When something terrible happens in a community, healing is not only a private matter. A whole town can carry the same grief at the same time, and that shared weight has its own shape. It shows up in classrooms, in grocery store lines, at the dinner table, and in the quiet between neighbors who do not quite know what to say.
We say this as a counseling practice in Sisters, and as neighbors. After the October 15 shooting at Silver Rail Elementary in Bend, the question many of us keep asking is not what happened. It is what helps. This post is about that.
A community has a nervous system too
Trauma is not only a memory. It lives in the body, in the nervous system, in the sense of whether the world is safe enough to relax in. When a community is hurt together, many nervous systems are on alert at once, and they tend to catch each other's alarm. A tense parent at drop-off settles a child's body or unsettles it. A calm teacher in the hallway does the same for a room.
This is why healing a shared wound works best when it is also shared. The ideas from Polyvagal Theory and Interpersonal Neurobiology that guide our work point the same way: people regulate each other. Safety is not only something we think. It is something we feel in the presence of other people who are steady.
Safety first, then connection, then meaning
We find it helpful to move through three stages, and not to skip ahead.
1. Safety. Before anyone can talk about meaning, bodies need to settle. That means sleep, food, routines, and familiar places. It means slow breathing, time outdoors, a walk, a warm drink, a hand on a shoulder. It means knowing where to turn if things feel like too much. Small, steady routines are not a distraction from healing. They are the foundation of it.
2. Connection. Isolation makes grief heavier. Being with others who understand, without having to explain, is one of the most healing experiences there is. This can be a vigil, a meal, a support group, a faith community, or a neighbor on the porch. You do not have to say anything profound. Being there is enough.
3. Meaning. In time, many people want to turn grief toward something: caring for each other, working so that other families are safer, remembering well. This stage cannot be rushed, and it should never be pushed on someone who is not ready. When it comes on its own, it often brings a sense of purpose that makes people feel less powerless.
What helps, and what to be gentle with
Let people grieve in their own way and time. Some will cry, some will go quiet, some will get busy, some will feel angry or numb. All of these are ways of coping. In IFS terms, they are protective parts doing their job. We do not need to argue with them. We can thank them and stay curious about what they are guarding.
Offer ongoing connection, not one big conversation. Research on single, early debriefing sessions has not shown that they prevent lasting trauma, and for some people they can feel like too much too soon. Regular, low-pressure check-ins tend to serve people better than a single intense talk.
Be honest with children, and keep it simple. Children usually need short, true answers at their own level, the same routines they had before, and plenty of closeness. Let their questions set the pace. It is fine to say "I don't know" and fine for them to see that you are sad. What steadies a child most is a calm, available adult.
Care for the helpers. Teachers, counselors, first responders, and parents are carrying their own feelings while holding everyone else's. Rest, support, and permission to step back are part of community healing, not a luxury.
Go slowly with the story. Retelling the details over and over, or taking in constant coverage, can keep a body in alarm. We encourage taking breaks from the news and being gentle with how much of the story you take in.
When to reach for more support
Many reactions after a shared tragedy are normal and ease with time and support. It is worth reaching out when sleep or appetite stay disrupted for weeks, when someone cannot return to daily life, when fear or anger keep growing, when a child regresses or withdraws for a long time, or when a person starts to feel hopeless. A therapist can help. So can your doctor, your school counselor, or a trusted friend.
If you or someone you know is in crisis, call or text 988 at any hour. If there is immediate danger, call 911. For a concern about a student, SafeOregon takes tips at any hour.
One way to turn grief toward each other
After the shooting, I joined with Kolleen Miller, an education director, to build a community website, Safe Schools Central Oregon. It is nonpartisan, and it serves Bend, Redmond, Sisters, La Pine, Prineville, Madras and Sunriver. It puts crisis help on every page first, then offers a way to join the work.
It is organized around five ideas: Know the Signs, Connect and Heal, Lock It Up, Care Network, and Advocate. There are pages for parents and educators, a page for clinicians who want to join a Care Network or offer consult hours to school counselors, and a first community gathering. It does not use names, photos, or stories of those we lost.
We built it because healing a community takes all of us, and because most people want to do something and do not know where to start.
If you are a clinician
If you are a therapist in Central Oregon and want to help, the site has a page for clinicians. Offering a few consult hours to a school counselor, or helping a teacher and parents agree on a next step, can make a real difference.
If you would like to talk
Aspen Counseling offers a free phone consultation. You do not need to be in crisis to call, and you do not need to have the words. Whether you want support for yourself, your child, or your family, we can help you find a place to start.
Header photo: Three Sisters and Broken Top, by Willie Scott, U.S. Geological Survey, Cascades Volcano Observatory. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
- Collective trauma
- Grief
- Community healing
- Polyvagal
- IFS
- Safe Schools Central Oregon
