Denver is tired. You can feel it in the air when you walk past the State Capitol or drive down Colfax Avenue toward East High School. For decades, this city has been the unwilling face of American school violence. People outside of Colorado often think of Columbine first, but for the families living here right now, the Denver high school school shooting conversation is centered on much more recent, raw wounds. Specifically, the events at East High and the 2019 shooting at STEM School Highlands Ranch have shifted the entire dialogue from "how did this happen" to "why does this keep happening here?"
It’s heavy.
If you’re looking for a sanitized version of history, this isn’t it. We need to talk about what actually went down, the security failures that fueled public outrage, and why the students in Denver are currently some of the most politically active in the country. They aren't just waiting for help anymore.
The East High Crisis: A Breaking Point for Denver
Most people remember March 2023. It was a mess. Austin Lyle, a 17-year-old student at East High School, shot two administrators during a required daily search for weapons. This wasn't a random "intruder" scenario. It was an internal failure. Lyle was under a "safety plan" because of prior behavioral issues, meaning he had to be patted down every single day before entering the classroom.
Think about that for a second.
Two deans, Eric Sinclair and Jaree Stratton, were doing the job of security officers when the gun went off. It happened in an office, away from the hallways, but the ripples were felt instantly across the city. Sinclair ended up in critical condition. The shooter fled and was later found dead by suicide in Park County.
The immediate aftermath was pure chaos. Parents were screaming at school board meetings. Students walked out—thousands of them—and marched to the Colorado State Capitol. They weren't just sad; they were furious. The big question was: Why was a student with a known history of weapons violations allowed back into a traditional school setting without professional law enforcement on-site to handle the searches?
The SRO Debate: Did Removing Police Make Schools Less Safe?
You can't talk about a Denver high school school shooting without mentioning the SRO (School Resource Officer) controversy. In 2020, following the George Floyd protests, the Denver School Board voted unanimously to remove police from schools. The logic was that the presence of armed officers contributed to the "school-to-prison pipeline," disproportionately affecting students of color.
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It was a social justice victory for many. But then the shootings happened.
After the East High incident, the pressure became unbearable. Denver Public Schools (DPS) Superintendent Alex Marrero basically defied the board's standing policy by bringing police back into high schools. He argued that student safety had to come before political ideology. It was a polarizing move. Some parents felt a massive sense of relief, while others felt the city was backtracking on its promises to marginalized communities.
The data is still messy. Does having a cop in the hallway stop a kid from bringing a gun in his backpack? Maybe. Does it prevent the root cause of the violence? Probably not. But in the eyes of a terrified parent at 14th and Detroit Street, a badge represents a layer of protection that was missing during the Lyle shooting.
The STEM School Shooting and the Ghost of Columbine
While East High is the most recent focal point, the 2019 STEM School Highlands Ranch shooting remains a massive part of the collective trauma. This one was different. It involved two students who entered the school with handguns hidden in guitar cases. Kendrick Castillo, an 18-year-old who was just days away from graduation, lunged at one of the shooters. He saved his classmates. He also lost his life.
Kendrick’s dad, John Castillo, has since become one of the most vocal advocates for school security in the state. He doesn't talk in platitudes. He talks about hardened perimeters and armed response times.
What’s wild is how these events have created a "new normal" for Colorado kids. They know the drills. They know where the "safe corners" are in every classroom. In Denver, a school shooting isn't a "once in a lifetime" tragedy you read about in a textbook; it’s something you prepare for like a snowstorm.
Mental Health vs. Metal Detectors
There’s this constant tug-of-war in Denver’s education policy. On one side, you have the "harden the schools" crowd. They want metal detectors at every door, clear backpacks, and more armed guards. On the other side, you have the "mental health" advocates who point out that most of these shooters were crying out for help long before they pulled a trigger.
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Let’s look at the numbers. Colorado consistently ranks in the bottom half of the U.S. for mental health access. Even when students are flagged as "high risk," the follow-up is often lackluster. In the East High case, the "safety plan" was basically a compromise because there weren't enough spots in alternative education programs to house students with disciplinary issues.
Basically, the system tried to bridge the gap with a pat-down, and it failed.
What People Get Wrong About the "Colorado Effect"
There’s a theory called the "copycat effect" or the "Columbine effect." Researchers like Dr. Jillian Peterson from The Violence Project have studied how shooters often look at previous Colorado incidents as a blueprint. This puts a unique burden on Denver schools. They aren't just fighting local crime; they are fighting a dark legacy that attracts "tributes" from across the country.
Remember Sol Pais? In 2019, an 18-year-old girl from Florida became obsessed with Columbine and flew to Denver, bought a shotgun, and disappeared into the mountains. The entire Denver metro area shut down. Half a million students stayed home. She never attacked a school—she was found dead by suicide—but the sheer terror she caused proved how on-edge the city remains.
The Student-Led Revolution
If there’s any hope in this, it’s the kids. The "Students Demand Action" and "March for Our Lives" chapters in Denver are incredibly sophisticated. They aren't just holding signs; they are lobbying for specific bills.
In the wake of recent violence, they helped push through:
- "Red Flag" law expansions.
- A mandatory three-day waiting period for firearm purchases.
- A ban on "ghost guns" (unserialized firearms).
- Raising the age to buy any firearm to 21.
They are doing the work that the adults in the room haven't been able to finish for thirty years. It’s exhausting for them. I’ve talked to students who say they feel like they’ve lost their childhood because they have to spend their weekends at the statehouse instead of at a football game.
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Actionable Next Steps for Parents and Residents
The reality is that "thoughts and prayers" don't do anything for a student walking into East High tomorrow morning. If you’re a parent or a concerned citizen in the Denver area, there are actual, tangible things you should be looking at right now.
1. Demand Transparency on Safety Plans
If a school is using "safety plans" for students with a history of violence, you have a right to know how those plans are being enforced. Are they being handled by trained professionals or overworked teachers? Push your school board for clear protocols.
2. Support the "Safe2Tell" Program
Colorado’s Safe2Tell system is actually one of the best in the country. It allows students to anonymously report threats. It has prevented dozens of potential attacks that never made the news. Encourage the kids in your life to use it without fear of "snitching."
3. Focus on Secure Storage
A huge percentage of school shooters get their weapons from home. If you own a gun, it needs to be in a biometric safe, period. Denver has local programs that give out free trigger locks; take advantage of them.
4. Engagement Over Apathy
Show up to the DPS board meetings. The decisions about SROs and mental health funding happen in those boring, three-hour-long Tuesday night sessions. That’s where the policy that affects the next Denver high school school shooting risk is actually written.
The story of Denver's schools isn't just one of tragedy. It's a story of a community trying to figure out how to live in the shadow of a mountain that keeps erupting. We aren't there yet, but the conversation has moved past the "shock" phase. Now, it's about the grit required to change the system from the inside out.
Denver is tired, yeah. But it's also more awake than it's ever been.