Screams fill the room, with an endless cry of fear coming from the other students lying in the blackness of the densely-spaced room, as you sit there, tears streaming down your cheeks. You're in shock. The thought that a hooded menace is right outside the door, gun in hand, ready to blow every particle of matter that you're composed of into oblivion, is overwhelming. You can't believe that these may be the last few moments of your life, and you begin to pray.

Suddenly, the door opens and one of your teachers jumps in, throws off his hood and exclaims, "You just got PUNKED!"

OK, so that last part probably didn't happen, but such was a night for a group of sixth-graders from Scales Elementary School in Tennessee on a weeklong trip to a state park. During the last night of the trip, several of the staff members thought they would stage a fake "gun attack," telling the students that there was someone with a gun on the loose. They told the students to lie down and be quiet and then proceeded to turn the lights off, which caused some of the students to begin crying.

"[Afterward], we got together and discussed what we would have done in a real situation," said Assistant Principal Don Bartch, who led the weeklong trip. And I bet after that evening, those students learned a very valuable lesson. Never trust your teachers, because they're just out to scare the crap out of you.

I can understand the point they were trying to make when they decided to actually go through with this, which, according to them, was to have it be a learning experience in case it ever really happened. But I remember having this kind of thing happen to me after Columbine. They were called "Code Blues" and what happened was that the teacher told us to get as far away from the door as possible and sit quietly while they locked it and took a seat nearby.

It got the same message across, and still allowed for some discussion afterward, but at the same time it cut out all the frantic "I'm going to die" emotions that would most likely occur if your teacher began telling you that the gunman was lurking right outside.

It's a similar way of thinking about fire alarms. There is a big difference between having a teacher ask everyone to form a line and calmly head toward the nearest fire exit, and watching a teacher jump out of their chair and run into the hallway screaming for their life. In either case, students learn the same lesson. In the latter way, however, they learn it by themselves.

This reminds me of a similar event that happened in fifth grade. My teacher and the vice principal entered our classroom after recess and told us that we were essentially going to lose all of our privileges in the school, most importantly our ability to trade Magic cards, and that there would be new restrictions on who could continue attending the school. By the end of their speech, we sat there, mouths hitting the floor. I remember some of us, including myself, began to contemplate the fact that we would have to move away, and one student even began to cry.

Several minutes later the ploy was over, and it was discovered that this was all a big lie leading into our next study about slavery. Although 10 minutes later, all of us, even the one who had been crying, were laughing at our gullibility, it was still shocking. To this day I look back and wonder how angry some parents would have been had they known about what happened.

Actually, I'm pretty sure a lot of parents would have been so angry that they'd call for the resignation of everyone involved.

I'll admit, however, that what they did was effective in making us understand the atrocities that went on during slavery. It was probably more effective than if my teacher had merely walked in and explained to us what happened to slaves. This is what I assume the staff members at Scales Elementary School were thinking when they devised the plan. A line can be drawn, however, between what's appropriate to do in teaching a lesson, and what's downright stupid.

The incident at Scales Elementary belongs in the latter group.

Reach columnist Eric Uthus at opinion@thedaily.washington.edu.