United Methodists experience firsthand trauma of school shootings
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A UMNS photo by Sandra Brands John Robinson is a dentist and administrator of the reservation hospital.
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John
Robinson, dentist and administrator of the Red Lake Reservation
hospital, was working in a dental clinic on March 21 when he looked out
his window and saw an ambulance race towards the hospital. Moments
later, he learned there had been a shooting at Red Lake High School. A
UMNS photo by Sandra Brands. Photo #05-294. Accompanies UMNS story #221,
4/14/05 |
April 14, 2005 A UMNS Report By Sandra Brands* Until
a teenage boy went on a shooting spree in March, few outsiders paid
much attention to the people of the Red Lake Band of Ojibwe in northern
Minnesota. Molly Miron did. As editor of the Bemidji Pioneer, Miron has covered the reservation and its people for years. John
Robinson, dentist and administrator of the reservation hospital, and
George Stowe, executive director of the North Star Chapter of the Red
Cross, did as well. They both work side by side with the tribe to
provide care and treatment throughout the year. And
Deb Brooks, a special education teacher at Red Lake High, not only
worked with and for the people of Red Lake, she now shares one of their
most recent experiences: the trauma and grief of trying to understand
what would make a 16-year-old boy pick up a rifle and shoot family,
friends and protectors. All
four have something else in common: all are members of Bemidji United
Methodist Church and were on site as the events of March 21 at Red Lake
Reservation unfolded. After
killing his grandfather, a retired tribal policeman, and his
grandfather’s companion, student Jeff Weise armed himself with a shotgun
and two pistols and, shortly before 3 p.m. that day, killed eight other
people and wounded seven more before killing himself. “My
first experience was hearing what sounded like gunshot,” Brooks said.
“My kids went racing to the door. Someone was yelling, ‘Fight! Fight!’
The kids listened to me for a change when I told them to stay back. I
told them it sounded like it could be gunfire, and to get into lock
down.” Lock
down, Brooks explained, is a state of emergency in the event intruders
or snipers enter the school with intent to harm. Doors are locked and
students are ordered to take cover away from windows and doors and under
desks. “There’s
a whole wall of outside windows from waist up in my classroom and two
windows in the other corner of the room by the door,” she said. “I told
my kids to get someplace down on the floor where they wouldn’t be
visible from any windows.” In
the wake of the 1999 killings at Columbine High School and other school
shootings, teachers are supposed to keep their doors locked at all
times, Brooks explained. But “it’s almost impossible to do that,
especially in special education, because the students go from classroom
to classroom during the day.” The
doors, which do not lock on the inside, must be locked from outside
with a key. Brooks, like other teachers that day, immediately stepped
into the hallway to lock the door. “I
don’t even remember if I looked down the hallway,” she said. “I was
already in an unreal state of mind. All we could hear in our room was
gunfire. We didn’t hear anyone screaming. You could hear people running
in the hall and you didn’t know who it was, and then eventually, it came
over the intercom that it was over and we were to evacuate the
building. “It seemed like it went on for a long time. Evidently, it was 10 or 15 minutes,” she said. Emergency response Robinson
was in the middle of a dental clinic when he looked out his window and
saw an ambulance race toward the hospital. Moments later, he learned
there had been a shooting at the high school. By the time he arrived in
the emergency room, the scene was frenzied. Doctors, EMTs, nurses,
maintenance workers and housekeeping staff had poured in, ready to help.
Normally,
Robinson said, two physicians work in the emergency room. A third
doctor and a nurse practitioner work in the outpatient clinic. While the
Red Lake Hospital, part of the federal public health system, has urgent
care and a small number of beds, its care tends to emphasize clinics
and preventive medicine. As
more and more victims were raced to the hospital, the emergency room
began to fill. Robinson estimates there were dozens of people, with at
least three people working with each victim at any one time. “We didn’t
know how many to expect. As one victim came in, another went out.” Like
all hospitals after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, Red Lake
Hospital had created a uniform disaster plan to deal with emergencies,
Robinson said. “We have been doing drills, but this cemented (the
necessary response) in our minds. But we never really thought it would
be something like this.” The
first 20 minutes after a shooting are crucial, Robinson said. A medical
team must try to stabilize a patient in that brief window of time.
