In the days since, Part 1

I wake up early each morning since the shooting with the recurring nightmare of watching the incident take place. The imagery of the activity within the long three minutes between 12:59 and 1:02 is unbearable. I twist and turn, everything in my body is tight. My physical heart hurts. I pull my hair in anguish. I try to imagine different things.

There are moments when I become angry. Considering the loss of human potential sparks rage. I work to minimize the rage. I know it is not healthy to dwell in these emotions. The work is not with the rage right now, although I know I will need to release it at some point. 

We are just a couple of days in from the shooting; it takes me longer than is my baseline to determine time, which has traditionally eluded me anyway. Livi Ami and I left painted pumpkins at the foot of Rhoam’s memorial at Silver Rail. We cried. We hugged each other.

In the days since, Part 2

In the middle of the night before I send Ami back to school, I am thinking about her desire to not deal with any of this crisis. She prefers to not talk about it, and definitely doesn’t want to participate in any of the numerous supportive events. No bracelet making, no eating at places offering donations, nothing. Just wants to play with her neighborhood friends and watch mind-numbing television. I suppose I shouldn’t judge or compare her to me, or how I prefer that she handle things. While I am figuring out ways to support the disability community, Ami rides her scooter around the neighborhood and plays pretend with her friends. I was hoping she would want to support her greater community by participating in at least one event. Maybe her brain is overloaded and confused and distraught, and so maybe it is stuck. 

Turns out, Ami is compartmentalizing to keep me from feeling sad. She doesn’t want to feel sad, because it will make me feel sad. Shit. She is done with the sadness; “over it” in her words. 

This morning I walked Amelie into school and she told me these things. We walked through the foyer doors into the school and a Bend Police Officer was there. It hit me. Fuck. Then we walked into the gym where Community Time happens each morning. Amelie directed me to sit down with her and as Community Time ensued, each small child with long brown hair looked like Rhoam - it was crazy. Tears happened and I felt I needed to shut them down because I was on the verge of not just tears, but a breakdown of sadness. I’ve not experienced anything like this before. Visually the children were not Rhoam, but they seemed like him and it disrupted my brain. 

Later, Livi and I went to COBAAC where we held space for creating art in Rhoam’s memory and had materials for making cards for the other victims. Diversability Inc. purchased a dinosaur Lego set - I had forgotten that it was a 3 in 1 set. Livi started putting together the set as we ate and chatted with other COBAAC members and affiliates. I grabbed a coloring sheet. Without realizing it, Livi was building a triceratops and I was coloring a triceratops. We will deliver these tomorrow along with the art pieces other folks created for Rhoam.

In the middle of the night

It’s the middle of the night before I send Amelie back to school. For the first time since the shooting, I feel fear. It doesn’t seem rational however her school is vulnerable and there are more guns than humans so … 

The day after thoughts

Our country’s education system must fundamentally change. From Thurston and Columbine to Sandyhook and Silver Rail, and all the schools, students and teachers in between. If you think that a successful education system looks like a former student returning to their school with a gun and ammunition to inflict death and destruction, you are sadly, and sorely, mistaken. 

Our country’s lack of adequate gun control is a huge problem. Teenagers should not be wielding weapons of mass destruction. No one person, not a single soul, should own a gun without proper background checks, licensing and training; all of these, together before owning a killing machine. Our nations’ founding fathers could not fathom the life we are living now and I believe would never condone the way we interpret the 2nd amendment to allow for such loose laws regarding gun ownership and use. 

System failure does not excuse behavior. System failure also does not discount the innumerable positive outcomes produced, particularly in Bend and its schools, and specifically with the shooting at Silver Rail. As demonstrated last week, systems can fail and render success at the same time. Preventing tragedy looks like communities and their leaders holding systems accountable for lacking adequate processes that keep everyone safe, and free from preventable trauma. We are constantly reacting; re-traumatizing and re-victimizing students. 

Safety is not always about locked doors. Upstream, there is so much work to do. Locked doors are not guarantees of safety as we have repeatedly experienced. How are we taking care of one another?  When we see a child struggling upstream, what are we doing as a community to ensure their safe navigation of the ever-changing stream?  It is not one person, or even one system’s, job to ensure safety.  It is a collaboration among community partners.  

Bend must find and fix the gaps in collaborative care.