School ViolenceYou remember where you were and what you were doing when major events take place in your life: the Kennedy and King assassinations, 9/11. So it was with the murders at Virginia Tech.
That horrific scene brought the events of eight years ago to a level of consciousness that made it difficult not to move back in time. I served as a high-school counselor in a small town. Columbine High in Colorado was fresh in the minds of many who dealt with adolescents.
I received a call from a counselor at a nearby religiously affiliated school as I was preparing final schedules for students. In a matter-of-fact tone the counselor from that school reported that my school was about to receive a student who had left his school on the recommendation of that school’s staff. The counselor mentioned that student had had many, many unpleasant verbal confrontations with faculty, administration and fellow students. While private schools are afforded the luxury of jettisoning students who don’t fit in, public schools cannot discriminate.
I filed all of this information in my mind as a footnote to the upcoming school year after speaking with teachers in the school who would have the student in their classes. While my actions may have been prejudicial, Columbine has forced imparting this information as necessary.
At my first meeting with Tim at the beginning of the school year the only remarkable item in our discussion of his assigned courses was the fact that he showed little emotion. The school year moved on and the events of those days became remote. So far back in my memory had the warnings about Tim receded, that when my phone rang late one night, and a detective from the community where I worked spoke, I had trouble naming a student in my caseload who would have been capable of threatening an act of violence against fellow students. When the police detective mentioned Tim’s name in conjunction to a threat made that day in the school cafeteria, all of the events connected with him from the previous summer came cascading into place. The detective asked me to report to police headquarters the next morning.
I spent over an hour with the police being questioned about whether or not I felt that Tim was capable of carrying out an act of violence in the school. In a separate room somewhere in police headquarters Tim was also being interviewed.
Leaving the police department, I walked directly across the street and met with the coordinator of special services to request that Tim be evaluated. The administrator stated that it was too early to begin an evaluation and suggested I fill out the detailed referral form that was used in cases requiring an evaluation. Tim’s mother refused to give her authorization for the administering of the recommended educational and psychological tests.
Within weeks of the threat, one of Tim’s teachers began regularly visiting my office. She reported menacing behavior on his part in her classroom. Days later a parent I had known for many years in the community came into my office in tears and said that her daughter felt threatened by Tim in yet another classroom.
With no period of calm between these incidents, I was shocked when a teacher sent Tim to my office. He wore a T-shirt that had strips of masking tape affixed to both the front and back reading, “I Hate You!” I asked him to remove the tape. Glaring at me menacingly, he violently ripped the tape off the shirt and left leaving a trail of verbal threats.
I scheduled a meeting with Tim’s mother following this incident, but again she refused to sign the referral for an evaluation. The school’s principal finally prevailed upon her to grant consent for testing.
Confidentiality requires that the results of the evaluation remain undisclosed. However, at the conclusion of a meeting in my office, the psychologist who conducted the evaluation stated that he could not definitively assess Tim’s future propensity for violence.
In an act of bizarre “solidarity” with Tim, three students leave black trench coats in their lockers, a frightening symbol of the group that had formed around the gunmen at Columbine. Near the end of the school year Tim is discovered in a stairwell uttering incoherent statements. The school year ended and I breathed a sigh of relief and hoped that the heat of the summer might cool the situation that had developed over the course of the academic year.
The next school year began in the bluster of activity that all years do. In the middle of the fall semester one of Tim’s teachers came down to my office accompanied by her department chairperson. There was a look of fear in her eyes as she handed me the journal that contained a free writing exercise by Tim. The selection contained well-written graphic descriptions of violence and alienation.
I met with the principal, social worker, and psychologist. We agreed that the contents of the journal were indeed violent and the principal decided that she would order Tim to remain home until further testing could be arranged.
Weeks passed and the school department was informed that it was now the subject of a lawsuit filed on Tim’s behalf contending that the school department had violated his rights by punishing him for a free-writing exercise. The judge would ultimately find that the staff should be admonished for not calling Tim in to discuss his writing. He also determined that we had violated Tim’s right to free expression. When the legal representatives from both sides met in the superintendent’s office to discuss these findings, I was told that I would be immediately removed from Tim’s case and he would be reassigned to a different school counselor. The school principal was also admonished by the court for not affording the student due process. Adding to the weight of the case, the judge ordered that the school department pay for Tim’s legal fees.
All of these years later I sat at a table in a learning lab at the community college where I now work with the images passing by me that the media had now emblazoned on our collective consciences from Blacksburg, Virginia. All of the mayhem; the grief and loss; the faces never to be seen again, and I reflect on the days in my office as a counselor and how those events unfolded and were dealt with, and try to comprehend the incomprehensible in the present! When will we as a society honestly discuss the issues of gun proliferation, violence in schools and the treatment of mental illness?
Howard Lisnoff is an educator and freelance writer.