be out of town. Language barriers, disabilities, or cultural differences add complexity, as do technology glitches in alert systems. Media presence turns private grief public, invading spaces meant for solace.

Emotionally, the toll is profound. For survivors, separation from family heightens trauma; studies show prolonged disconnection can lead to increased aggression and negativity in children. Parents grapple with uncertainty, sometimes waiting hours for news, which can trigger long-term PTSD. When reunification isn’t possible, due to injury or death, delivering that information compassionately is crucial, yet often mishandled amid the frenzy. In school-based violence, where victims are young, these challenges are magnified: younger kids struggle to self-identify, and the high fatality rates in shootings mean more families face devastating notifications.

Systemic gaps persist too. Fewer than a third of US schools drill reunification plans, and hospitals often lack pediatric tracking systems. In both countries, resource strains in rural areas or underfunded districts compound problems. These hurdles aren’t abstract; they’ve played out in tragic real-life scenarios, revealing where protocols falter.

Fractured Reunions: Lessons from US High School Incidents

The United States, plagued by frequent school shootings, offers stark examples of reunification gone awry. Take the 2022 Robb Elementary School shooting in Uvalde, Texas, where 19 children and two teachers were killed. Families gathered at a community center, but it took over 12 hours for all to be reunified or notified; a delay attributed to scene safety issues, identification bottlenecks, and cascading law enforcement failures. Parents described the wait as excruciating, with some even arrested for trying to enter the school. The incident highlighted communication lapses: contradictory updates and a lack of timely information prolonged the agony. In the aftermath, backlash arose over state-issued DNA kits for identification, seen by parents as normalizing violence rather than preventing it.

Similarly, the 2018 Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting in Parkland, Florida, claimed 17 lives and exposed torturous reunification processes. The state commission later discussed how families endured hours of uncertainty, with some experiencing meltdowns from lack of information. Broward Sheriff’s Office was accused of stonewalling, delaying notifications and victim advocacy. One parent recounted the “torture” of waiting, underscoring how poor coordination between agencies amplified emotional distress. The event spurred calls for better 911 integration and clearer protocols, but the initial chaos left lasting scars.

Going back to 2012, the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting in Newtown, Connecticut, where 20 children and six educators died, illustrated challenges with young victims. The local firehouse served as the reunification point, but the emotional weight was overwhelming; parents arrived to learn their children were among the deceased. Survivors, many just six or seven, faced difficulties self-identifying, and the high trauma level demanded immediate psychological support that wasn’t fully anticipated. This incident emphasized the need for age-appropriate protocols and long-term family resources, as separation compounded grief for siblings and parents alike.

More recently, the 2025 Evergreen High School shooting in Colorado brought fresh insights into logistical pitfalls. Students fled in all directions, some to a rec center, others down streets or into libraries, making assembly a herculean task. Parents received confusing messages about reunification sites, with locations shifting amid the fluid situation. The absence of a full-time school resource officer added to the disarray, though responders adapted. Jefferson County officials acknowledged the inevitable chaos, but parents voiced frustration over delays and poor communication. A resource center was set up post-event for mental health aid, highlighting the recovery aspect of reunification.

These cases reveal patterns: delays in securing scenes, inadequate drills, and emotional unpreparedness turn reunification into a secondary crisis.

North of the Border: Scarcer but No Less Poignant Canadian Experiences

Canada’s landscape differs, with fewer high-profile school shootings, but when they occur, reunification challenges echo those in the US; albeit with a focus on community-wide recovery in often remote areas. The 2016 La Loche Community School shooting in Saskatchewan, where a 17-year-old killed four and injured seven, unfolded in a small Dene community. During the lockdown, students called families in terror, but immediate evacuation followed the shooter’s arrest. Wounded staff and students were rushed to hospitals, yet details on formal reunification were sparse. Survivors like teacher Charlene Klyne, blinded by injuries, faced family upheavals: relocation to urban centers for care, straining bonds as husbands took leave and children adapted. Phyllis Longobardi, another teacher, moved provinces, battling PTSD and nightmares that disrupted family life. The community felt abandoned post-incident, with renovations patching physical holes but not emotional ones. While no overt logistical chaos was reported, the long-term family separations and mental health strains underscore reunification’s extended impact in isolated settings.

At Dawson College in Montreal (2006), though a post-secondary institution akin to high school in age range, the shooting killed one student and injured 17, offering insights into urban challenges. The crime scene lockdown delayed psychosocial teams, preventing immediate support. A surge of families and friends overwhelmed hospitals and the site, complicating efforts to separate groups for notifications. Parents later sought information on symptoms and referrals, with many needs emerging months later. The evaluation found 30% of the community with mental disorders 18 months on, including PTSD, with families of victims at high risk. Gaps in outreach meant chronic issues like depression went unaddressed, highlighting the need for proactive family engagement beyond the initial reunion.

These examples, while limited, show Canada’s reliance on adapted US protocols, with emphasis on psychological follow-up. The relative infrequency of events means less scrutiny, but the emotional and communal ripples are profound.

Bridging the Gaps: Lessons and Paths Forward

Comparing the two nations, the US grapples with volume; over 300 school shootings since 1999, driving robust but often flawed protocols, while Canada’s sparser incidents foster community-focused recovery but risk complacency. Common lessons include the necessity of regular drills, better inter-agency coordination, and technology integration for tracking. Recommendations from experts urge hospitals to bolster pediatric plans and schools to survey parents on awareness. Ultimately, prevention through mental health support and threat assessment could reduce the need for reunification altogether.

In conclusion, reunification after a high school hostile event is more than logistics; it is about restoring shattered trust and beginning to heal. As these stories from Uvalde to La Loche illustrate, failures here can echo for years. By learning from past pains, we can forge safer futures, ensuring that when crisis strikes, families aren’t left in the dark.

References

Minaz Jivraj MSc., C.P.P., C.F.E., C.F.E.I., C.C.F.I.-C., I.C.P.S., C.C.T.P.

Disclaimer:The information provided in this blog/article is for general informational purposes only and reflects the personal opinions of the author. It is not intended as legal advice and should not be relied upon as such. While every effort has been made to ensure the accuracy of the content, the author makes no representations or warranties about its completeness or suitability for any particular purpose. Readers are encouraged to seek professional legal advice specific to their situation.