March 12, 2018

School shootings—a shocking and drastic change for safety consideration in education

At Columbine High School in Littleton, Colo., two teens went on a shooting spree on April 20, 1999, killing 13 people and wounding more than 20 others before turning their guns on themselves and committing suicide. At the time, the massacre was the worst high school shooting in U.S. history and prompted a national debate on gun control and school safety, as well as a major investigation to determine what motivated the gunmen, Eric Harris, 18, and Dylan Klebold, 17. —

Nearly 20 years later, the “national debate on gun control and school safety” is still ongoing, and there are always “major investigations to determine what motivated the gunmen.” Changes have been made by some retailers regarding who can buy what kind of gun after the shooting on Valentine’s Day that killed 17 students and staff at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Fla.
      But our perspectives changed with the Columbine shooting.
      At the time of the Columbine High School shooting in an unincorporated area of Jefferson County, Colo., I was teaching English and journalism at Urbana High School. Not long after the story broke, the administration sent a notice to all teachers to read to their classes about what to do if someone was suspected of planning that type of incident or that someone was exhibiting a suspicious form of behavior.
      While I was reading the notice to my class, I saw one student about half way down the middle row in front of me writing and not seeming to pay attention. After I finished reading, I intended to have a discussion about the school shooting and what it meant for the school environment.
      But the student got up and brought his note to me.
      I don’t remember exactly what it said, except that it was something about a possible event of the Columbine type happening at the high school and identifying a student dressed in black as a possibility. Knowing the student in my class and his father, I didn’t think the student was serious in what he had written or that there was any danger from the kid dressed in black.
      Nonetheless, I walked over to the side of the room, punched the call button and asked for a dean to come to my classroom. When the dean arrived, I handed her the note and told the student to go with her. From that point, the student’s parent was immediately contacted, explained the situation and asked to come to the school and get the student. At the time, the father was involved with an extremely important situation at his job that I won’t try to explain.
      Suffice it to say, he was very upset at being interrupted and by what his son had done. And while I don’t know what happened at home, I do know that the father brought his son to school a couple of days later, had his son apologize and assured me that that behavior would never happen again.
      And it didn’t.  
      But the Columbine shooting marked a new time. Prior to that there had been school shootings going all the way back to the Enoch Brown school massacre on July 26, 1764, when a group of Delaware Indians entered a log schoolhouse in the Province of Pennsylvania and killed Brown, the schoolmaster, and nine students. Others followed through the years, but it wasn’t until Columbine that school shootings seemed to increase in their frequency and really got the country’s attention.
      Since Columbine, there have been 25 school shootings, 10 of which resulted in the deaths of four or more students or staff for a total of 122 fatalities, including the death or suicide of the shooter(s) who gunned down the innocent.
      Before Columbine, there were training sessions for tornado drills, and how to respond if hostages were taken—back in the early days of the atomic age, there was even something called a “duck-and-cover” air-raid drill where students were instructed to crawl under their desks and cover their heads to somehow protect against nuclear fallout.
      Holding training drills and sending a kid to the dean’s office who did a stupid thing because he thought it was cool (sounds like something I might have done as a kid, and my father would have done the same thing my student’s father did—maybe even taking off his belt and wrapping it around my rear end in the process) are what the school environment has come to, even more so today after all the school shootings and other threats to our security where the benefits of freedom are curtailed.
      There have been cable news talk show discussions 24/7 since the shooting in Florida, town hall meetings, politicians and the National Rifle Association members spinning their positions and everybody who has an opinion or a solution bickering, talking over each other, tweeting and jacking their jaws, still without any idea of how to really stop the senseless killings.
      But with the available security to get on an airplane, enter a courthouse and other public arenas, it would seem that it is equally important for security to be afforded to the staff, teachers and students going to school day in and day out.

February 21, 2018

Impasse and arrogance in Springfield

The recently published, slightly edited column in the Champaign-Urbana News-Gazette was originally sent as a letter to Illinois Gov. Bruce V. Rauner and House of Representatives Speaker Michael J. Madigan on April 5, 2017. I received a perfunctory reply from a member of the governor’s staff merely thanking me for writing and nothing from Speaker Madigan.

I returned not long ago from a tour of Saipan, Tinian, Guam and Iwo Jima where I went with Military Historical Tours and the Iwo Jima Association of America to attend the 72nd anniversary of the Battle of Iwo Jima and the annual Reunion of Honor where the United States and Japan, once bitter enemies in combat, come together as comrades in peace to commemorate the battle that took the lives of 6,821 Americans, another 19,000 casualties and the lives of 21,000 Japanese. That war preserved our freedom.
         Unfortunately, however, we citizens in Illinois don’t enjoy the freedom we should because of the puerile manifestations of partisan politics in Springfield reminiscent of schoolyard bullies for which Gov. Bruce Rauner and Speaker of the House Michael Madigan are the principal players in the resulting lack of budget, people and businesses leaving the state in droves, college students going to universities out of state, school systems throughout the state cutting programs and faculty, ad infinitum.
         There was a saying in the Marine Corps for people like them: “Lead, follow or get the hell (there was a stronger word when it was as critical a situation as it is now) out of the way.”
         The Iwo Jima veterans on Guam, Saipan, Tinian and Iwo Jima, now in their late 80s and early 90s, were able to follow that directive at the ages of 17, 18, 19 and 20 and on up without acting as these two politicians both do in their esteemed positions of responsibility. Where would this country be had all those men and women fighting in World War II behaved in the deplorable manner both the governor and the speaker are now?      
         Another adopted Marine Corps mantra and directive that has been quite successful is to “improvise, adapt and overcome.” The Marine Corps and the other military services and the civilian working men and women who keep the country moving smoothly follow that concept. The part of society that rarely practices that concept and leaves people behind, as Marines and others in the military and all good citizens never do, is many politicians like Rauner and Madigan.
         Their arrogance amazes me. I first met Madigan briefly in 1986 on an elevator in the state Capitol when I was raising money and doing publicity for the Illinois Vietnam Veterans Memorial. That was just after a couple of us had gone to Rep. Zeke Giorgi, a World War II veteran, and got a $500,000 rider attached to the Veteran’s Bill so we could order the marble and get the memorial dedicated before year’s end.
         On the elevator, Madigan was surrounded by his minions and had the arrogant and pitiful look of superiority and desire for power that the state has come to know so well from him. He looked prime for a blanket party, even then—in Marine boot camp when one of the recruits failed to measure up to his responsibilities, the other recruits threw a blanket over his head after lights out and delivered a few punches for inspiration. Of course that is not PC now, but once was all it took to get the recruit squared away.
         Madigan’s personality and behavior remind me of the comment usually attributed to Sir John Dalberg-Action, the 8th Baronet, who was an English Catholic historian, politician and writer: “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
         That is not to say that the governor is any different. He’s got the power corruption thing, too. He just smiles more and tries to dress more like the common man. And he’s filthy rich, much like our current president, and just as arrogant as either Madigan or Trump. I’ve met Rauner a couple of times. Once at the dedication of the Chez Family Center for Wounded Veterans in Higher Education at the University of Illinois and once at the celebration of designating Champaign County as the “Birthplace of the Tuskegee Airmen March 1941” and the signs to be posted on local highways. Rauner was jovial and were wearing his campaign and political face in both instances. Neither of the men is impressive in their actions and the condition in which they have the State of Illinois.
         ’Nough sed. While this is mainly cathartic, I hope they both can do the right thing and sit down with members of both parties and settle this impasse. They owe it to those who fought and died for our freedom and to those living here in Illinois and depending upon their leadership, not their power struggle.