A little boy lying on a hospital bed in Laval, Quebec, was quoted as asking, “Why did he do it?”
Why indeed.
How can we explain unspeakable evil? What do we tell our kids?
The boy was injured when a city bus smashed into a daycare centre, killing two and injuring six children the morning of Feb. 8. The driver of the bus faces a number of charges, including murder. News reports state that the driver was shouting and tearing off his clothing after the crash; bystanders, including parents, subdued the naked man and held him until police arrived.
Meanwhile, parents rushed to the scene, praying their little ones were safe and trying to rescue little kids – babies, really – trapped under the bus.
As news of the tragedy spread, parents and grandparents around the world thought of their own children, and maybe hugged them a bit tighter. People left flowers and stuffed toys in a makeshift memorial, and tied white flags at other daycares in a gesture of solidarity. Even as our thoughts and tears were with the parents and injured kids, we also thought about the driver. More than one of us joined that little boy in wondering why he did it, as if finding answers might protect our own children and grandchildren.
At this point, there is remarkably little information. Police have said the act was deliberate, since the driver had to make a sharp turn and go down a long driveway to get to the daycare. Witnesses have reported that the bus accelerated before the collision, and the driver appeared to be in some kind of altered mental state after the crash.
If this were the only time some tortured soul targeted little children, our sense of disquiet might not be so intense. However, consider Sandy Hook Elementary School and similar mass murders. The horrific crime in Laval is one more on a growing list.
We ask ourselves why a person would deliberately injure or kill small children, and yet we know at least part of the answer. They are small, fragile and unable to fight back, meaning that attacking them is a truly cowardly act – the act of a bully, a weakling.
There are large numbers of children in schools and daycares, and mass murder in the new millennium tends to be about numbers, almost as if these monsters were trying to rack up a higher score, disgusting though the thought is.
Children are the future of families, communities, cultures… in fact, they are the future of nations and the world. Attacking children is an act of such evil that it defies understanding.
With the sadness and horror felt by decent people, there is also anger. Our children and grandchildren should be safe at their schools, and they are not. Our instinct is to do whatever it takes to protect them, knowing full well there is danger in that, too. Enfolding kids in bubble wrap and instilling in them a fear of everything that moves is a recipe for disaster.
Nor is it feasible to be on constant watch for “red flags.” If we went on full alert every time someone acted a bit weird, we would be doing a disservice to the many delightful and non-murderous humans who sometimes act peculiar.
We cannot explain, and we cannot predict. And so we mourn. We might offer a prayer, or spend extra time with our children, as we grieve – not just for the senseless murder of two little children, but the profound loss of innocence for their classmates and every child capable of watching or listening to news of the tragedy.
Let this be a plea for reasonable safety precautions at schools and daycares, for a prompt and effective response to incidents of bullying, and for measured and sensible action when “red flags” are observed including websites espousing violence.
As for what to tell our kids – for every crazed murderer, there are a million kind and good people. No one is 100 per cent safe, but our kids are 100 per cent loved.
