Oak Park, Ill. (AP) 鈥� Keyon Robinson was just a month away from graduating from high school when he took a loaded gun, placed it in his backpack and headed to campus.
He'd fought with a relative that morning. He was angry, and scared someone would come after him. The firearm, a with no serial number that he鈥檇 bought via social media, was his security blanket.
鈥淚 felt like I just needed it for safety because of the stuff I got myself into," said Robinson, now 19.
He insists he never intended to hurt anyone at his school in Oak Park, a suburb that borders Chicago鈥檚 West Side. 鈥淩ealistically, I didn鈥檛 need a gun at all.鈥�
And he never fired it. On May 3 鈥� three weeks before a gunman massacred 19 children and two teachers 鈥� police arrested Robinson near the school's main entrance as he returned from lunch. He told the officers he hadn鈥檛 even taken the gun out of his backpack until they asked him to do so.
Still, in an instant, that one decision changed the trajectory of his young life. It also shook the school community, prompting intense discussions about how its young people might be protected.
Most gun incidents in and around campuses are more like Oak Park than Uvalde. They're not planned , or active-shooter situations. More often, they're smaller altercations that escalate when someone has a gun at or near a school, a game or other event, according to the which tracks incidents from the last five decades.
These cases expose a hard truth: Keeping students from bringing guns to school is difficult.
staff and metal detectors miss things, experts say. Doors that are supposed to be locked get propped open. Items can be hidden even when schools require clear backpacks.
This fall, leaders at Oak Park and River Forest High, Robinson's school, began training more staff, adding security to the day shift, and moving more experienced team members to hot spots such as cafeterias.
The school, known as OPRF, is trying to walk a fine line 鈥� to keep students and staff safe without making them feel unwelcome or anxious. In 2020, the School Board .
Now some officials are rethinking the decision to cut ties with police. But they're also holding fast to a widely held belief among educators 鈥� that connecting with students is the best way to build trust and identify threats.
By his own account, and according to school records provided by his attorney, Robinson bonded with teachers. He owned his mistakes, staff said, but struggled with depression, drugs and impulsivity.
After his arrest, Robinson said he was expelled. The district offered him the chance to complete his studies, away from campus, where he can no longer set foot. A judge agreed that school in some form was 鈥渢he best thing for him," though she gave a stern reminder to avoid school grounds and weapons.
She allowed him to be released on bond after a few weeks in jail. As he awaits his fate in court, he鈥檚 been granted permission to work at a fast-food restaurant. Ultimately, he鈥檇 like to go to community college or trade school. He and his family hope felony charges will be deferred because this is a first-time offense.
Meanwhile, students have returned for at OPRF as officials and the community process what happened.
鈥淚t pains me to the core of my being that you have to do this on your jobs,鈥� School Board member Ralph Martire told staff after a security update at a recent meeting. 鈥淚t shouldn鈥檛 be that we should be this worried about violence at this level in educational setting.鈥�
The K-12 database shows that incidents accounted for 11 of 430 shootings in and around schools from the start of 2021 through August 2022. Fights that escalate when someone has a gun accounted for 123 of those shootings.
No one at the School Board meeting spoke Robinson鈥檚 name, though the incident was on many minds. He's aware that his actions have affected people鈥檚 sense of safety.
鈥淏ecause of the mistake that I made, and other mistakes, then I think that it is reasonable to have more tighter security 鈥� and have an officer in the school now,鈥� he said.
Superintendent Greg Johnson still sees a chance to rethink the role police could have at the school. Johnson, who is white, told the school board he understands the 鈥渧ery real challenge鈥� people of color face with law enforcement.
鈥淥ur belief as a school district, though, is that the way through that is education and relationships," he said. 鈥淲e need a partnership" with police.
But at least two board members balked at praise for efforts to 鈥渉arden鈥� security.
鈥淲e want to keep the buildings safe," member Gina Harris said. "But that language is challenging, as well as confronting for me as a Black woman and for families and students.鈥�
At a recent status hearing for his case, Robinson sat silently with his mom, Nicole Bryant, who works in child care and drives for Uber to make ends meet. His felony charges could lead to substantial time in prison.
Because Robinson had no criminal record, other than a traffic violation, attorney Thomas Benno is seeking the deferred sentence, which means probation and other requirements detailed by the court. It's a strict program with no room for more mistakes, Benno said. He believes that's better than incarceration and that his young client will share his cautionary tale.
鈥淗e can go and tell kids, 鈥楬ey, don鈥檛 carry the gun,鈥欌�� Benno said. 鈥淗e鈥檚 going to tell the story.鈥�
Some in the community quietly wonder if a lighter sentence would send the wrong message.
Last spring, Robinson's mom had been ready to celebrate her son, the third of four children. He had fought so hard to graduate, she told the school 鈥� he wanted to show everyone he could do it, despite his struggles. She, too, graduated from OPRF. Now she's just grateful her son was allowed to get his diploma.
Leon Watson, a family friend, frowned when asked about Robinson and the gun. 鈥淚 was disappointed and surprised and confused,鈥� he said. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 not him. It鈥檚 not ... but he鈥檚 kicking himself every day.鈥�
Robinson nodded. 鈥淵eah," he said. "Every day.鈥�
His hopes for a second chance are now in the hands of the court.
Martha Irvine, The Associated Press
