Schools, Churches & Businesses

I have spent years walking into schools — public and private — churches, and corporate campuses to teach active shooter awareness and response, and to assess how a building would actually behave on its worst day. The gap between how safe an organisation feels and how safe it is comes down to a small number of unglamorous things: which doors are propped, who has keys, what the front office is actually able to see, and whether anyone has ever said out loud what they would do.

The training is not designed to frighten your staff, and I am careful about this. Fear is a terrible teacher and it lingers long after the session ends. Nobody bursts through a door. What people get instead is a decision-making framework simple enough to survive panic, a clear-eyed look at their own building, and permission to act rather than wait for someone to tell them it is allowed.

For churches specifically — and this is close to my heart — the tension is real. You exist to be open and to welcome anyone who walks in, and that is not something to engineer away. The work is figuring out how to stay genuinely open while a few people quietly know what to do. Usually that means a small trained team, better sightlines, and a plan for the nursery that the volunteers have actually practiced.

Assessments are written plainly. You get what I found, what it would cost to fix, and what I would do first if the budget were mine — not a hundred-page document designed to justify the invoice.