In the past three weeks our Dallas/Fort Worth community has been rocked by a trilogy of murder, deviant parenting and the loss of a promising young life.
First we watched in agony as a young mother egged her middle-school age daughter into fisticuffs with another young lady; we reacted in horror at the news that a nineteen-year old young man had been pushed to his death in front of a train because he refused to give up his Ipod; and we were shocked at yet another incident of domestic violence when a young man, apparently distraught regarding the end of his relationship, gunned down his children’s mother, her stepfather and her younger sister’s boyfriend.
It is tempting to wag our heads in disbelief and dismiss the above incidents as common occurrence. Then we don’t have to accept our responsibility.
We must, however, view what happened with a different set of cultural lens. Then we’d see the nexus of parenting, relationships and the perplexing issues touching our youth. We’d see the three incidents not as isolated events, but rather as a continuum of the decline in values that has rocked our country and, by default, our community.
The common ingredient in all three scenarios is violence. We live in a violent culture; our relationships are touched with conflict. The messages we get on an almost daily basis is use force to get what you want. Hence, a mother teaches her young daughter to use her fists; a group of young men use group intimidation; a man employs a bullet.
What’s happened to us? How did we fall so low? And, most crucially, who is responsible?
It’s easy to point out fingers in all three incidents. But here’s the greater point: in a very real sense, all of us – by default – is responsible. We all share in the plot and execution of every conceivable incident of crime in our community when precious lives are taken and even more precious lives are left in tatters.
I am responsible when I don’t use my God-given voice to speak to a person reeking with self-destructive behaviors. Each of the offending parties comes from a family unit. Somebody had to catch wind of a young mother’s angry spirit; somebody had to witness the slow descent of one of those young men into the abyss of negative peer pressure; surely someone had to glimpse the despair of a young man who didn’t quite know how to handle the end of a relationship. And maybe someone did try to intervene at some point, at some time. But was it enough? Could more have been done?
But maybe it’s you reading this piece that may need the most attention. I have been for the last year embroiled in a bitter child visitation and access war with the mother of my youngest son. Words have been exchanged; no doubt insults hurled. But at the forefront of my mind I keep this one positive truth: it doesn’t have to be this way. And that leads me to find other, more diplomatic routes to intervention. But we can commit to doing better, to take a more active role in the lives of those whom we know to be spiraling out of control. We may or may not change outcomes, but in the end what counts is having tried. In trying, we at least prevent the ruined lives left in the wake of tragedy.
