KIDS AND COMMUNITY by Judy Shepps Battle: It’s impossible for me to distance myself from the shootings in Santee, Calif., when I see a reflection of my own troubled adolescent self in young Andy Williams.
Andrew Golden. Mitchell Johnson. Kip Kinkel. Eric Harris. Dylan Klebold. Charles Andrew "Andy" Williams.
Six kids who have killed other kids within a school setting.
We are horrified by the actions of these six boys, yet it’s all too easy to distance ourselves from them; these boys we consider mutant monsters with inadequate parents. It’s all too easy to blame society for its weak gun laws, soft criminal penalties, overflowing schools and for not teaching kids right from wrong.
I must confess, however, that it’s not easy for me this time. It’s impossible for me to distance myself from the shootings in Santee, Calif., when I see a reflection of my own troubled adolescent self in young Andy Williams. I can identify with his impotent rage and inability to find an understanding adult. I can also feel a kinship with his parents.
I have raised three children as a divorced mother and know how ill-prepared I was to deal with the turbulence of their teen years. I was far from the perfect parent and will not judge Andy’s parents for the actions of their child.
I believe some part of each of us is capable of acting out murderous rage. Some of us turn it inward and become suicidal or depressed. We use and abuse alcohol, drugs, food, work and relationships to numb violent feelings. Others explode outward and become assaultive and homicidal.
Where is there a middle ground? How can our anger be expressed in a way that won’t cause us to injure ourselves or others? The first step is to be aware that we have these feelings. I’d like to take this week’s column to share some of my own story and explore what might have helped me. Only then can I make recommendations for others.
Andy and Me
Pictures of Andy Williams during his court appearance offer stark contrast to the rebellious, burned-out, "Rambo" image I have of a killer. Andy looks like a small, frightened boy, deeply in shock, who snapped under insurmountable strain (losing his old neighborhood, being taunted for his size, being harassed by peers as a sissy, having his shoes taken from him, having his skateboard stolen).
I remember my junior high school years and two boys named Fred and Pete who made my life miserable because I was smart, overweight and well-developed for my age. We took the same public transportation to school and they would call me names and push me. One day I decided to wait for the next bus rather than endure their harassment. I will never forget Fred opening his window, screaming to the world that I was a "fat pig" and spitting a wad of phlegm over me as the bus left.
I was in shock, and felt shame, anger, fear and helplessness. I can still see his face and hear the sound of his derisive laughter. And no, I never told my parents or school officials about these boys. There just was too much shame about my body and being a victim for me to recount the incident.
If I’d had access to a gun at that moment, I might well have used it, either on myself or on Fred. Instead, I withdrew emotionally, started being absent or late to school, and stopped paying attention to my class work. It didn’t matter that the school was one of the best in the borough, that I was in a special progress class for gifted students, or that most of the kids were nice. My mind was always on how to get back home safely without being tormented by Fred and Pete.
I stayed in that academic and social cocoon until I went away to college. I am not sure I have ever fully emerged from it.
Andy’s Parents and Me
It is easy to point a finger at Andy’s parents and say they should have known his emotional condition and gotten help for him before he exploded. In fact, after the killings at Columbine and Jonesboro, parents of slain students sought to hold liable the parents of the shooters (as well as the grandparents, school district and gun manufacturers).
I cannot cast that stone.
I am a well-trained counselor and addictions specialist who has written and taught about adolescent behavior. Yet one of my own children made a serious suicide attempt at age fifteen and was hospitalized for three months. I was as unprepared for that event as any parent who was not in the helping profession. I had to learn how to communicate with him and to re-form bonds that had eroded without my knowing.
It was not easy to accept that all my theoretical knowledge meant nothing with regard to raising a healthy and happy teenager. I had to learn how to listen, communicate, and not feel personally attacked by the normal adolescent mood swings. Fortunately, we had a group of talented therapists to help us.
My wish is that such therapeutic help be available for other families before anger either implodes as suicide or depression, or explodes as homicidal rage.
What Would Have Helped?
As a child, my greatest wish was that adults would see the obvious signs of my being angry with the world. I needed someone to wonder why a very high-IQ student should be barely passing her courses. I needed someone to encourage me, to share my feelings through talking or writing.
Fortunately, I met those caring adults in my college years. I am not sure I would be here writing this column if I hadn’t.
As a parent, it would have helped to have had a regular group session therapist-led and cost-free where I could have learned what was normal for teens, as well as learning the fine art of supporting without fixing their lives. It would also have helped to learn how to continue my own emotional growth as an adult while my kids went through their adolescent growing pains.
I ask you to think about your own teen years and/or your experience as a parent. What would have made your life happier? Are you willing to share this information with others so we can begin to experiment with community solutions?
I extend this invitation to teens as well as adults.
A Post Script
The AP reports Mari Gordon-Rayborn, mother of one of the slain Santana High School students, as saying: "I want something good to come out of this. Maybe people should smile or say something good to someone they don’t know."
I, too, want something good to come of this latest tragedy. Locking away another baby-faced killer for the rest of his natural life only gives us the illusion that we have addressed or contained the problem. The number of children who need to feel loved, valued, listened to, and safe is endless. We can touch innumerable young lives if we are willing to share ourselves with our kids and our community.
Please write.
Judy Shepps Battle is a South Brunswick resident, addictions specialist, and freelance writer. She can be reached by e-mail at [email protected].