But the discussion that immediately sprang up in the community of which I am a part disgusts me. I am talking about the Asian-American community’s obsession over the fear of retribution. The naked relief from the non-Korean entities that the killer did not come from their ranks; the desperate apologies and conciliatory gestures from the Korean community, having drawn the short straw. What inhumane self-centeredness!

My comment…

I think it’s a normal reaction given the values of many asian cultures. Even Asian-Americans are heavily influenced by the shame-based cultures many of them grow up around. As far removed as some Asian-Americans think they are from their ancestral cultures, there is still often a sense that the public actions of an individual can represent an entire race– particularly when the media seizes upon ethnicity as a noteworthy detail. Think about families where the failings of one child are lamented by parents as “bringing shame upon the whole family.” How much worse, then, is the shame felt when major news outlets started to fill their sparse articles with his ethnicity and immigration to the States, his awkwardness of speech as recounted by classmates, etc. I think that the lack of information early-on about the shooter resulted in a hyperfocus on the ethnic and immigrant angle. When that aspect makes up 20-30% of a written article, it stands out as a noteworthy detail to the average reader.

I’m not condoning the knee-jerk press-releases about “please don’t blame all of us”. But I think it’s understandable given the cultural context of where these public statements are coming from. Shame is a powerful force for people of asian descent. Note the difference between guilt and shame. Guilt is where you’ve done something wrong. Shame is fear-driven– fear of potential condemnation. Shame constrains one to avoid certain acts or apologizes for things one is not responsible for (false guilt). True guilt comes if you’ve actually committed a wrong.

On a second note, with regards to the policy debates that will come, the time for them is never immediately after a major crisis. Legislation in reaction to a crisis is usually ill-conceived, impractical, and placebo in its effect. I’m a big believer in legislation that builds into itself expiration, requiring independent evaluation and assessment of effectiveness after the emotions have subsided. The passage of a law is not easily reversed if it should prove to be ineffective, or worse, counterproductive. This is the time to grieve, to remember the victims, to care for those affected because many of the affected will themselves become indirect victims of this tragedy if they do not receive long-term support and care.

Legislation would never have prevented this tragedy from happening. When a man commits to plan public harm of many innocent people, he has already determined to violate any law that stands in his way. Any law can be circumvented, any regulation can be bypassed, all internal moral barriers have been abandoned. Legislation and law are no shield against evil intent. And what legal punishment can you exert over someone who’s intention it is to take their own life?

I was recently with a friend who has a restraining order against her ex-boyfriend. He intentionally showed up when she was with her daughter, putting all of her friends on edge. Does he care about the restraining order? No. Can the police do anything? Not really. The safety of herself and her daughter is in her own hands, not in the hands of the police.

In the case of this recent tragedy, could it have been prevented? I don’t know. But no amount of law can deter hatred, no legislation can extinguish rage.  Virginia law already bans firearms on school property (SEE : Code of Virginia §18.2-308.1).  The law already existed– but Cho had no regard for it.

In an ideal world of science fiction fantasy, someone could have read Cho’s mind and locked him away once murderous intent was detected.  Minority Report presented a stylized and simplified exploration of many of the moral and ethical problems about this approach.  In today’s world, maybe if Cho had spoken to someone openly about this, they could have reported it. There are a thousand what-if’s.

The stark reality is that when someone commits to do evil and begins to carry it out, prevention has already failed.  They are not deterred by threat of punishment.  Once that happens, the only option is direct intervention to interrupt the crime, and the people who will have to make those split second decisions will be citizens like you and I. Everyday citizens must take responsibility for their own AND others safety. Years ago, when someone tried to carjack a family member, there were no police nearby and had they arrived they would have been too late. The only thing standing in the way was myself and I chose to intervene. When evil comes for you or a loved one, there may not be time to pick up the phone and wait for someone else to rescue you. It’s harsh, but that’s reality– you will face it, and you may face it alone.

The people who were around Cho in his early years bear responsibility too. I’m not saying that childhood persecution is the only precursor to violence– I experienced plenty of that growing up in the deep South– but children are easily wounded. Rage that grows unchecked in a child manifests in horrific ways when they are old enough to inflict pain on others. As a child, I defended many of my peers from taunts and persecution. Even then I remember fuming, “Why doesn’t anyone else DO SOMETHING about this?” I rarely saw anyone else standing with me. Is that still the case in our society, or has it gotten worse? Wound a child repeatedly when he is young, and he will do the same to others when he is older.

Like every other tragedy of this nature this will spawn many debates in this country. And like every other time, there will be no consensus. I, for one, have decided to allow this to remind me that I should extend mercy instead of retribution, compassion instead of apathy, love instead of hate. God has had mercy on a corrupt soul like me, I should then do the same for others. And for me it also reminds me that standing up to injustice and evil when it comes knocking is my own responsibility– not someone else’s.