[OPINION] If our answer starts at the school gate, we are too late

There will be pressure after Tacloban and Zamboanga to find the answer: bullying, mental illness, violent games, social media, bad parenting, weak school security, guns. Real violence is rarely that tidy. Two fatal school shootings in the Philippines within two months highlight the urgent need for intervention and prevention strategies, particularly regarding firearm access and child protection policies. Understanding the circumstances surrounding the shooters is important for prevention, but it should not overshadow the immediate need to secure firearms and enforce existing child protection measures. The digital environment poses risks to children, and parents should engage with their children's online activities to ensure safety and open communication about potential dangers. This is AI-generated. Read the article for full context. Report any errors. Trigger warning: This article contains references to violence and suicide. Two fatal school shootings in less than two months should stop us cold. In June, three students were killed at San Jose National High School in Tacloban City. On August 18, it happened again in Zamboanga City. A student was killed, two others were wounded, and the child who carried out the shooting later died by suicide. The attack was livestreamed. The cases are different, and we should resist forcing them into one explanation. We do not yet know why either happened. But that may be the wrong threshold for action. We do not need one perfect explanation before acting on the intervention points already in front of us. I write this as a Zamboangueña, a pediatrician, a clinical forensic practitioner, and a child protection specialist. But, most personally, I am an aunt and godmother to a nine-month-old boy who is, in my entirely unbiased opinion, the most adorable child on the planet. In a few years, we will send him through a school gate. Discussion after the Zamboanga shooting has centered on the child who carried it out. Was he bullied? Was he troubled? Was he himself a victim? Those questions are uncomfortable when another child is dead. Nothing we learn about the shooter diminishes the life lost or the harm borne by witnesses. But understanding how a child reached lethal violence is not the same as excusing it. A child can cause grave harm and still have a history that matters to prevention. In medicine, forensics, and child protection, details matter. Sequence matters. Investigation asks what happened and how. Prevention asks a different question: Where, if anywhere, could that sequence have been interrupted? If our conversation ends with deciding whether a child was a “victim” or a “monster,” it may tell us whom to condemn. It tells us very little about where to intervene. A clear intervention point is firearm access. In both shootings, children obtained firearms they should never have been able to access, including service or government-issued weapons linked to adults. Whatever else we learn about motive, one fact requires no psychological reconstruction: a child cannot fire a gun he cannot access. How are firearms stored in homes where children live? What safeguards apply when service weapons are brought home, and are they enforced? Youth firearm injury research reinforces a principle: secure storage matters. School safety requires the same shift in thinking. After a shooting, the instinct is to harden the campus: more guards, tighter entry, active-shooter drills. But preparedness is not prevention. If our answer starts at the school gate, we are already too late. The Philippines is not starting from zero. We already have an Anti-Bullying Act, a Department of Education Child Protection Policy, school Child Protection Committees, and rules requiring prevention and early intervention. The question is whether those protections are implemented and enforced when needed. Implementation is where policy becomes protection. This is not an argument for treating every bullied, angry, withdrawn, or mentally unwell adolescent as a potential shooter; most will never become violent. It is an argument for taking distress seriously without criminalizing it, and ensuring trusted adults know what to do with serious concerns. The digital environment deserves the same discipline. I cannot responsibly say that a particular game, platform, or online community caused either shooting. A 2019 randomized trial published in JAMA Network Open found that children exposed to gun violence in a video game subsequently handled real, disabled handguns more dangerously. That is evidence about short-term behavior around firearms in an experimental setting, not evidence that violent video games cause school shootings or that they caused either incident. But caution about causation should not become an excuse to dismiss the digital environment altogether. The internet is not a neutral space in a child’s life. It is where children learn, play, form friendships, and find community. It can educate and connect them, but it can also expose them to exploitation, harassment, graphic violence, self-harm material, and other harmful content. Online experiences are real experiences. Harms do not become less consequential because they happened through a screen. In Zamboanga, the violence itself was livestreamed. That does not tell us why it happened. It does mean a digital platform became part of how the violence unfolded and was broadcast. Technology companies and regulators should be asking how quickly real-world violence can be detected and interrupted, and what safeguards should exist when children use platforms that can broadcast it in real time. For parents and caregivers, the question is closer to home: Do you know what your child is doing online? Would they tell you if something frightened or pressured them? If the answer is no, or even I’m not sure, start there. Ask. Learn the spaces where they spend their time. When something goes wrong, coming to you should feel safer than hiding it. There will be pressure after Tacloban and Zamboanga to find the answer: bullying, mental illness, violent games, social media, bad parenting, weak school security, guns. Choose one culprit, prescribe one solution, move on. Real violence is rarely that tidy. Prevention is complicated, but we are not powerless. Secure firearms. Enforce the child-protection policies we already have. Make sure trusted adults know what to do with serious concerns. Demand safeguards from the platforms children use every day. Two Philippine cities have now buried children after school shootings in less than two months. We should not need a third before deciding that this is a national child-safety problem. My nephew is nine months old. By the time he enters school, I do not want our great achievement to be that Filipino children have become exceptionally good at barricading classroom doors and hiding under desks. I want us to have become better at seeing danger earlier, securing weapons, listening when children say something is wrong, and making our systems actually work. The question is not how prepared we are for the next gunshot. It is what we do while there is still time to prevent it. – Rappler.com The Department of Health has national crisis hotlines to assist people with mental health concerns: 1553 or 0919-057-1553. You can also access free online psychosocial support via www.ncmhusaptayo.com. Princess Jeanne Gairanod is a Zamboangueña pediatrician, clinical forensic practitioner, and child protection specialist. She works with the Philippine General Hospital Child Protection Unit and the Child Protection Network, including on issues related to online child safety. She was one of Rappler’s 2024 One Young World scholars. The article contains her personal views.