Ambulances from surrounding communities raced to the scene, and two
helicopters and a fixed-wing plane had been called in to transport the
most seriously wounded victims to North County Hospital in Bemidji, 35
miles away, or farther, to MeritCare Children’s Hospital in Fargo, about
170 miles away. “As
the events unfolded, we started calling people back in to work—some who
were on vacation,” Robinson said. Maintenance and housekeeping staff
helped keep families out of the emergency room. A
high school student called Miron almost immediately, voice shaking, to
alert her about the shootings. She checked with the police and the
district superintendent, then heard the calls for help on the scanner.
Within the hour, she was at the high school, covering the story. “The
whole episode took about 10 minutes,” she said. By the time she arrived
on the scene, people were reaching out to one another. “I had hugs
everywhere I went. People wanted to comfort.”
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A UMNS courtesy of Bemidji UMC Members of Bemidji United Methodist Church provided food to families, hospital staff and law enforcement officials
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County
emergency management called in the Red Cross, asking it to provide food
to the families, hospital staff and law enforcement officials. �It so
happened that all the volunteers who arrived were from the Bemidji
United Methodist Church,� said George Stowe, executive director of the
North Star Chapter of the Red Cross. Meals were prepared at the church
and sent to the reservation. A UMNS photo courtesy of Bemidji United
Methodist Church. Photo #05-295. Accompanies UMNS story #221, 4/14/05
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By 5 p.m., county emergency management had called the Red Cross, asking
it to provide food to the families, hospital staff and law enforcement
officials, Stowe said. A call went out to volunteers, he said.“It
so happened that all the volunteers who arrived were from the Bemidji
United Methodist Church,” he said. Meals were prepared at the church and
sent to the reservation. By 7 p.m., volunteers were serving food and coffee to those in need. “There’s
a great deal of emotion and caring in that situation,” Stowe said. “We
had families coming in, and we delivered food to families throughout the
early part of the evening. Your heart just breaks for what they’ve gone
through.” In the aftermath More
shocks were in store for the people of Red Lake. Days after the
shooting, the tribal chairman’s son, Louis Jourdain, 16, was taken into
custody by the FBI and charged with conspiracy in connection with the
shootings. There
is continued speculation that more arrests will follow. According to
news reports, authorities suspect up to 20 teens may have known about
Weise’s plans and as many as four more may have helped plan the attack.
Students have been questioned, and computers have been seized. And
after the announcement that the school would reopen April 11, the FBI
revealed it had received information that there might be a gun on school
property. No gun was found and school opened as planned. Any
community would be reeling in shock, and for the people of Red Lake,
the descent of the outside world on their small, private community has
only added to their grief. The interest of the politicians and the media
has been greeted with some cynicism and seems to have opened old
wounds. “The people (on the reservation) are naturally distrustful (of outsiders),” Miron said. “Think of it as a little town that people from all over the world have descended upon.” Robinson
agrees. “The Indian people feel a certain skepticism about outpouring
of good will right now. Is (that good will) going to be there in a year,
two years?” It is a rhetorical question echoed by many who have worked in and for the small community. Successful
organizations like the Red Cross have been there for years and built a
long-term relationship with the tribe, Stowe said. “People in Red Lake
are very private individuals, but I will tell you that they are among
the most gracious individuals on the face of the earth.” Robinson
suggests people who want to offer help should be patient and sensitive.
