When tragedy strikes, as it did in Lewiston, it’s human nature to seek understanding of motives, to dissect the incomprehensible and perhaps, in the process, find ways to prevent future anguish. With the shooter, Robert Card, taking his own life, we are left with an agonizing void where answers should be forthcoming. Yet, if we meticulously reverse-engineer these acts of wanton violence, we might glean insight into what catalyzes such horrifying decisions.
Just beneath the surface of the inexplicable violence that unfolded in Lewiston likely resided a fulminating outrage—a volatile brew of emotions, festering and unaddressed until it crossed a threshold into blind rage. What kind of spark ignites this explosive material? Often, it's an inciting incident, seemingly minor in isolation but monumental to someone teetering on the edge of reason.
Delving deeper, behind this outrage often lies a sustained perception of injustice, a grievance accrued over time and constantly aggravated by instances of humiliation or dismissal. This sense of relentless unfairness, especially when it finds no avenue for redress, can feed a paranoid mindset. The world no longer seems indifferent; it appears menacingly and maliciously aligned against the individual.
But what precedes this sense of injustice and paranoia? It is often a protracted frustration born from an environment that seems to lack compassion, that responds to “cries for help” with cold indifference, hostility or ridicule. This isn’t born in a vacuum. It gestates in childhood experiences marked by neglect, abuse, or a profound emotional disconnect from caregivers. Children in such circumstances learn early that their feelings are invalid, their voices unheard, and their very existence nullified.
If this paints a true picture of the journey towards the kind of endpoint we saw in Lewiston, what can we do to intercept and disrupt this tragic trajectory?
One approach, simplistic in its essence but profound in its application, hinges on anticipation—specifically, the anticipation of positive experiences. When children, and indeed adults, have events or interactions to look forward to, they anchor themselves in a positive future. But the moment these anticipations dissolve into dreads, a crucial intervention point arises.
At this juncture, it’s imperative for those in supportive roles—parents, teachers, coaches—to engage deeply. They must strive to understand what has tainted the individual’s outlook. This 'drilling down' isn’t merely a question-and-answer session; it’s an open, safe space for the expression of raw, often jumbled emotions. Let these feelings—these signs of inner turmoil—breathe. Let them dissipate in their own time, offering relief and clarity in their wake.
This concept, known as 'abreaction,' often doesn't find enough practice in real-world scenarios. It involves allowing suppressed emotions—a veritable Pandora's box of fears, frustrations, and perceived failings—to surface and be acknowledged without judgment or immediate and inhibiting recourse to 'solutions.' The feelings aren’t the problem; the suppression is.
Children are often instructed to 'use their words' as a mechanism to prevent aggressive or destructive behavior. While the advice is well-meaning, I propose we take it a step further. We must encourage children, and individuals of all ages, to not only use their words but also identify and name their feelings, genuinely feel them and express them without fear of rejection or ridicule. This expression needs a recipient—a listener—who doesn’t just hear, but actively and non-judgmentally invites the feeling and expression of these feelings.
The road to tragedies like Lewiston is paved with moments where connection was possible but missed, where understanding could have taken root but didn’t. Our challenge, then, is not merely to respond to violence but to preempt it with empathy, validating the individual long before their emotions curdle into something darker. It is within this space of proactive emotional connection that hope for a more compassionate world takes root and the path to wanton violence is prevented.