I have been trying to figure out how to express my thoughts, and I think I am ready, so here goes (trigger warning for death and school shootings): On Wednesday, June 1st, there was a shooting at my school, UCLA. I was in class, the final meeting for a seminar before finals week, and preparing to give my final presentation. We talk easily, a box of donuts on one of the tables. After many weeks, we are comfortable with each other in a way classes rarely are. But then my friend’s voice cuts through the air like a bullet shell falling to the ground: there’s been a shooting in the engineering building.  Everything freezes like that moment at the crest of a hill on a roller coaster, where it all hangs in the balances before the fall. It’s a fall, but it doesn’t feel like a little girl flying. Then, it’s all happening. We’ve barricaded the doors with spare tables that block the windows in the doors. One of the doors doesn’t lock. And then, we wait.…