In Response to the Pilot Butte Incident with Child Bringing Gun to School
Did you also know, Oregon ranks near dead last for mental health care in the nation, and ranks dead last for mental health care for youth in our nation?
I remember being told this statistic somewhere around the last two years I was working in the high schools as a school counselor.
Our hands were tied. Unless an individual was ACTIVELY a danger to self or others —presently going through a school and shooting, (which studies show a psychotic break is generally only a time window of 10 minutes, give or take) nothing could be done. Preoccupation with self-harm or other harm, talk of harm. Nothing. We could strongly encourage interventions and support, provide referrals, but unfortunately those were often ignored or fell through. Leaving an individual to only escalate further in their mental health breakdown.
A great book that further describes this issue in lay person’s terms is this one, which depicts a father’s journey with trying to get interventions for his ailing son in our broken system: goodreads.com/book/show/402432.Crazy
It really paints the picture of what needs to change.
Terrible things like this most recent incident at Pilot Butte can largely be prevented. People can be helped. It is the humane thing to do. And more shootings will continue until we fix our broken system.
Look beyond just labeling it a gun control issue.
Look at the broken mental health care system.
We don’t ban cars because people are careless, distracted and/or drink and drive.
Fix the human, fix the problem.
If you, or someone you know struggles with a mental health care need, or if you have lost someone to an unmet mental health care need — know that we are in a broken system. There is not enough funding, resources, facilities or procedures to follow through on someone that needs preventative or responsive services.
What can YOU do to help? Like a First Aid Card, get your annual Mental Health First Aid Training done.
It is as Wonder Woman says,
“It’s not about deserve. It’s about LOVE. Only love will truly save the world.”
We must come together as a community and as a nation to care for each human being.
—Diana Prince
My Yard Sign is a Wildflower
In my little patch of earth
between the street and my lawn,
is a garden.
We plant wildflowers here.
Not just red, white, and blue,
but every color of the rainbow.
Wildflowers are my political affiliation.
My candidate, the Cosmo,
is not afraid to appear frivolous,
in a silky pink pantsuit
of petals.
Peonies are registered to bloom
every day of the week.
Here, we vote for Marigolds.
We vote for the rogue squash that survived our compost pile
which sprung up,
nourishing us
beyond the feast for the eyes,
and the bees,
and the butterflies.
Here, we vote for daisies as yellow as the sun,
violets black as night,
and cow cockles as white as the moon.
We vote for Monarchs
who live on humble diets of milkweed.
Our royals wear rich purple and blue,
but they are simply
cornflowers.
My candidate never makes demands,
never asks for money.
They only bob their head in the wind,
Saying,
“Yes,
Yes,
Yes.”
The promise of a wildflower
is that it starts as a small seed
in which contains a universe.
Packed inside its husky capsule,
its DNA includes the plans for its growth,
its economy,
its prosperity,
its happiness.
It believes in itself
to deliver life and hope.
It can’t help but keep its campaign promise
to unfold into something beautiful.
To change the world.
We trust the wisdom of the wildflower.
Wildflowers know
that everyone belongs in this little patch of dirt.
When the wind blows,
Dandelion comes to town.
Dandelion grows happily
alongside intentional plantings.
We know this
because there is peace here.
Their neon-yellow pom-poms
are the cheerleaders of the earth.
They only grow a few inches from the ground
but hold their heads high.
They have joy.
They belong in this garden.
Wildflowers are my yard signs.
Their beauty-
more fabulous than the global aristocracy,
says it all.
They never strive for it,
they simply just
are.
They just let that rain,
and the sunshine
fall on them,
softly.
Yes, they will live
and die
in a season,
but during their short lives,
they reflect cosmic glory,
on this little patch of earth between
here and eternity.
— Dominique Ovalle-Kongsli
Letter of the Week:
Dominique: During a week when there is so much uncertainty and anxiety in these United States, I hope your poem brings a perspective to people’s days, as it did mine. Come grab your Letter of the Week gift card at our office!
—Nicole Vulcan
This article appears in Source Weekly November 7, 2024.
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