Showing posts with label Fort Hood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fort Hood. Show all posts
Thursday, February 18, 2010
The Austin Plane Crash
A man with years of tax troubles and disputes with the IRS crashed a small plane into the building that houses the IRS office in Austin, Texas this morning. Two people were injured and one is unaccounted for. It's not clear from the current coverage what happened to the pilot, although it seems likely that he is dead. Before crashing the plane, he had set fire to his home and left a six page letter/blog on the Internet explaining his actions.
Authorities have announced that this appears to be an isolated incident and that there is no ongoing threat. The Department of Homeland Security released a statement that said,
We do not yet know the cause of the plane crash. At this time, we have no reason to believe there is a nexus to terrorist activity. We continue to gather more information, and are aware there is additional information about the pilot's history.Press coverage has also emphasized the description of this as a suicide, and most outlets are referring to his writing as a suicide note and using words like "rambling" and "incoherent" to describe it.
I find this spin absolutely fascinating. Towards the end of his letter, the pilot wrote,
It has always been a myth that people have stopped dying for their freedom in this country. . . . I also know that by not adding my body to the count, I insure nothing will change. . . . I can only hope that the numbers quickly get too big to be white washed and ignored.If you read his writing all the way through (you can download it here), you will disagree with his conclusions but you will not find it hard to understand at all. It is not incoherent. He is very clear that he is angry at the government, why he is angry at the government, and that he is about to do this to draw attention to his grievances, cause other people to pay attention to his thinking and inspire others to also kill themselves in similar attacks.
Let's suppose you didn't know anything about this story. Suppose someone told you that a man, angry at the United States government and believing that its citizens should rise up against it, killed himself by flying an airplane into a building housing a government office. He left behind writing detailing his belief that the government is corrupt and encouraging others to similarly die for the cause of freedom. What is your mental image? Mine is not of a computer engineer. It's of a terrorist.
So why does DHS say this isn't terrorism? And why is the media reporting it as an incoherent suicide? Why does it seem so important to portray this person as crazy, while others, such as the Fort Hood shooter, are terrorists?
The practical difference is that this man has no links to any organized group that anyone can tell. When DHS says this isn't terrorism, they really mean this isn't organized terrorism, and they are right. There is also, frankly, and element of religious and/or racial profiling. Terrorists are Muslim and come from the Middle East, southern Asia or Northern Africa. Americans can't be terrorists.
The other reason it's important to us to maintain this distinction, however, is that it makes us feel safe. We have an image of terrorists that is truly frightening and represents an ongoing danger. The thing that keeps us from being scared out of our minds is that, for the most part, we believe them to be "over there" and not here. Those who may be here fit a certain profile and hence are easy to catch.
This pilot, on the other hand, isn't "over there." If he's a terrorist, then there's a much greater risk of terrorism than we would like to think about. There is no way to keep them out, because they're already in, and there is no way to figure out who they are. So we tell ourselves that this guy was crazy and suicidal. We know such people exist, and even that there is some danger from them, but they don't represent anything near the threat that terrorists do. They are isolated incidents.
A certain amount of psychological self-preservation is a reasonable thing. We do all sorts of things to prevent ourselves from being paralyzed by fear, and that is what allows us to function. Sometimes, however, it pays to take a step back and ask whether we are protecting ourselves from fear or simply being oblivious to the truth.
Topics:
Austin,
distancing,
fear,
Fort Hood,
media coverage,
perception of danger,
plane crash,
racism,
suicide,
terrorism,
Texas
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1 comments
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Update on the Post Office Standoff: What is the Definition of Terrorism?
The standoff at the post office in Wytheville, Virginia ended peacefully late last night. The gunman was taken into custody, and the three hostages (not five, as had been reported) were released. The gunman was arraigned today and is now awaiting a psychiatric evaluation. Former hostages and law enforcement authorities report that the man was upset at the government because his son had died in Afghanistan, his truck was being repossessed, and he thought the government was taxing citizens too highly and was taking away the right to bear arms.
