No Right to Remain Silent: What We've Learned from the Tragedy at Virginia Tech

It is seldom that a writer of serious fiction transfers those skills to a serious incident in real life. "In Cold Blood" might be an example. I am a graduate of Virginia Tech, and have followed the aftermath of the Virginia Tech massacre in detail. Lucinda Roy's, "No Right to Remain Silent" explores the academic, bureaucratic, causal and deterministic matters surrounding the "Cho" massacre at Virginia Tech in 2007. It is written from her own personal contacts with Cho and her experiences with the principal player and the society in which he lived and died. Given the recent (July 2009) amazing discovery of Cho's records from his triage interviews with the University's Counseling Center, her book reveals the anatomy of a moment surrounded by "nacht und nebel". Her book blows away the dark and mist. It is written with the courage and insight that the French writer, Zola, had in his famous series, "J'accuse". "Emile Zola, a French writer, risked his career in 1898, when his "J'accuse" was published on the front page of the Paris daily, L'Aurore. The newspaper was run by Georges Clemenceau, who decided that the controversial story would be in the form of an open letter to the President (Clemenceau became Prime Minister in 1917). "Zola's "J'accuse" accused the highest bureaucratic levels of obstruction of justice regarding the controversial handling of a situation. As Zola was a leading French thinker, his letter formed a major turning-point in the affair. "Zola was brought to trial for criminal libel in 1898, and was convicted, sentenced, and removed from the Legion of Honor. Zola fled to England. He was allowed to return in time to see the government's fall when public sentiment forced a change in the bureaucratic cover-up. (adapted from Wikipedia) Lucinda Roy provides a factual narrative, unique because of her involvement, of events before and after the shootings. She also asks in many ways the difficult, perhaps unanswerable question of how future campus violence can be avoided. What affected me most in this powerful work was her grief, expressed throughout the book. Just read the last paragraph of Chapter 9.

This beautifully written book will make you wonder what might have happened if any of a number of people had made a BETTER decision. Powerful and thought driven. I have recommended this book to many friends, something I don't do often.

Recently I have read some of the books on Columbine given that it has been the 10th anniversary of that event. I'm not usually into "true crime" type books, preferring tame stuff like Harry Potter or uplifting biographies. This book gives an excellent, methodical and very readable account of the events surrounding the VT massacre along with a compelling and analytical look at the administrations response, or lack thereof. The author's descriptions of her interactions with Cho in her tutorial sessions were enlightening, her patience with him remarkable. She obviously gave him more "therapy" or at least empathy and understanding than the people at the counseling center he was referred to. One has to feel sorry for Cho after reading this and I'm glad at least someone tried to help him. As opposed to the somewhat disorganized style of the authors of the recent Columbine recountings (Cullen and Kass), this is well written and didn't give me a headache when I read it. Disturbing book but important for us to learn from.

"No Right to Remain Silent" is a poignant, sincere depiction of Lucinda Roy's experiences with Seung-Hui Cho -- with a plea to stop the insanity and provide effective assistance for emotionally or mentally unstable students within our scholastic/collegiate systems. Lucinda's writing style is a very easy read -- with honesty, quick wit, and magical play on words, as well as allegories. Considering the solemn nature of No Right to Remain Silent -- I (with strained eyes from working too many long hours) enjoyed reading Professor Roy's account through her eyes of what happened preceding, during and after the massacre at Virginia Tech on April 16, 2007. This book is definitely a must read.

Speaking the truth is a first step toward healing, toward wholeness. Chilling, thought-provoking, and touching, Lucinda Roy's No Right to Remain Silent: The Tragedy at Virginia Tech offers truth at every turn. I was astonished and deeply moved by this former English Department Chair and Distinguished Professor's unflinching account of the frustrations of working on-on-one with student Seung-Hui Cho in a poetry tutorial after he had been formally removed from a class for writing and sharing threatening work about his classmates and teacher. Despite her repeated efforts to get Cho to seek professional help, she describes how ill-equipped her institution was to intervene and provide assistance to this seriously troubled young man before his killing rampage that ended in the deaths of thirty-two students and faculty members and the taking of his own life. This difficult story of the questions that have plagued Roy since that tragic day is filled with anguish, and with grace. Roy speaks openly, with the authority of 30-plus years of teaching and administrative experience which have given her intimate knowledge of students, faculty, and administrators and of the personal and political challenges inherent in classrooms and university systems today. This book gives a detailed account of when, how, and why she and her English Department colleagues at Virginia Tech became concerned about Cho's disturbed and disturbing behavior, of the barriers and obstacles encountered in their repeated efforts to get him help, of how unresponsive and ineffective an overburdened, underfunded system was in addressing Cho's serious psychological problems and threatening behaviors. Following the tragedy, according to the author, the university shifted into defensive mode. Those in administrative positions at VT ignored critical questions about the way the situation had been handled before, during, and after the shooting, and used silence as a substitute for leadership. In this book, Roy goes the distance, unafraid to reveal truths--sometimes troubling, often paradoxical--about herself and others working in an imperfect system. In the face of unspeakable tragedy, the author invites us to explore what might be learned from the horrifying occurrence at Virginia Tech. About guns. Violence. Media. Race and racism. Mental illness. Individual freedom. Community protection. Right to privacy. Teachers and students. Administrators and faculty. Parents and children. Writers and writing. Silence and speaking. A pattern emerges in Roy's description of the current fabric of campus culture, where, as teachers know, chaos lurks behind the facade of order, the illusion of safety. Her story illustrates the high cost of speaking up about concerns regarding a student, and the (often) higher cost of not. She discusses potential threats to students and faculty on campuses, kinds of interventions necessary and legal and institutional barriers to getting them, difficulties balancing a student'