Preventing Dangerous Thoughts From Becoming Violent Acts
- Harrison Favero
- 1 day ago
- 5 min read
Epic's Behavioral Threat Assessment team works to identify and respond to potential dangers before they become actual violence
The gun looked real.
It appeared for only a moment — a student lifting it into frame during a routine Zoom class, passing it to another teen just off‑camera. Four or five students saw it. Not one said a word.
Epic’s threat assessment team didn’t hear about the incident until hours later, when a parent finally called the police. By the time the report reached the school, officers were already on the way to the student’s home.
"It turned out to be an Airsoft gun,” said Lindsay Moore, Epic’s threat assessment specialist. "But from the camera angle, it looked real. And the most disheartening part was that none of the students felt they could tell anyone."
For Moore and her colleague, Director of Security Dexter Nelson, that silence is as dangerous as any weapon. Their job is to break it — and to prevent violence long before someone acts out.
Stopping violence before it happens
Behavioral Threat Assessment and Management — BTAM — didn’t start in schools. It began with the U.S. Secret Service.
"After Kennedy was shot, they needed a better way to protect the president," Nelson explained. "They found the best method was to look at behaviors — red flags — and identify people who might pose a threat before they acted."
The approach worked. Over time, the model expanded to include threats to governors, judges and eventually schools. Today, BTAM is used nationwide to prevent targeted violence — the kind that is planned, deliberate and almost never spontaneous.
Contrary to what many people think.
"People think violence just 'pops off,'" Moore said. "But it doesn't. There’s always a pattern. Always."
Moore would know. Before joining Epic, she helped write Oklahoma’s statewide threat assessment standard for schools. She’s one of the most highly trained specialists in the state — and the only one working full‑time in a school district.
Challenges of a statewide virtual campus
Epic’s structure makes threat assessment both more complicated and, in some ways, more effective.
"We’re not just dealing with one police department," Moore said. "We’re dealing with county sheriffs in every single county in Oklahoma."
Epic’s students live everywhere — from dense urban neighborhoods to rural towns where mental health services are scarce or nonexistent. Teachers may never meet their students in person. And yet Epic's approach may allow it to see things brick‑and‑mortar schools often miss.
"One of the first indicators in Columbine was the students' writing," Moore said. "At Epic, everything is submitted online. It’s all in one place. If we’re supported, we can really dig in and pinpoint where a student needs help."
But the virtual environment also brings new risks. Students may show weapons on camera. They could talk to AI chatbots that encourage self‑harm. They could research past school shooters on school‑issued devices.
"We’ve had chatbots try to talk students into suicide," Nelson said. "It’s hard to tell what the student said and what the robot said."
Stepping off the pathway
Moore and Nelson use a model called the "pathway to violence," a series of stages potential attackers move through as they approach a violent act. Crucially, the pathway has arrows on both ends.
"Students can move up the pathway," Moore said, "but they can absolutely move back down."
Put differently, violence can be walked back before it occurs. It's not a one-way street.
The stages include:
Grievance — a triggering event, like bullying, trauma, or even hunger
Ideation — thoughts of violence, fascination with past shooters
Research and Planning — looking up weapons, studying attacks
Probing and Breaching — testing limits, seeing what they can get away with
Preparation — acquiring weapons, making final plans
Epic has seen the stages play out in real life.
"We had a student filming hallways, writing down violent addresses, posting Russian military content," Moore said. "The teacher didn’t know what it meant. But to us, it was probing and breaching."
That case eventually involved the FBI, U.S. Marshals, Secret Service and multiple police departments.
But most cases aren’t like that. Most are students who are hurting — not dangerous.
"We’ve had kids who were acting out because they were hungry," Nelson said. "We’ve had kids who needed mental health services. We’ve had kids who were victims of violence at home. BTAM works both ways — it protects others, but it also protects the student."
Prevention, not punishment
Moore and Nelson repeat this phrase often: "It’s not punitive. It’s preventative."
Their goal isn’t to catch the next school shooter. It’s to make sure no student ever becomes one. Proactive responses include planning, counseling, family support, mentorship, academic goal-setting and regular check-ins with concerning students.
Sometimes, the intervention is as simple as giving a student a future to focus on.
"We had a student in Tulsa who loved music," Moore said. "So we connected him with one of our officers who’s a musician. They met, talked, and it gave him something to work toward."
Other times, the work is heavier.
Moore once listened to a presentation from the parent of a school shooter. She described the moment her son suddenly became calm after years of turmoil.
"She thought he was getting better," Moore said. "But it was end‑of‑life planning. She didn’t know the signs. Parents need this information, too."
Getting students to speak up
The biggest obstacle Moore and Nelson face isn’t technology, jurisdiction, or even the complexity of student behavior.
It’s silence.
"Kids don’t want to be snitches," Nelson said. "But not reporting can get people hurt. It can get people killed."
He gives students a scenario: If a friend told you not to come to school because someone was planning a shooting — and you reported it — would that make you a snitch?
"Technically, yes," Nelson said. "But it makes you a hero."
Epic is working to launch a tip line to allow students to report concerns anonymously. Moore believes it will be a game‑changer.
"We want students to feel safe speaking up," she said. "We want parents to feel informed. We want teachers to know what to look for."
The victories you never hear about
Threat assessment is strange work. When it succeeds, nothing happens. No headlines. No lockdowns. No tragedies.
No one's the wiser.
"You never really know what you prevented," Nelson said. "But every now and then, you see a student turn around. You see them get help. You see them step off that pathway."
Moore nodded.
"At the end of the day," she said, "we’re here to protect kids — including the ones who are struggling the most."
Sometimes, the biggest victory is the story that never gets written.