There are two ways you can look at this situation. You could say that a mentally imbalanced, disabled man who has suffered some tremendous loss acted out in a crazy way. That's probably the way most people are inclined to see it. Alternately, you could say that an anti-government extremist commited an act of terrorism. That's an entirely different ballgame.
Does how we frame this incident matter? I think it does. How we choose to tell the story of incidents such as this affects how we see ourselves in relationship to them. If this is a crazy man acting in a crazy way, then it is random. We know that crazy people are out there, and when we allow ourselves to think about that it makes us pretty uneasy. But we also know that they are few and far between, and are not particularly looking for "us" when they act out. If we frame this as an act of terrorism, on the other hand, we -- all of us -- instantly become targets. Now, there are people out there who hate our government and want to harm our citizens. As citizens, we ourselves are on their list. While they may not be coming after us by name, they are coming after us.
You can see how the terrorism framework instantly transforms this from an issue of random danger to one of "us vs. them." But the gunman in this incident is an American. He may be a veteran, and he almost certainly is the father of a serviceman killed in action. That makes it very hard to frame this as us vs. them, because "they" are actually "us." This explains why people recoil at descriptions of "far right violent extremists." It's not only a political issue, it is one of self-preservation. If the "other side" is right here, then anyone around us could be a member, and any one of us could be in danger.
At the same time, however, we aren't being very consistent. An American Citizen, connected with the military, walks into a public place, motivated by anger at the United States, and starts shooting. Is he a terrorist or a crazy person? In the story we tell ourselves in this country, the thing that makes the difference isn't motive, it's identity. If the gunman is Muslim, as at Fort Hood, it's a terrorist attack. If the gunman is Christian, as he was yesterday, he's crazy. That distinction may be real in many of our minds, but if you take a step back, it's hard to say whether there really is any difference.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Reality Check: Hostages Taken at Virginia Post Office
A man in a wheelchair is, as I write this, holding at least 5 people hostage in the Wytheville, Virginia Post Office. We know he has a gun, and he has what he claims is 5 pounds of C-4 explosive strapped to his chest. The only demand he has made thus far, at least as far as police have reported, is for pizza.
This story especially caught my eye because I have been joking around all afternoon, giving people my latest "hot tip" -- on December 23, do not attempt to mail a package at the Inman Square Post Office in Cambridge, Massachusetts. As you might guess, I myself attempted this feat this morning. The post office in question is very small, and it was very busy this morning, as were, probably, most post offices in the United States, including the one in Wytheville.
Wytheville has a population of just 8,500 people. This is not a bustling metropolis, nor is it a place anyone would pick as a high profile terrorist target. I bring this up, because most of us, rightly or wrongly, have an idea in the back of our minds that, because terrorists with major government agendas tend to pick very public, large places to attack, that no one ever attacks small towns.
This is, if you think about it, obviously false. While it may be true that people with grandiose agendas pick places like the World Trade Center, the Oklahoma City Federal Building, Fort Hood, or even the Holocaust Museum, there are numerous examples of people with smaller agendas, or just pure mental illness and no agenda at all, who strike in much more random places. Those places are often small.
I often write about how trauma affects us, even from a distance, because we can make a personal connection to something about the event. Certain types of incidents, locations, motives, or any number of factors that can make us identify just that little bit more it takes to go from thinking an event is horrible to really taking it personally. For me, today, it is knowing that I mailed a package in a crowded post office today, and knowing that it is just random chance that there wasn't a gunman in a wheelchair with explosives coming after me.
Topics:
9-11,
Fort Hood,
hostage,
personal connection,
terrorism,
world view,
Wyethville post office
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0
comments
Monday, November 9, 2009
The Children of Fort Hood
As everyone knows by now, 13 people died and 30 were injured in a mass shooting at Fort Hood last Thursday. There has been a lot of focus, quite appropriately, on the people who died and on their families. There has also been some given to those who were wounded, some quite critically. And of course there has been an inordinate amount of speculation about the alleged shooter, who, reports say, is now awake and talking in the hospital.
