Remembering Columbine- Taken from my book When we Were Young

The governor wrote a letter to all the schools warning them about taking troubled students seriously. Would I be considered a troubled student? I had been shaving my head for years. I liked wearing black, and I was considered a “quiet student.” Would that be enough to make me fit someone’s stereotype? Paranoia seemed all around me. There had been racial slurs spray painted on a brick wall at the school a few days earlier. Rumor had it that one of the black students was so upset when he saw the “writing on the wall,” that he punched the first white kid he saw. Like Columbine, my school was made up of many subcultures, each with its own identity. I didn’t think my school would be shot up, but I was scared of being suspended for no reason. My government teacher said it was a form of McCarthyism. These events were not what I was expecting during my last year of high school.
Part of me enjoyed the tension. We talked about the event in class. The kids who otherwise stayed quiet gave their insights without fear of being ridiculed by the so-called perfect kids, who acted like victims. Several of us felt empathy towards the situation, even though we thought using a gun was stupid. For many, high school was a place where you were put in your place, and most people I knew didn’t like their place or thought there had to be something better.
The kids who wore black trench coats were asked to take them off. They also bummed cigarettes from me. We got into debates about which was cooler, guns or swords. They chose swords.