When David Freund, a professor in Princeton's history department, was watching TV coverage of last week's shooting at Santana High School in Santee, Calif., he said he was just as concerned with the questions the reporters asked as he was with the answers their teary-eyed student interviewees gave.
"They asked a lot of questions like 'How does this make you feel?' [and] 'What does this make you think?' " he said.
The national media covers shootings at suburban schools as human interest stories, said Freund. "What's the most common response [after a school shooting]?" he asked, suggesting, " 'I can't believe it happened here.' "
It is all about perception. There is a long history of violence in schools, Freund said. There have always been fights between students, he explained.
Mass shootings at suburban schools are nothing new. In 1974, a small-town New York honor student opened fire in his high school, killing three and wounding nine. In 1979, a 16-year-old female student shot and killed two children and injured nine at a San Diego elementary school. In 1989, a 26-year-old man opened fire in Stockton, Calif., killing five children and wounding 29.
What has changed is how Americans distinguish between different types of violence. "It's about how we frame the question," said Christopher Weiss, a professor in the sociology department.
By decrying the latest suburban shooting as a mindless tragedy, the thing that should never happen — but did — in their own backyards, Americans make assumptions about what kind of violence belongs where and ignore key factors that contribute to violence in schools, said Freund.
One of these key issues is access to firearms, said Freund. The presence of guns makes any type of violence in schools more dangerous, he said, adding that no one is asking where students get their guns, or how to control them.
Political interest in controlling guns in schools seems to be waning, Weiss said.
While after the 1999 shooting at Columbine High School legislators introduced additional gun control measures, after this most recent shooting in Santee, political action has been largely absent, he said.
Guns increase the damage that an individual student can cause, Freund added. And while overall levels of crime in schools have decreased for the past eight years, the percentage of high school students who were threatened or injured on school property with a weapon remained constant between 1993 and 1997, according to a 2000 study by the Department of Education and the Department of Justice.
Media coverage tends to focus on shootings at predominately-white suburban schools as aberrant acts of violence, while often ignoring or minimizing violence in urban schools attended mostly by minority students, Freund said.

"It's a certain kind of visible violence," said Freund. "You don't have these kinds of questions when people in minority neighborhoods are the victims of violence."
People believe that they are isolated from danger in suburbia, said Weiss. The idea that violence can reach them might shock them, he added.
While in high school, Danny Yang '03 moved from a predominately black and Hispanic school near Los Angeles to a mostly white suburban school outside of San Diego. In spite of the concern about suburban school violence, he felt safer in the suburbs. "I felt more at ease," he said. "You didn't have to worry about some gang having a problem with you."
The reality is that the percentage of students being victimized at schools has declined over the last few years, according to the Department of Education and Department of Justice study. Students themselves may be less concerned than their parents or the media.
"Violence is everywhere," Yang said. "The chance that you'll get shot at at a particular time isn't that great."
Violence in suburban schools is a matter of chance, some University students say, of being in the wrong place at the wrong time or of an individual snapping.
Jean Lacombe '03 attended a small religious high school near San Diego, about forty minutes from Santee.
He said that while he has two younger siblings at area schools, his parents are not particularly concerned that their children could be victims of a school shooting. "We haven't discussed it," he said. "By and large, the schools are pretty safe . . . these things are flukes."
Both the University and area high schools have been working with Borough Police to develop plans to prevent a targeted shooting, said Borough Police Capt. Charles Davall.
Firearms, with the exception of those carried by law enforcement officers, are not permitted on school campuses by state law. If a person is observed carrying a gun on the Princeton campus, Borough Police are responsible for safely addressing the threat. However, in his 22-year career, Davall said there has only been one firearms-related incident at the University. The case involved a water gun being mistaken for a real weapon.
University staff have discussed the issue of school violence informally, said Public Safety Crime Prevention Specialist Barry Weiser. He said that Public Safety has discussed methods of addressing targeted shootings.
Human Resources also offers a lecture program aimed at reducing violent confrontations in the workplace, Weiser said.
Princeton has a well-established safety net in place, said University spokeswoman Marilyn Marks. "The university . . . benefits from the residential college system because faculty members and resident advisers in the colleges get to know students very well and are also trained to recognize and respond to problems," she said in an e-mail.
Counseling services are also offered for students experiencing problems, Marks added.
"Do we believe it could happen at Princeton?" Weiser asked. He said he cannot imagine a shooting like last week's in Santee occurring on campus, but he added that the University should be prepared. "It could happen anywhere."