It is impossible to predict how any individual person will be affected by Thursday's events. Some who you might expect to be very emotionally impacted will bounce back quickly, and some who seem to be on the periphery of the incident may be profoundly affected. As the CISM personnel work to triage those traumatized by the shooting -- those who lost a loved one, those who were shot, those who knew the shooter, those who witnessed the shooting, etc. -- there is one group that is probably giving them a little pause: the children.
To my knowledge there were no children present when the shooting started on Thursday. That means no children saw the scenes of violence first hand. But that in no way means that the children at Fort Hood aren't impacted, and they are going to need a lot of support. But we all know intuitively that helping children through these moments is different than helping adults, and few early crisis interventionists have any training at all in working with kids.
CNN reports that officials at Fort Hood have called in child psychologists as well as disaster management experts. That means the impact here is big -- bigger than what their town of 60,000 can handle on their own. It is a disaster, just as surely as a building collapse in a large-ish town that killed 13 and injured 30 would be, only probably worse, or at least different, for the families.
So why are the children impacted? There are numerous factors. First, these kids were on lockdown for several hours on Thursday. During that time, they did not know what was going on, where their parents were, if anyone in their family had been injured, or when they would see them again. If they looked out the window they saw what amounted to a live military operation going on outside of their schools, and for all they knew the "bad guy" was coming for them next.
Some of these children, of course, lost a parent in the shooting or have a parent who was injured. If not, they almost certainly have a neighbor or friend who was impacted. They went to school on Thursday morning believing that they were OK in school and their parents were OK at work, and came home knowing that very well might not be true at any given moment.
I've often said that trauma violates our world view. For these kids, that is doubly true. All of us need to believe that the world is generally a safe place, and this incident took away that belief from these children. But it also took away something else. It took away their visceral understanding that soldiers -- parents -- who are stateside are safe, and that danger lies in the war zone. A big part of how they can cope with having parents who put themselves in harm's way for a living is by telling themselves that the fact that they come home means they are OK. Now, 13 people who were stateside, who were home, are not coming home any more.
So what do we do for these kids? That depends, of course, on what they need. I suspect the days, weeks and months ahead will hold a lot of crayons and paper, a lot of tissues, and a lot of nightmares for some of these kids. Watching parents ship out is going to be really hard. Watching them come home is going to be surreal. So while we're honoring the dead and thanking our troops, particularly during Wednesday's Veteran's Day celebration, let's take a moment to remember their kids, and to thank them for all they give up in service to our country, too.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Fort Hood: What Compassion Fatigue Is, and Isn't
As we all know by now, the alleged shooter in the Fort Hood massacre is a psychiatrist. There is a lot of speculation in the media right now that he suffered from "compassion fatigue," "vicarious traumatization," "secondary trauma" or "secondary PTSD." In many of these articles these terms are used interchangeably. The basic idea of all of these articles is that the shooter's treatment of people who had been traumatized caused his own traumatization. However, since virtually none of the reporters involved had ever heard of compassion fatigue before Thursday, there is a lot of oversimplification of the facts in the search for answers.
I have no first-hand information about whether this man suffered from compassion fatigue or anything else, and I (unlike both those who think he did and those who think this was religiously-motivated terrorism) am not going to speculate. We have absolutely no facts at all on which to base a diagnosis. What I do have, however, is some information about compassion fatigue that might be helpful at least in understanding what everyone is talking about.
There are two big risks that people who work with trauma victims face: burnout and compassion fatigue. Burnout is just what it sounds like, and just what it is in any line of work. It's the slow and steady deterioration of satisfaction with your job and your willingness and ability to do it well. It's what makes you not want to get up and go to work in the morning. Burnout can be associated with the stressfulness of the job, and listening to people's trauma is stressful. Among trauma interventionists, burnout manifests in not caring much about the stories you hear or the people who tell them, in not doing what you know needs to be done for them, and in quitting your job or volunteer position.
