A well-intentioned relative recently forwarded me an email commenting on a school shooting in the United States. The sadly misguided piece of religious propaganda reproduced in the email has been circulated on the Internet since at least the summer of 1999, at times attributed to - a probably fictitious - retired Navy chaplain, Clarence Schultz.

In a postscript, the original email author asked: "Are you thinking?" As the father of a two-year old, the email did have me thinking. Not just about the causes of the almost uniquely American concept of endemic school violence involving firearms, but about the make-up of the society in which it occurs. I soon discovered that the actual rate of school violence and school shootings has in fact remained static over the past years, while the amount of media hype surrounding the issue has sky-rocketed (see the Justice Policy Institute's report "School House Hype: School Shootings and the Real Risks Kids Face in America" http://www.cjcj.org/schoolhousehype). But inspired by the email I spent some time sifting through the barrage of profoundly uninformed and factually erroneous Christian fundamentalist "reasoning" presented as "the only solutions" to school violence - but in reality thinly veiled attempts at promoting an agenda that has little to do with the safety of our children.

In May of 2001 I wrote this massive rebuttal...

KUKES, Albania, April 1999 - More than 25,000 refugees stream across the Albanian border on a cold, rainy night in late April. Terrified families are crammed together on makeshift wagons pulled by decrepit old tractors, on the run from Kosovo. Old grandmothers moan in pain and hunger, while the little ones dangle their bare feet precariously off the back of the wagons; personal belongings and wet blankets surround them as they trundle past the overworked border guards. As the Serbs continue their merciless ethnic cleansing of Kosovo, the women and children are left to fend for themselves while their husbands, sons and brothers face an unknown fate on the other side of the border. Young men are suspiciously few and far between; many of those that do appear as drivers of this endless convoy of refugees have fresh bruises from what they claim are beatings by Serb soldiers along the way.

The refugees cross the border after days of perilous travels, and relief workers on the Albanian side at last can meet their most immediate needs for food, water, and shelter. But only hours after their arrival in safety the newcomers are faced with the challenge of finding a place to settle among the thousands of fellow Kosovars already packed together in the severely congested town of Kukes, some 20 miles inside Albania. The small town of 15,000 inhabitants is currently home to some 80,000 refugees. Many are staying in private homes, some in tent camps established by NATO, but most are camped out on the muddy fields that surround the city. Cold rain whips down from the mountains, the supply of food and other commodities is hampered by bad roads, and the relief efforts are overwhelmed by the sheer number of refugees that have arrived over a very short period. It is a sad, sad sight to behold.

In April of 1999 I went to the Albanian border with Serbia to cover the refugee crisis unfolding as the Serbian forces expelled the ethnic Albanian population from the southern province of Kosovo. On assignment for several relief agencies, I combined my primary effort at photojournalism with some dispatches that were used by my clients online and in print to document their work on behalf of the refugees. This piece was written for Relief International/Direct Relief, a small American NGO. The pictures I took in Albania that year will be posted online when I get around to it...

In the spring of 1996 I went to Kosovo, the conflict-ridden southernmost province of Serbia & Montenegro, home to a large majority of ethnic Albanians and one of the flashpoints for the conflct that consumed the Balkans in the 90s. I wanted to cover an angle of the Balkan conflict that hadn't already been done to death, and the editor of the Danish Amnesty International magazine agreed to take the story. The story was published in the September 1996 issue of "Amnesty Nyt", the newsletter of the Danish Amnesty. (In the course of writing this story, I would also meet my future wife, an American doctor working in Kosovo at the time)