“Be ready for the long haul. It’s overwhelming right now—all the
national interest and the grief.” Long-term
support will be necessary, Miron said. Various funds have been set up
to help the tribe in its recovery. According to Miron, the Northwest
Minnesota Foundation is managing all donations as well as matching
contributions. Details are available at http://www.nwmf.org/html/home.htm. Immediately
after the shootings, teachers and staff began meeting to plan for
reopening the school and to address concerns and needs. “We’ve (the
teachers) been meeting almost every day since this happened,” Brooks
said. “If we weren’t meeting at the school, we were meeting at a funeral
or a wake. “The
parents wanted to thank us for keeping what kids we could safe. The
school board wanted to thank us. Everyone was opening their arms,
wanting to adopt us in their families,” she said. “My
prayers are focused on this tragic event that something good comes out
of it, something good for the Red Lake people,” Stowe said. For Brooks, some good is already coming out of the tragedy. “I’ve
seen a community that has experienced a lot of dysfunction and anger,”
she said, “and I’ve seen people pull together and really back each other
up. I’m so thankful and so relieved that the community has pulled
together and they’re supporting one another.” That
support is so important, Brooks said. “When a school goes through this,
the first need is to be with everyone who was in that building and be
able to share your individual experience. You want to know where
everyone was, what they experienced right down to the grisly details. “It
feels morbid,” she admitted, “but it’s really important. I haven’t met
anyone (who went through this) who didn’t want to do that.” Brutal images continue to haunt Brooks, keeping her awake. “You
have good days and bad days,” she said. “You have nights when you’re so
exhausted that you sleep really well, other nights when you’ll sleep
fitfully and wake up. You’ll be haunted by what you don’t know as well
as what you do know (about the shootings). “I just have to be prepared to go with how I am (feeling) at any given time,” she said. Traditional values The
sensational nature of the high school shootings has brought Red Lake
Reservation, and to a lesser extent, the Native American community, to
international attention. The shootings are symptomatic of deep problems
that have been part of the Native American community for years, said the
Rev. David Wilson, superintendent of the United Methodist Church’s
Oklahoma Indian Missionary Conference. A
member of the Choctaw tribe, Wilson said problems such as alcoholism,
diabetes, suicide, unemployment and chemical abuse occur in higher
percentages in the Native American community. Like the Ojibwe elders, he
believes the loss of traditions contributes to the low self-esteem many
Native American youth experience. “There
are a lot of self-esteem issues facing the young people because of the
displacement of native culture,” he said. “Our culture defines who we
are, and if all you see is the negative view of Native American culture,
it can lead to a loss of self-worth. “For
most native communities and reservations, community is very much about
who we are,” Wilson said. “For Jeff Weise to feel left out of that
community—that’s not the norm. Community and family are a very big part
of Native American culture.” In
stories published since the Red Lake shootings, tribal elders have
echoed Wilson’s statements, saying that if children had more connection
to their traditions, the high school shootings would not have
happened. “If you see the traditions, learn the culture, it becomes a very positive thing,” Wilson said. Brooks
agrees with those who suggest that more connection to their cultural
traditions might have prevented this and other tragedies. “The kids are
quite often not as closely attached to the traditions as the elders,”
she said. “It’s a really tough world to grow up in for youth today;
things are so different.” She
suggests that the Internet has become a substitute for interest in the
community. “When you live in an isolated community like Red Lake, the
Internet is a way to get out. There’s not a lot to do in Red Lake, and I
hope that’s one of things that will change.” Some
changes are already under way, she said, changes that will help youth
in the community connect to their traditional culture and give them
chances to take part in experiential activities such as building a sweat
lodge or getting to know elders by helping in the community. “The
elders are pretty distraught with what’s happening with young people
there,” she said. “It’s really, really sad for them because they’re
seeing all their culture blow away in the wind.” The
Rev. Don Goodwin, pastor of Pine Bend United Methodist Church on
Minnesota’s White Earth Reservation, agrees. “If you’re brought up with
respect for the elders, yourself, your people, if you’re taught that the
Creator put us here for a reason, that you’re a gift, you do not
destroy that gift from the Creator.” *Brands is the editor for print and electronic publications for the Minnesota Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church. News media contact: Kathy L. Gilbert, Nashville, Tenn., (615) 742-5470 or newsdesk@umcom.org.
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