Opinion: Don't Rush the Healing

The whole country is mourning for the victims in Tucson, Ariz. This week, we'll face the funerals, ushering in a whole new wave of grief.

And then, quite abruptly, most of us will tune out. The length of public interest varies by tragedy, but the pattern is always the same. We put the event behind us and move on.

And we expect our victims to do the same. We will cut them slack, of course. They can grieve all month if they need to, maybe longer. It's healthier to move on, though. The sooner they can accept it the better.

Slap yourself the first time you hear that thought in your head. Do not let it escape your mouth.

The biggest lesson I learned in 10 years covering the massacre at Columbine High School was the pain we collectively inflicted upon the victims with our rush to get them healed.

I have followed countless shooting tragedies since then, and we do the same thing every time.

It's an admirable goal, and the media takes on the role of cheerleader. We really want these people to get better. It's important for our healing to see they're making it through.

It rarely occurs to us what a selfish desire that is. It is not healthy to rush them. It's cruel. And pointless. They cannot change their pace if they wanted to. And they don't want to.

I went into the process ignorant, with wildly unrealistic expectations. The victim advocates knew. Whether it's a monumental crime like 9/11 or Oklahoma City, or a car crash, it takes weeks or months for most victims to even address their grief. Until then, many feel little of anything: no pain, no pleasure, no emotional response. Numb.

Fewer than 48 hours after Columbine, The Denver Post ran the banner headline, "Healing Begins." Counselors and pastors cringed. Not even close.

We're a few days out now, so expect those sentiments shortly. After the funerals, life begins returning to normal. No. Know better; don't buy in.

The animosity will grow worst in Arizona, closest to the tragedy, where local coverage will likely live on and on. Local residents typically begin to grumble after several weeks. Compassion fatigue. We can only take so much.

The best thing local media can do is give the story a break. Yes, there will be a market for every story you run. You will continue getting viewers, hits and eyeballs. But at what cost? The victims will generally hate the extended spotlight. They want to grieve, quietly.

More than 10 years after Columbine, I went back for lengthy interviews with some of the victims. Linda Mauser, whose son Daniel had been killed, described breaking down in her dental hygienist chair.

"Oh," the hygienist said. "Did your child die recently?"

"When your child dies, it's always recent," Linda said.

Many victims describe it that way. The memory never dims.

But there is no universal response. Val Schnurr was taken down by a shotgun blast in the library, her arm and abdomen riddled with wounds. She barely lived through it. Five years out, the media descended on Columbine searching for upbeat "They Got Over It" stories, Val said. She didn't want to look like a loser. Her life was still a mess.

We will return to Tucson in five years to check in on these people, and many will still be distraught. Keep that in mind at the one-year anniversary, and the two.

Val did get over it. She had to forgive her attackers to get there. Not every victim goes that route, but for Val, it was a huge burden lifting off.

Ten years after, Val described crawling away from the killers. Telling the story provoked no tears. She was a social worker now -- she had found her calling, found a boyfriend, and life was good.

"To be happy and successful is the biggest F-you to them," she said. "They wanted me dead. I'm alive. I get to be happy."

Val is happy. But it took awhile.

Dave Cullen is the author of "Columbine," a haunting portrait of two killers and their victims. "Columbine" won the Edgar Award and Barnes & Noble's Discover Award, among others, and was named to nearly two dozen Best of 2009 lists. A Columbine Instructor Guide is now available on the Web at no charge. Read Cullen's blog on Red Room.