Yesterday, the unthinkable happened. Again.
I’m writing Partnership for Safety and Justice’s guest column just after midnight Oct. 2, hours after a 26 year-old man killed nine people and injured nine more during a mass shooting at Umpqua Community College.
In the time between writing this column and its publication, the news will have probably shifted its focus. As I write this, details are just starting to be released about the person who shot more than a dozen other people. I expect over the next few days, the news will have become more focused on his possible motives and personal background. There will likely be much conversation about Americans’ access to firearms, access to mental health treatment in the community, and the ideal level of armed security on campuses. But today, the conversation is different. Today, it’s still more focused on the victims and the community and the trauma people are experiencing.
Trauma has two meanings: medically, it’s a physical injury, like a wound, burn or damage to a person’s body. Many hospitals have trauma centers that employ impressive surgical and resuscitation measures to save the lives of people who are critically injured. Trauma has an additional meaning, too. Trauma is also the emotional response to a distressing or disturbing event, like a natural disaster or experiencing harm and violence at the hands of another person. Like a physical injury, the emotional injury can be deep and painful and can lead to changes in people’s day-to-day lives. But with support and appropriate care, emotional injuries can also heal. People can — and do — survive emotional trauma and thrive. But with most deep injuries, scars can form, and depending on how fresh they are and how much they’ve healed, they can remind us of the harm that was done.
I’m experiencing this myself. My heart is heavy for the victims and their loved ones. My mind is reeling over the impact this violence has on the community. I feel the need to say something — anything — to help bring some sense to the senseless violence that was just committed. My mind is stuck on the images of students and parents reuniting, the aerial views of a community that has been brought to a halt, and armed law enforcement officers ready to maintain the new peace.
But my mind doesn’t stop there. I’m thinking (without really intending to) about the time that I experienced unexpected, overwhelming mass violence: the 9/11 attacks, which drastically changed the way I lived and worked in Washington, D.C. In fact, it was my former colleague in D.C. who first told me about the UCC shootings and reached out to see if she could help. My colleague, an experienced victim advocate, knew that I’d be affected. Even though Roseburg is hundreds of miles away, the violence feels closer to home and can spark memories of past harm. My colleague knew that one of the most helpful things she could do was to remind me that I’m not alone.
Traumatic events can feel isolating. After the shock wears off and a new reality begins to set in, people can experience a wide range of emotional responses and coping strategies. These responses can feel overwhelming, confusing and intense. Responses can range from things like fear, anger, guilt, preoccupation with the traumatic event, numbness, feeling “on edge,” feeling like they aren’t in control and feeling like there isn’t justice in the world. The more directly someone has been affected by a traumatic event, the more deeply they usually experience the emotional responses. Some acts of violence are so unthinkable that their ripple effects extend far throughout the community, state or nation, affecting us all to some degree.
The impact of trauma is quite real and deserving of care. Neurobiologists, in study after study, are finding that one of the best ways a person can reduce the impact of trauma and fear is to connect with another person. Whether reaching out to a friend, family member, counselor or other trusted person, connecting with someone is a simple but profound way to rebuild a more solid foundation after a traumatic event.
FROM OUR ARCHIVES: Healing the body and the mind of victims
This is something we all have the ability to do. Just as acts of violence create ripple effects, so do acts of kindness and connection. After the UCC shootings, when students had to leave their cars at school, cabdrivers offered to take people home free of charge. Counselors came to provide psychological first aid. Family members, friends and other loved ones met or reached out to share hugs, tears and their presence. People came together in vigils in Roseburg and throughout Oregon to share their grief and support for the victims. People instinctively began the process of rebuilding our communities after violence cut through the peace.
By the time you’re reading this, UCC students will be back in classes. The vigils may be over. The news, and many people’s thoughts, may be focused on the shooter and how to prevent future violence. I hope we also continue to care for the victims, and each other. Let’s bring the supportive spirit of “today” into the conversations and work of “tomorrow.”
Kerry Naughton is the director of the Crime Survivors Program for the Partnership for Safety and Justice. PSJ is a statewide, nonprofit advocacy organization dedicated to making Oregon’s approach to crime and public safety more effective and just.