Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

A Request

I didn't think I had anything to say about what happened this week at Virginia Tech. I was wrong. I really don't want to add to the din of reports and comments about what happened and why. Rather I'm writing this to make a request from everyone. Reporters, politicians, civilians. All of us.

I first heard about the incident while listening to Jim Rome while in the car. He, very carefully, relayed that there was a report of a shooting at the campus of Virginia Tech. He relayed the initial report that there were over twenty dead. It was clear that he was shaken by this information coming across the news wires and he very politely spoke for a few moments about how this report had rattled him and that he was not ready to do his job of being a sports commentator and radio show host. He took a break and went to commercial to gather himself. I did not get to hear the rest of his show as I had reached my destination, but I commend him on how he handled himself.

I heard a few more "breaking news" reports later on in the day. I purposefully did not seek out any information but heard about it nonetheless. It was all over the television. So I turned it off. It was all over the radio, so I turned it off too. It came via email. It came via rss feeds. So I turned them all off. I unplugged.

Why?

Because I know what the air feels like on a day like that. I know what silence sounds like on a day like that. I know because almost twenty years ago I was locked into my high school and ushered into the cafeteria as my classmates and I learned of a shooting at a neighboring elementary school.

I was there as people asked questions. I was there when people frantically called home to check in with loved ones. I was there when they said a woman walked into the elementary school, announced she was giving a lesson about hand guns and proceeded to shoot six kids. I was there when we learned she shot the brother of a classmate. I was there when we learned she killed herself in that classmates house. I was there when we learned she was an alum of our high school.

And though the high school was not supposed to let students go home without a ride as an effort to ensure everyone would get home safe, I walked home alone one and a half miles to my house. I have never experienced quiet like I did on that walk. No one was out. I did not see a single car driving down the street on the way home. No neighbors in the yard. No one. Just silence. And sunshine. It made an impression.

And I know what it was like when summer camp opened a month later and several classmates of the young boy who died in that elementary school classroom had to attempt a return to normalcy. And I was a new camp counselor.

I suppose unplugging was my way of giving the grieving families space. I did not need to hear this information before they did. I did not need to know where the shooter bought his guns prior to the next of kin being contacted. This was not my tragedy. Nor, I should say, was the event of nearly twenty years ago my tragedy. No one I knew was hurt or killed. I just happened to be there. I was not involved. As for the events of this week I know that in time all the information about what happened will come out. I can wait. Something I wish our media outlets would do as well. Alas, that has not been the case.

Instead we see Matt Lauer (whom I like on most days) reporting live from the campus the very next day. Within minutes there were numerous television and newspaper reporters on site interviewing students, faculty, paramedics, police officers, friends of the injured, friends of the deceased, people who were in the classroom next door, a custodian, the guy who owned the shop were the guns were bought and former classmates of the shooter. All this at a time when the interviewees were asking more questions than giving answers. And it all seems wrong to me.

Why must our national media organizations swarm around a tragedy, jockeying for the best position and interview? Why must they interview students the same day the event occured? Why, instead of conducting an interview with a student still in shock, don't they help them find a counselor to speak with first? And while the questions asked may be legitimate questions to ask (though not all were), and though many if not all of the reporters relayed well wishes and condolences and the conclusion of each report it just felt insincere.

I'm sure any one of those reporters who might read that would take issue and defend themselves as being most sincere, but come on. Isn't there anyone with a sense of what is needed here? Give them space. Make your self accessible, but do not pursue this. It is not worth the scoop.

I have no professional training in grief counseling. What I know is that I recieved advice on how I could help the kids at camp if and when needed. The advice I recieved then is my request now for the people closest to this tragic event.

Give them the time that they need to absorb what has happened. Give them time to grieve. Give them space. Be there for them. If they want to talk they will. When they ask questions, answer them. They have suffered through a traumatic event. They will all handle it differently and you need to watch out for their best interests. Not yours.
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Thursday, November 16, 2006

I'm Weird... Not Boring.

I read my post again from last night. Those things weren't really weird. I think I failed to deliver. Here are some weird things about me to make up for the boring/slightly odd stuff I shared. I mean two diplomas? That's not weird. Just trivia. Not anything like what Andy shared. Not even close. So here we go...

1. I am right handed. When I was in high school I taught myself how to throw a baseball left handed. Now, that's not really weird, but I did it just in case I somehow got in a nasty accident, maybe on the farm with a combine involved or something and lost my right arm. Apparently during my high school years there was a rash of incidents like this going on. I figured I should do this so that I could one day play catch with a son if I had one. And though I didn't grow up on or anywhere near a farm and don't have a son, I continue to work on my delivery just in case. I've also rationalized that if one of our girls turns out to be lefty that I'll be able to teach them to throw in a way that's natural to them... as a lefty.

2. When I was little my mom used to buy Hershey's syrup in a can. From time to time I would sneak into the kitchen when no one was around, crab the can opener and punctured two holes in the top so that one could let air in while I drank the syrup from the other. One time I drained a whole can. And I'd probably do it again today if I could find one of those cans. Do they still make them?

How's that for a make good? Oh, here's another one...

3. When realize I did something half baked it drives me nuts and I go back again and again and again to fix it until I am 100% satisfied and then realize that it is something that no one really gives a hoot about. And that bugs me.
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Wednesday, November 15, 2006

I'm Weird - A Meme...

Okay, so Jenne got tagged by Wendy and now I got tagged by Jenne. This is totally seventh grade girl stuff, but since team player I've decided to go with it. I didn't send any dish towels to Jenne, but I'm thinking of sending her some puffy stickers.

Here are the rules: List 5 weird things about yourself or your pets. Tag 5 friends and list them. Then, those people need to write on their blogs about 5 weird things, and state the rules, and tag 5 more people. Don't forget to let the people you tag know by posting a comment on their blog!


1. I've broken my collarbones six times. Yup, six. First one was as a toddler falling down a flight of stairs, second was as a toddler a short time after getting the brace off for the first break - a different set of stairs this time. Third break was in third grade playing a vicious game of "Smear The Queer" - totally politically incorrect game, and just so we're clear I was the tackler, not the "Queer". Fourth time was a flip over the handle bars of my ten speed as I was racing home with two friends after a trip to Old Orchard Theatre to see Back to the Future. Fifth was playing hockey. And the sixth occured on my twenty first birthday. Let's just say that a particular Hosipital in the Bronx named "Our Lady Of Mercy" - wasn't.

2. I will not finish a painting until I have started another one.

3. My right arm hangs an inch and a quarter lower than my left arm. See #1 for the reason. It prevents me from buying off the rack. That is a pain.

4. If I am ever feeling down or stressed all I need to do is look in the mirror for the main reason. I need a haircut.

5. I have two high school diplomas.

There you go! Now I'm off to tag Geoff, Aaron, Mariah, Rod and Scott.
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