"I got shot at over break."

         “I got shot at over break,” he casually mentioned to me as he stood at his locker.

         “I saved him,” his girlfriend piped in. “Miss, have him tell you about it!”

         With a catch in my voice I replied, “I am so thankful the bullet didn’t make contact.”

         “Can I come talk to you fourth block?” he asked as he headed to his class.

         “Of course!” There was no way I was going to say no to him. My planning could wait.

         While I read with a girl from the behavior classroom, I thought of him and the casual way he told me about it. As I sat in an IEP meeting, the sound of gunshots echoed in my head. Throughout my third block class, I anticipated our conversation.

         Before the bell even rang, he was in my room. He patiently waited through the flurry of activity that ensued as students cleaned up the classroom and the transition to their next class took place. And, then, it was time for him to tell his story.

         A week before, a boy was saying things about him. When he could take it no more, he started saying things back. Somewhere in the conversation, the boy yelled something like, “I am going to find you with my gun.” Life went on for a week.

         “I was playing basketball with a couple of friends when he came out and started mugging at me.”

         “Like saying talking trash about you?” I asked. I am still working on learning all the different local dialects.

         “Nah, looking mean at me. He walked right up until we were nose to nose. I don’t like nobody getting up in my nose like that so I pushed him. He came back at me and we fought. I blackened two of his eyes. He’s always startin’ stuff with people so they were glad. They be wantin’ to jump him for awhile. Then he started shooting at me.”

         “Were you scared? I would be scared?” I was flabbergasted at how calmly he was telling the story.

         “Nah, it was only a .22, a baby gun.”

         To me, a gun is a gun is a gun. As far as I know, they can all inflict some type of damage as can be attested by my son’s friend who had a bb pellet embedded in his stomach. His party favor for Sean’s 13^th birthday. I do know a .22 is bigger than a bb gun and could kill him.

         “It could still kill you. Remember back to when your friend was shot earlier this year? I remember how it affected you and many other people I care about. I didn’t know him. I don’t even want to imagine the grieving that would take place if something were to happen to you.”

         He grew quiet as tears filled his eyes.

         “I only told my mother about the fight. She would overreact if she knew more. She won’t let me go over there any more. I go to my grandmother’s after school now.”

         “Good for your mother! What’s your plan to stay safe?”

         “I ain’t worried about it none. He could’a shot me but he didn’t have the heart.”

         “Sounds to me like he did have a heart and thought twice about it.” I find doesn’t have the heart such a strange saying. Usually it is used when the heart is doing the thinking.

         “It wasn’t about me. He knew that if he shot me, they would go after him and his family and kill them. He didn’t want that.”

         “I care about you deeply. I am so glad you did not get shot!”

         Our conversation continued with ways to be his own person and to avoid the violence that sometimes surrounds him before he headed back to class.

         Throughout the remainder of my day, my mind went into overdrive. So many of our students are in difficult situations in which they are in fear that if they say anything, it will get worse. Therefore, they remain quiet, tolerating and dealing with whatever is thrown their way. I wanted to do something. Anything. But didn’t know the first way about going about making it better. Therefore, I reached out to the person I go to when I need to process. The guidance counselor.

         After telling her about my conversation with the young man, she told me about a conversation she had with the School Resource Officer, a policeman stationed in our school. She asked him what we could do for these kids when they felt they were in danger. His response?

         “Nothing. We used to be able to pick up our surveillance and do what we could. But with the budgets the way they are and positions being cut, we can’t promise anything. We do what we can.”

         “So what do we do?” There was no way I was going to sit idly and watch people I care about get hurt.

         She looked at me, eyes full of compassion. “It’s going to take more than the school. We need to get parents and law enforcement involved. School will be out for summer soon. They will be on their own while parents work. I have learned that once a gang targets a child, they are given an ultimatum. Either _____ or ______. The only way they can avoid it is to relocate.”

         We continued talking for the next hour about how to go about coming up with strategies from having a cell phone specifically for students to text anonymous information or calls for help to guest speakers. Our work has just begun…