Abstract

Outside of its finality, perhaps nothing is more pronounced about death than its abruptness. It comes at times like a lion in the night. Swift and silent. Sharp and unassuming in the moment. Final. And, so often quick.
The conversation for this editorial began in April 2023. On April 10th, on the first floor of the Old National Bank on East Main Street in Louisville, Kentucky, five people were killed and eight others were wounded in a mass shooting at a regional bank.
Louisville, Kentucky was shut down. A standstill.
Tonette reached out to Brad because the location of the shooting was close to where Brad works at the University of Louisville. We started with this email exchange: Tonette: I’m sorry about what happened in Louisville and Tennessee. I wondered how close you and yours were to that area. It was close enough to campus. Unfortunately, I see just an increase in such tragedies b/c we have created a culture via (all forms) media that supports gun violence as the proper response to a slight and we have folks like DeSantis eliminating common sense gun laws while fewer people are raised to respect guns and understand how to handle them. And it’s just sad and scary to know none of us is safe at all from such events. Brad: I knew one of the victims personally; [redacted for privacy] was married to [redacted for privacy], who is a co-author with me on the research we published in HRDQ. We did much of that work at Old National Bank, with many of the people who lost their lives yesterday. I have had dinner at their house, talked with them many times, and [redacted for privacy] was an amazing person. It was crazy knowing someone whose name was read on the news last night at 6:30. Crazy day—
Brad recalls getting a text alert on his phone earlier that day, alerting him to the unfolding scene downtown from the University of Louisville.
SITUATION CONTAINED. LMPD SECURRING THE AREA. AVOID 300 BLOCK OF E MAIN STREET.
Watching the news was a surreal experience. Juxtaposed against the still recent and raw footage of the aftershock of the Breonna Taylor shooting, and seeing, —once again, the city in which he lives in total unrest and hurting. So many people still hurting and alone. On April 10th, Brad knew two people who worked in the Old National Building. And one of them never walked out. Brad and his wife wept on their couch. Not knowing how to feel, or what to say. A few days later, he attended visitation. Alone. By his choice.
In 2020, Brad and I reflected on the loss through death of a work colleague and friend discussing workplace responsibilities and the struggles colleagues have with wanting to help and being impotent to help in a meaningful way. We referred to Kübler-Ross’s (1969) insightful book On Death and Dying and “our inability to discuss death, avoidance of the issues and concerns experienced by those who are dying, caring for the dying, or who care for them” (Rocco & Shuck, 2020, p. 1). We were concerned at the time about an organization’s response to the death of a colleague and the lack of support, or even consideration of the emotional toll a colleague’s death creates in co-workers and work friends.
In this editorial, we are once again concerned about workplace violence, mass shootings, and gun violence and its effect on us as human beings, parents, and workers. We raise the issue and call for work in this area. We see incidents of workplace violence, mass shootings, and gun violence on the news. Politicians and activists speak after each incident seeking changes in gun laws and offering prayers for the victims and their families. Thoughts and prayers. So many thoughts.
As citizens, we may speak about the issues involved from our perspectives and as teachers, we may discuss workplace violence in our classes. Our students are workers, most are leaders and managers, and many of our students and colleagues have been touched by more violence than we can even imagine. In a crowded room of classroom chairs, even just those sitting in the front two rows have seen and experienced more violence than we could shoulder.
But in many ways, our conversations about the issues separating workplace violence and mass shootings, are superficial. Surface-level. It is, as if, mass shootings do not occur in someone’s—your—workplace, and they are not yet real. Tangible. Hurtful. Unimaginable. Yet, Brad has the text messages, emails, and personal relationships to suggest otherwise. Violence of any kind is tangible. Hurtful. And, unimaginable. It is also sharp. And, abrupt.
At present, faculty are not trained to assist students who have witnessed workplace violence. Nor are we prepared to help a colleague who has experienced the violent and sudden death of a friend or co-worker. Yet, Brad in our 2020 editorial, shared that as an administrator and instructor when tragic events occur such as a mass shooting, he would open up faculty/employee meetings or class sessions asking if anyone wanted to share or talk through anything. He learned this from his experience processing the events of 9/11 as an undergraduate in 2001.
As educators, creating spaces where students can process tragic events creates moments where deep learning can occur. Students sharing stories of how a current tragic event affected them could stimulate discussion in class about differences in our perspectives and reactions to the events as well as allow students a healthy healing process in the moment. Our ability to impact the lives of our co-workers and students, by simply creating a space for talking, could be the corner they need to turn in the moment. But, doing so takes courage. It may be emotional. And it could be awkward. But—, it is worth it.
As we move forward and look into 2024, we should be prepared. There will be a next incident. It will come. Unfortunately. And, as a colleague, educator, friend, partner, and spouse, you should be prepared to get a text message. Or an alert on the news. Consider your response and your level of comfort. Put your health and safety first, and then with everything you have, reach out to those you love and those in front of you. You might be the only person who does.
Footnotes
Author Note
The workplace response to mass shootings at Florida International University, where Tonette works, is to have active shooter trainings (which are necessary) in each building on campus simulating a real event. The response to actual mass shootings in schools is to increase counseling services, police presence, require clear backpacks, and other such measures. Until society changes our attitudes toward gun violence as a solution to a negative emotion directed at other human beings these deaths will continue to happen, despite any amount of police presence or training or the most well-intentioned thoughts and prayers.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
