Remembering Columbine

Yesterday was the 10 year anniversary of the shootings at Columbine High School. I remember it well. I remember seeing the TV coverage. I remember working at the local public library after school the next week and having a shiver of fear run down my spine when a boy I didn't recognize came in wearing a long black trench coat. I remember the bomb threats that filled the school days for the rest of my senior year of high school. I remember the fear, the confusion, the uncertainty that filled that time. I remember indignation at the school district when they did not tell us what was going on during what was the second bomb threat following Columbine. I remember being so mad at the kids who made those threats because they wanted to avoid a test or sleep in. I remember wondering what I would do if I were in a similar situation. I remember the horrific thought of what would I feel if it were my friends who were harmed. I remember those days very well.

Now, I look back to it from another perspective. We've seen horrific events at schools and colleges around the world. Now I look at it as one of those moments where I had to grow up a bit more. My world wasn't as safe as I thought it was.

What makes me pause, have every muscle tighten into a painful knot and a rock form in my stomach is the fear that something akin to it might happen at one of the many schools in the area here. We've had tragedies - near deaths, untimely deaths due to illness or crime. But they came one by one. They were often personal tragedies and rarely affected more than a small portion of our youth ministry as we have anywhere from 5-13 high schools feed into our ministry in any given year. In those smaller tragedies, I've gotten the early phone call telling me I am needed at the church, at the Catholic school, a public school counseling department. I go. I listen. I talk. I pray. Mostly, I feel inadequate. But we carry on with the ministry, with the pastoral care of those youth, with life.

I cannot fathom what it was like for the community at Columbine. I cannot fathom being the youth minister at one of those churches. Particularly the church that buried three youths that was mentioned in the Catholic Youth Ministry Blog. Should anyone who was a minister in the area ever read this, you have my utmost respect and most fervent prayers for your peace and those of the youth you ministered to and with during that time.

Maybe at some level the frustrations and fears of that time contributed to the matrix of experiences and decisions leading me into youth ministry. I don't know. I had not ever really thought about it before. I wish I would have had a youth ministry where I could share the concerns, find comfort in faith, and the pastoral care that I unknowingly craved.

For all the joy, all the statements I heartily agree to about how much fun my job is, the fact of the matter is that when push comes to shove, we have a difficult task. I would not have it any other way.