Ever True to Brown

My heart was sunken all weekend with the news of the mass shooting at Brown University. 2 students were killed and 9 wounded.

I went to Brown, graduating in ’96. I went to class in the Barus and Holley Engineering building where the shooting occurred. I, like every student, walked the blocks on Hope Street and Waterman Street too many times to count. I also spent 5 summers on campus as an adult running Venture for America’s training camp, which was at Brown largely because of some relationships I had at the school. I was even on campus earlier this year to speak to students.

Were some of those same students among those who were killed or wounded this weekend? That question haunts me.

I texted friends who have children currently at the school. All were accounted for, but their families were of course shaken and horrified. I got a bunch of texts too.

Do you know someone who went to Brown or who goes there now? Chances are pretty high that you do. You know me. It’s a quirky school. Smart, creative, benign, somewhat impractical. Idealistic. It’s on the top of a hill, aptly named ‘College Hill’ which it shares with RISD, a design school. Providence is a great place to go to college; it’s a small city with a lovely waterfront.

Basically, it’s the last place you would imagine a mass shooting.

Thousands of students were sheltering in place on Saturday, fearing for their lives. Many have lost friends. Some families will never see their children again.

Brown was a great place for me to learn how to be a thinking, feeling adult. This generation will now have a totally different association with the school, seared by tragedy and terror. It feels like the loss of innocence.

My heart aches for the students and their families, some of whom will have their frantic calls go unanswered in the most heartbreaking way possible.

The campus of my youth was shot up. Young people I may have high-fived earlier this year might be gone. No one will ever be the same.

Will one or both of my kids walk those same streets and hallways someday?

I grieve for the victims and their families. I mourn for Brown. And I mourn for our country. We feel lost; I hope we find a way forward that protects our children in the way they deserve.