Before I start, I would like to emphasize that this post is in no way intended to glorify, justify, or condone what happened at Columbine, because it was evil and nothing will ever change that. It is instead intended to provide my personal perspective, with which I’m not asking anybody here to agree or disagree; in fact, I’d like to hear some of your thoughts on this matter.
I’ve been interested in Columbine for quite some time, and as I’ve gone deeper into researching it and gathering more information on it, I’ve come to notice that I can identify with Eric and Dylan in a way. More so with Dylan, though, because there are certain experiences I’ve had that are very similar to his. My story, which I’m about to tell here, may sound hard to believe, but it’s completely true.
I grew up in a good neighborhood – a safe suburb where everyone knew each other and where, if anyone needed a helping hand, there was always someone willing to lend one – and my family was, and still is, on the well-off side financially. My mother is a teacher, and my father is an engineer (ironically, these are similar occupations to those held by Dylan’s parents). My religious upbringing was also a mixture of Judaism and Christianity, because my family has Jewish ancestry. I was close to my parents, and, as was the case with Dylan, I had a very loving relationship with my father during my growing-up years: we spent many a happy hour flying kites at the park, hiking, swimming, playing ball, building puzzles and model planes and drawing together. My father knew how much I loved computers, so every few weekends he would take me to pick out a new game and then help me to install it. He would also help me with homework every day after school, and I always looked forward to my time with him.
I also started school early, but in my case it was because, after repeated tests, on which I placed significantly above average in my age group, it was recommended that I skip first grade. I was in a gifted program similar to the CHIPS program that Dylan was in, but I was younger than him because my program allowed me to take advanced classes whilst I was still in kindergarten. Although I never experienced any bullying there as he did, I also didn’t enjoy it because I felt very lonely. This would become a recurring theme throughout my time in the school system: like Dylan, I was able to understand concepts quickly, and schoolwork came naturally to me. I loved to read, especially about things such as astronomy, music, biology, and world affairs, but when I tried to share something interesting that I’d read with my friends, they seemed to resent this, and they were very quick to let me know it. Early on, from around the age of ten, I became the target of their spite and malicious teasing. In retrospect, I can see that it was quite clearly brought on by their immaturity, but because I was young, I withdrew, going from a playful and confident child to one who was quiet and shy. From what I’ve read about Dylan, it appears that something similar happened to him at some stage during his childhood; he underwent a noticeable change during his transition from elementary school to middle school, and by the time he reached adolescence, he was no longer the carefree child he once was.
Adolescence was also an extremely difficult time for me. I was a straight A-student, but academics were the only thing that I enjoyed about high school. I had three close friends, but I never managed to fit into the school lifestyle. I was something of an outcast, not because of the way in which I dressed or behaved, but because I was interested in expanding my knowledge and excelling in my work and not in the least concerned with the culture of casual sex, drugs, and drink that was so prevalent at my school (it was a school filled with spoiled rich kids who were just there to cause trouble). There was also a large group of “jocks” at my school who, like the ones at Columbine, were rude and didn’t think twice about snubbing anybody they considered beneath them, or people who were physically small or vulnerable. I once watched as they verbally abused a young friend of mine for a silly and trivial reason; she was so distraught that she stayed away from school for three days. They turned their attention to me after a while, and I underwent some horrid experiences at their hands. When I read the account of Dylan’s mother finding him covered in ketchup and then crying on his bed holding his stuffed animals, I could fully understand why he would later say it was “the worst day of my life”. I was also humiliated often at school – I was pushed down stairs, grabbed, hit, punched, kicked, and thrown around on an almost daily basis. One day I was pushed into mud, and hit my head so hard that I felt sick for a few hours. That was only the beginning of it; there is much more that I don’t wish to take up space by describing.
In my final year of high school, my grades began to slip from good to average, and, like Dylan, I started to find that my enjoyment of learning was diminishing, slowly, until it was no longer there. I didn’t hate it – I just didn’t have any desire for the things that once brought me so much joy. During this time, I too became depressed because of the way people were treating me. I would lie awake every night and cry, feeling helpless and trapped. I began to self-harm as a way out of the pain – which, if I remember correctly, was something that Dylan also did. Over time, I became angrier and angrier, and I lashed out at the bullies. I had been pushed far over my limits and there was a rage that constantly bubbled just underneath the surface and, with any more provocation, I know that I would have lost control in some way. I can see, to an extent, how Dylan, and also Eric, became so filled with hatred and rage in the time leading up to NBK. I was not above bringing some sort of weapon to school – I think that the only thing that stopped me was my self-respect and my love for my family, whom I know would have been irreparably damaged if anything had happened to me. I don’t like to talk about this part of my life, because it was a period of darkness and deep sadness for me, and it took a lot of courage to share it here.
Now I am doing much better than I ever was then: I no longer have any need to self-harm, and I’ve found my own special place where I can fit in, where I am appreciated and accepted for the way I am without feeling as though I have to change for anyone. I wish that Eric and Dylan’s lives could have turned out differently, because at one point they were just ordinary young people like anyone else. What they did was almost unforgiveable – they took away the lives, futures, hopes and dreams of others in a brutal and evil way – but we have to remember that they were people too; they were loved by those who knew them best, and in a way, I also feel sorry for them. I’m sorry that they chose to do what they did, because in the end, they destroyed their own lives, and caused an irrevocable loss for their families.
That was my two cents’ worth, and I hope that I have not offended anybody with anything I’ve written here – I’m truly sorry if I have. As I said before, it’s just an opinion, and nothing more.
Subject: A few thoughts and observations 
Fri Dec 25, 2015 12:38 pm