The Need for a Community of Care – Both Inside and Out of School
I was particularly struck by the words of a middle school student in a focus group I facilitated recently. When asked, "What do you need most from your school?" the student replied, "To wake up and not grieve coming here every day." This conversation took place with students in Georgia, just days before the tragic shooting at Apalachee High School in Winder, which claimed the lives of two students and two teachers.
Those words resonated with me at the time and resurfaced days later, as I watched news coverage of the tragedy unfolding just miles from where my own two children attend school. “I need to not grieve coming here every day” echoed in my mind again the next afternoon, as I sat with students who had just emerged from a lockdown at their middle school, one of several lockdowns that occurred in schools across Georgia in response to a rise in statewide threats. As these students described the fear and uncertainty they had just experienced, I was struck by how they seemed conditioned to almost expect what was a traumatic experience for them to be the norm at school. When asked the same question—"What do you need most from your school?"—they responded: To feel safe so we can learn. To have guidance and support. To be seen and known. To feel valued. To discover our strengths and talents. To help us connect the dots between what we are learning and who we are.
In other words: Not to grieve coming here every day.
The student I spoke with last week was brave enough to share an experience that is all too common among young people today. According to a Measure of America study, Georgia has one of the highest rates of disengaged youth—defined as individuals ages 16-23 who are neither in school nor working (Lewis, 2023). Suicide is the second-leading cause of death for people under 24 in the United States. Since 2009, rates of depression have risen more quickly in teens and young adults than in older age groups (Twenge et al., 2019). In Georgia, 13% of 12- to 17-year-olds experienced at least one major depressive episode in 2022 (Reinert et al., 2021). These troubling trends, exacerbated and made more visible by the pandemic, have been developing for over a decade, with a significant increase in nearly every negative indicator of adolescent mental health. For example, between 2011 and 2021, there was a 49% increase in persistent sadness and hopelessness among high school students (Braganza & Lin, 2024). Our young people are hurting.
Because school shootings happen in schools, it's easy to place the burden of preventing them at the feet of school and district leaders. We talk about the need for better prevention and detection systems, more technology to minimize mass casualties, additional school resource officers, K-9 units, and stricter access to guns. We discuss adding more school counselors, installing metal detectors, and requiring clear backpacks. We run countless drills to ensure children as young as Pre-K know when to hide, run, or fight. Yet none of these solutions address the underlying reality: our young people are feeling increasingly sad, hopeless, lonely, disconnected, and disengaged. That threat is real, and it is already in the building.
Aaron Stark, who shares his personal story in a TED Talk titled "I Was Almost a School Shooter," suggests that part of the solution is creating a different experience—not just of school but of life—for young people. That experience must look, feel, and function as a true Community of Care–where community members are a part of both giving and receiving support, fellowship, wisdom, friendship, and building a shared sense of purpose and meaning. This is challenging in our increasingly disconnected and isolated culture, where adults themselves are experiencing an epidemic of loneliness. So, where can we begin?
Start with a simple act of kindness. As Stark powerfully testifies, it was one friendship and an act of kindness that literally saved him and the people he intended to harm. He urges us to offer kindness to those who we believe deserve it the least. Talk to your children about the power of your words and extending a hand. Engage in an act of kindness. Start today.
Invest in the children and families in your community. Many organizations are looking for volunteers to mentor, advocate, and support young people. Donate your time to one of these organizations. For example, CASA supports and promotes court-appointed volunteer advocacy for children and youth who have experienced abuse or neglect. Of the 8,649 youth currently in foster care in Georgia, only 3 out of 10 have a CASA. Research shows that having at least one caring adult in a young person’s life increases their chances of flourishing and can reduce feelings of sadness, depression, and despair (Scales & Leffert, 1999; Child Trends, 2013). If you're thinking, "I'm a busy working parent and have no time to spare," I understand—I’ve had those same thoughts. But even one hour less of scrolling on your phone and one more hour spent volunteering at a shelter, clinic, school, coaching a sports team or supporting a community organization can make a difference. Investing in the life of a young person or a neighbor in need will not only benefit them but also enhance your own sense of connection and well-being. Building a Community of Care isn’t just for children—it’s for us too.
Support public education leaders. If we want our public schools to be places of engaging, enriching, and meaningful learning—schools that young people say they need—each of us has a role to play. Supporting the adults who set the tone for learning is essential. "Support" could be as simple as sending a note of appreciation to a bus driver, teacher, nutrition director, principal, school board member, or superintendent. A simple thank you for their tireless work can go a long way. While you’re writing that note, they are probably preparing tomorrow’s lesson, comforting a student, grabbing a quick bite between classes, addressing a concerned parent, or greeting your child with a smile—all while grappling with the same fears and uncertainties as the rest of us. It can also look like suspending judgment and engaging in civil discourse with others who may think, look, or feel differently than you do. Practicing civility, respect and care for our neighbors and school leaders as we work together to ensure our schools are places of safety and learning is a way to help build the type of schools—and world—our young people deserve.
There aren’t enough officers or detection devices in the world to address what is fundamentally a crisis of belonging, connection, self-worth, and sense of meaning and value among our young people. If we are to truly ensure the safety and security of our children, we need to also invest in acts of kindness, advocacy, support and care for those in our community who need it most. We can—and must—do better.
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Jennie Welch, Ph.D. is Vice President of Strategy at GLISI and a Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA) for the Athens-Oconee chapter.