The second risk is compassion fatigue. Compassion fatigue, unlike burnout, usually comes on fast. A single story or a small set of them get to you in a serious way, and you start showing the same symptoms you would if you were exposed to a traumatic event: trouble sleeping, irritability, impaired judgment, appetite changes, nightmares, startling easily, etc. This is not the person who says, "Gee, I really don't feel like going to work today." This is the person who is afraid to get out of bed.
One of the most commonly used screening tools for burnout and compassion fatigue, as well as job satisfaction, in those who work with traumatized people, is the Professional Quality of Life Scale Compassion Satisfaction and Fatigue Subscales—Revision IV (Pro-QOL R-IV). Interestingly enough, when I went looking for a copy for reference for this post, I found it on the website for the Army Behavioral Health Provider Resiliency Training program.
Some of the questions on the Pro-QOL that relate specifically to compassion fatigue can help you understand what exactly it is:
- I jump or am startled by unexpected sounds
- I find it difficult to separate my personal life from my life as a helper
- I feel as though I am experiencing the trauma of someone I have helped
- I avoid certain activities or situations because they remind me of frightening experiences of the people I help
- As a result of my helping, I have intrusive, frightening thoughts
- I can't recall important parts of my work with trauma victims
Compassion fatigue and secondary PTSD are not synonymous. Post traumatic stress is a typical reaction of a normal person to an abnormal event. Post traumatic stress disorder is when it lasts, does not resolve, and interferes with functioning. Similarly, compassion fatigue is a normal hazard of the job. The vast majority of people who experience it get some support, back off their work for a while, and return to normal functioning.
So, could the shooter at Fort Hood have had secondary PTSD? Sure. Do we know that he did? No. And is it inevitable that someone in his position would be in that much trouble psychologically? Certainly not. Trauma is contagious, yes, but the contagion is also avoidable, given the right supports. What we don't know is whether this particular psychiatrist had those supports in place.
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Friday, November 6, 2009
No Easy Answers: The Why's and Wherefores of Fort Hood and Orlando
He had compassion fatigue. He was a Muslim. He had money problems. He was depressed. He was disgruntled. He didn't want to deploy. He was a terrorist. He was harassed. He faced discrimination. He hated his boss. He was turned down for unemployment. He blamed the company. He blamed the army. He should have been stopped.
Today, as America reels from the second mass shooting in as many days, the blogosphere and the traditional media are lighting up with commentary on why the shooters in the Fort Hood and Orlando killings did what they did. If you google the stories, you find headline after headline with various speculation about motive, interspersed with the occasional article referring to the motives in each shooting as a "mystery."
Human beings don't like uncertainty, as I discussed yesterday. And the media doesn't like to report anything nuanced, and certainly not "we don't know." Where's the human interest in that? So we look for answers, and sometimes the answers we come up with sound good . . . until you think about them.
The shooter at Fort Hood is a psychiatrist. He had treated many people who suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Now there is speculation that this experience caused him to be traumatized himself, and in turn caused yesterday's shootings. No sooner had that theory hit the airwaves then we had articles arguing the opposite -- that PTSD is not contagious, and we are just making excuses.
The truth is, PTSD is indeed contagious, in a documented phenomenon called "compassion fatigue" or sometimes secondary or vicarious traumatization. People who work with the traumatized are susceptible to symptoms of trauma themselves -- this is a documented phenomenon and there are documented ways to try to prevent it. But as much as compassion fatigue is a real thing, most people who have it don't shoot people. Saying that is the cause is much too simplistic.
The shooter is also Muslim, true. And yet, most people who are Muslim don't shoot people either. And if mass shootings are caused by being Muslim, how do we account for the Orlando shooter, who certainly wasn't, or the perpetrator in the Pittsburgh gym shootings, or at Virginia Tech, or Columbine? Why is the Fort Hood shooting "terrorism" and those are horrible violent crime?
