When threat comes near

It is possible to discover stability and hope even while awful possibilities lurk

I live in a county seat community in west-central Minnesota where the population has grown with no decline since the first census taken here in 1880. (I learned this fact as a participant in a new short-term community education opportunity called the Willmar Government Academy). Currently my community has around 20,000 residents, nestled in the heart of agricultural industriousness. It is a settled, quiet-enough (some, especially twenty-something’s, say too quiet) place, where generally neighbors respect one another and life is calm. Even with the recent intrusion of ICE in unseemly ways, it feels like a safe place to live. If I were a parent of school-aged kids, this would be a place I would want to raise my family.

But even here in this idyllic setting there are challenges. We have one of the highest rates for alcohol and substance use issues in the state. There are pockets of racial prejudice that thirty years’ of living with natively Spanish-speaking and Somali-American neighbors have not resolved. Like any other community, there are darkened corners and shadowed locations where illicit activities take place.

And yesterday after the school day ended, the public school administration received a threat of potential violence. The threat, of course, is taken seriously, and no one is permitted on any school property for the duration of this day as school administrators and local law enforcement thoroughly investigate the situation. I know that in larger metropolitan or suburban locations, threats like this are possibly more to be expected, but in small-town America, we like to think we are immune from such possibility. It’s disorienting when threat comes near, whether of a public type like this, or of a more individualized, personal one like a physical or mental health crisis or a loved one’s death.

I appreciate the way the local School Superintendent has handled this threat. Shortly after the threat was received, a notification went to parents and community members, acknowledging the situation, with clear next steps in the process. The announcement was factual, pithy and not laden with emotion to create panic. It expressed confidence that between administration and law enforcement, all the necessary follow-up steps are being taken. The calm assurance (though not stated) is that tomorrow school will be on track once again.

There’s something instructive in this process that applies to moments when each of us faces threat as well. When I successfully navigate threat in my life, it looks something like this.

Identify the threat factually

If you are an intuitive person, you may feel a sense of un-ease or bodily discomfort that makes you feel edgy. Take time to identify what is creating that disturbance. If you are more of an objective person, it may be immediately obvious.

Give the threat the attention it deserves and no more

Some of us (preaching to myself here) have a tendency to catastrophize when faced with a threat, which is to say taking a situation to its worst possible outcome prematurely. Is your threat a medical crisis? Listen carefully to what you hear, give the attention it deserves, but don’t allow yourself to further disintegrate. If your threat is the death of someone close, allow yourself to see the situation for what it is: the cessation of your loved one’s life. Face it honestly, grieve it well, but don’t allow yourself to immediately begin planning your own funeral.

Delineate the steps to address the threat

You have honestly seen the threat. Now it’s time to take next steps. Focus on rationally determining what you need to do. (You may need the assistance of a trusted family member or friend to help you if you find your mental state discombobulated). Understand that addressing the threat does not mean that somehow you could have prevented the situation (and even if you could have, you are no longer in a position to do anything about that). This is not the time for retrograde introspection. It’s the time for a short series of next steps.

Come to a tentative conclusion

The truth is that we can never completely shield ourselves from threat. The world is too uncertain of a place for that. But once the threat has arrived, we acknowledge it for what it is, we made a plan to address it, and then we reach a tentative conclusion (again knowing that life is by nature unpredictable, our conclusion could change). Once we have a tentative conclusion, we remain open to other possibilities, but we rest in knowing we have done all we know to do in a particular situation. This tentative conclusion means we no longer need to perseverate, or wonder what next bad thing is coming our way, or ask if somehow we are cursed with “bad luck” for the duration of our life. We simply stop ourselves and trust we have done what we need to do for now.

Find a sign of reassurance

This may or may not be obvious, and it may or may not even happen. However, I have found that when I am in the midst of a threat or reflecting on a threat I have encountered, if I take the time I often find something to reassure myself that all, one way or the other, will be well. A few moments ago, for example, as I was considering today’s local school closure due to a threat, I was taken in my memory to all the horrific school shootings that have occurred in our country in the past decade or more. As I glanced out my sunroom windows, lamenting the loss of precious little lives due to violence in our world, I saw a movement on the tree branches.

There is often movement there now that Spring is getting close; my avian friends are happy to stop by for seeds from my feeder, and I have become accustomed to the blur of activity, most of which is in the black and grey and white modes (think chickadees and sparrows). This morning, though, I saw what appeared to be a triangulated, notched tuft of head feathers, and I looked more closely.

This was a bird of brighter coloration, and the further I looked, the greater the surprise. It was a cardinal. The first cardinal I have ever seen at my new home, a species I have been waiting to see for months now, disappointed each day to never have a red-hued visitor to my feeder. This morning, in the midst of my mental lamentations, I saw evidence of hope.

And wouldn’t you know … the mascot for the public schools in my community is a cardinal.

I may be making too many unwarranted connections in this whole thing, but I think rather than analyze that too much, I am simply going to rest in the assurance that this moment in time is a gift from nature, reminding me that in the midst of threat, Love is always stronger.