The Wake

Illustration by Srijon Chowdhury

Columbine. Rocori. Red Lake. Virginia Tech. University of Texas. When we think of these words, we think of the tragedies they represent. We think of the sadness and despair caused by individuals who spread their pain and fear across our country in a vast media blitz of bullets. Since 1999, high school and college students haven’t worried about exams so much as they’ve worried about the lone wolf in the student population climbing up the bell tower and shooting up their schools.

What were once separate attacks by tortured souls have become commonplace in the media now. After Valentine’s Day this year, when a 27-year-old former graduate student shot and killed five students at Northern Illinois University, people didn’t take as much notice. Instead of the large media sensation that the coverage of the Virginia Tech tragedy spawned, we heard very little about the trauma the students experienced. NIU’s tragedy was a news feature for a few days before news outlets moved on to the next big story.

Desensitization has never been more dangerous. We’ve become apathetic to the idea that troubled youngsters can destroy the calm of our educational institutions. It’s as though we’ve given up trying to defend ourselves against such a serious threat. Donald Grady, the police chief in DeKalb, Illinois, told CNN.com in an article published February 14, “As much as we do, it’s unlikely that anyone would ever have the ability to stop an incident like this from beginning.”

This apathy must stop. If we are to reclaim the safety and calm our learning environments are supposed to provide, we must stop turning a blind eye to these unfortunate events. We must acknowledge these shootings, learn from them, and learn how to stop them. Yet there is much debate over how to do exactly that.

From shooter profiling to prescription drugs to gun control, parents and schools alike are struggling to find the answers to what makes a shooter tick. School shootings are more common in European countries than they are here in the U.S. These school shooters are predominantly white and male. In most of these tragedies, the shooters were victims of bullying or isolation. Almost all of these individuals planned their crimes well in advance, acquiring weapons and ammo and meticulously creating plans.

This is where similarities end. School shooters have lived in families with both parents, with one parent or with foster parents or guardians. Shooters have been loners at their schools, have close friends or even have lots of friends. Some shooters have had vendettas against their victims. Others only wished to stir up excitement. In 1979, Brenda Spencer killed two and wounded nine in a school yard in San Diego, telling authorities she merely wanted to “liven up” her Monday morning. Some were diagnosed with serious, crippling psychological disorders. Some were not.

It is easy to see why so many suggestions have come and gone as these atrocities occur. Since the Virginia Tech and NIU massacres, gun control issues have pushed their way to the forefront of public discussion. It is an especially hot topic since the revelation that both shooters acquired their weapons from the same firearms dealer. Prescription drugs and their side effects are also the talk of parents and psychiatrists due to the fact that both college shooters may have experienced withdrawal issues from giving up taking prescription antidepressants. School security has become a larger issue too, as we’ve seen here at the U of M. Since last fall, the U has introduced an emergency text message system and a safety website in order to keep our student population better informed. It lists emergency preparations for all kinds of emergencies, as well as preparedness plans and links to organizations like the Department of Homeland Security in order to better inform the U of M community. All of these debates are going nowhere, however. As the nation found out after the Columbine massacre in 1999, merely raising security measures won’t stop a potential shooter.

The only prospective cure this columnist recognizes is to start directly with the shooters themselves. Argue about gun control, prescription drugs, emergency preparedness, and the violence in media all you want; in the end, it is the shooter who plans and executes a massacre. If we are to heal the scars these tragedies have created, we must figure out a way to heal the fractured psyches of people who would become school shooters. More money should be given in education funds to high schools and colleges on counseling services and peer groups for students. Educators should focus more attention on teaching students the effects school shootings can have, as well as how school shootings can be prevented. Administrations should create more flexible rules regarding counseling and therapy. As much as we complain about our university, they certainly have enough mental and emotional health groups that help those who need trouble on our campus. That’s probably one of the contributing factors in why we, one of the largest colleges in the country, have never experienced such a tragedy. More emphasis should be placed on creating a bond between students, as well as between faculty and their pupils. In short, compassion needs to have a larger place in educational efforts.

These aforementioned ideas are lofty, impractical and, in all probability, flawed. But they’re a start in forming a dialogue amongst educators and educated alike in coming up with a solution. Campuses and classrooms are supposed to be safe, not fear-inspiring. Enough time has been spent on placing blame on outside influences. It’s time to take a look at the people who would spread such fear in our schools. Let’s start discussing what it will take to make sure tragedies like what happened at Virginia Tech, Columbine, University of Texas-Austin and Jonesboro never happen again in our future, both in the United States and around the world.