In Orlando, the shooter almost certainly was a disgruntled former employee with money problems. This is all true. But how many thousands of people fit that description, and never hurt a fly? How many hurt themselves but not others? How do you know who is who and which is which. Unfortunately, you don't.
There is a lot of commentary today suggesting that we as a country are hesitant to admit the "truth" about Fort Hood, and I think they are right. But that truth isn't that the shooter was a Muslim terrorist. That truth is that we just don't know. We may someday, or we may not. And if we don't know, we can't know it won't happen again, and that scares us.
We want to think that if we exclude certain ethnicities or nationalities or religions from our lives, we will prevent the next shooting from happening to us. We want to believe that if we know the Fort Hood shooter was a terrorist, we can protect ourselves by staying away from terrorists. But in Orlando, we discovered that that isn't true either. And that scares us more, so we pretend there's no inconsistency there, no nuance. It seems we'd rather live with our bigotry in this country than with our fear of what is random.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Fort Hood: The Waiting is the Hardest Part
At least 12 people are dead and at least 31 injured in a shooting or shootings at Fort Hood, Texas this afternoon. One gunman, a soldier, is dead. Two others are in custody. By the time you read this -- indeed, by the time I finish writing it -- all of that information may turn out to be wrong. As the press says, this is a "breaking news story."
The shooting occurred almost two hours ago, but we still don't know what happened. Fort Hood, is on lockdown, or at least it was within the last half hour. So are the neighboring schools. Reports differ on how many gunmen there were and whether they are all accounted for. News like this, where the details are coming out piecemeal and the information is changing, are both extremely scary and also extremely hard to tear oneself away from.
This story is compelling for lots of reasons -- a lot of people are dead, the possibility of terrorism is on our minds, the dead are possibly servicemen and women who we presume to be safe before they are stateside. The fact that it's changing means that we don't want to turn off the news, because we want to know what happened and we aren't sure that we do. We have one set of facts now, and we might miss the next change if we break away. We want to understand.
The constantly changing nature of the story also adds to what is so traumatizing about an incident like this. Instead of hearing the news and reacting to it, we go through a seemingly infinite series of exposures. We hear the story, we experience the trauma or secondary trauma of it, and then new facts are announced and we experience it again.
This phenomenon was painfully obvious to me this afternoon as I drove with my daughter. When we got in the car I explained to her that there had been a shooting at a military base and a lot of people were dead, and that the news would be talking about it. At that time, the number of known dead was 7 with 20 injured, but I didn't tell her that. When the headlines came on, they announced that 12 people were dead and 31 injured, and I involuntarily winced. My daughter, on the other hand, was completely unphased. I was reacting to the new information, but for her the information hadn't really changed. I was traumatized again -- she wasn't.
Aside from that increase in the numbers, the most poignant and compelling part of this story thus far for me came in an offhand sentence in coverage by USA Today:
A spokeswoman for the City of Killeen, where the base is located, tells USA TODAY's Donna Leinwand the Army is "asking for EMTs because it's a mass casualty event."The term "mass casualty event" isn't one you hear in the newspaper a lot. If you work in emergency services or in crisis response, on the other hand, it is a term that has a lot of emotional charge. We talk about car accidents as having "multiple fatalities." Mass casualty events are huge. 9-11 was a mass casualty event, and even though this clearly has none of that scope, the seriousness of that kind of incident is invoked by using that term.
Another way to look at it is this: There are roughly 60,000 people at Fort Hood, and they have their own police, fire and ambulance service. Imagine what would have to happen in a town of 60,000 -- roughly the size of St. Cloud, Minnesota -- to completely overwhelm their ambulance service. It's bad.
This event will actually become less traumatic for everyone -- people there and people hearing about it on the news -- the minute the information stops changing. It may even feel anticlimactic. And then the real work begins.
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- Naomi Zikmund-Fisher
- is a clinical social worker, former school Principal and a Crisis Consultant for schools and community organizations. You can learn more about her at www.SchoolCrisisConsultant.com
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