I've taught in South Los Angeles for 30 years. The forces that drive violence are complex.

I remember when politicians and journalists used the term "superpredator" to describe young men who committed violent crimes. It was easy for middle-class and affluent people, who feared street crime and violence and whose sons were not likely to be swept up in the hysteria, to toss around such labels.

As someone who grew up knowing young men who resorted to crime and violence, I was skeptical of such generalizations. What I remembered from my childhood was that the most dangerous guys were the most pathetic. They held delusions of grandeur to hide their massive insecurities.

We didn’t use the word depression back then, but in retrospect I think it often fit. One guy, who I’d put in that category, jumped out of his family’s apartment to his death in his late teens.

Opinions in your inbox: Get exclusive access to our columnists and the best of our columns every day

When I took a job teaching English at a school in South Los Angeles in 1992, I was told there were risks working in the community – crime and violence were an epidemic in those years – but I quickly learned that the reasons for that violence were complex and nuanced. And, not surprisingly, I saw no evidence of any superpredators.

Emotional turmoil fuels violence

What I discovered was that most violence could be attributed to emotional turmoil – volatile combinations of anger, frustration, fear, envy and hopelessness – along with empathy stunted by trauma. Those who resorted to violence also often suffered from self-destructive thought patterns and an inability to transcend the cycles of violence that consumed them.

I remember the first time I watched a kid make a life-altering choice. He had been trying to extricate himself from a gang affiliation and everything that went with it. Gang rivals didn’t care about his transformation and came after him on our campus.

He defended himself, ended up in handcuffs, then in tears at the possibility he might get kicked out of the only school he felt had done anything for him.

Why mass shootings fear is so pervasive: Misleading statistics and marathon news coverage

I spoke up for him with the principal, and we negotiated a suspension instead. The next day, he violated his suspension and showed up to a basketball game he wasn’t allowed to play in, and which I was coaching.

After a tough loss, he barged into the locker room, argued with teammates and started to throw a punch at one. Teammates restrained him, and we all agreed to keep what had happened among us while he promised he would not throw another punch at anyone. He never got in trouble again and is now a middle-age, middle-class family man.

Not every story ended like that one, and we lost too many students to violence and incarceration. But I’ve never believed that anyone was unreachable. Rather, we just didn’t have the resources, the time or the expertise to give these young people what they needed. And too often the system – the school system, the criminal justice system – gives up on people too easily.

Students learn by trial and error

The great Irish writer Samuel Beckett wrote, shortly before his death: “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” Those words, in size 144 font, hang in my classroom, and I often refer to them.

I want students to understand that the hard work of trial and error is the path to success. Insisting on instant mastery of anything is a formula for delusion or misery. Many of my students need to get over their terror of failure, and so in my class, progress is the goal. Effort and intellectual risk are rewarded.

Gun violence: I have buried too many victims of gun violence. The Supreme Court decision means I'll bury more.

But I must always temper that message for my students. Because success through failure – trial and error – is a dangerous concept for them outside the academic sphere.

Children of privilege can make terrible mistakes and recover from them with the financial support and position of parents. Just as adults with money, power and position can slice and dice the law to avoid accountability.

These days, we no longer hear about superpredators but about smash-and-grab robberies, follow-home burglaries and murder. Scary stuff.

The new buzz word is “brazen.” And I take no issue with its application, even as I try to diagnose why some of our students exhibit their own forms of brazenness.

A reason to save himself

This school year, a 15-year-old student found himself at the crossroads between life and death with the lure of the streets and the promise of making money seeming to be worth the risks. But he showed up to my classroom every day, virtually every class period, even though he was not enrolled in any of my classes. He was searching, it seemed, for a reason to save himself and hoping I would provide it for him.

I sure as hell tried, touting the beauty and transformation of an education, much as I know these are somewhat dubious claims in an age of increased standardized testing in high school and sometimes massive college debt for those who pursue higher education.

Title IX: Biden would use civil rights office … to strip civil rights from students

I also showed him the evidence that the drug trade and other criminal activity is immoral, dangerous and mostly unsustainable. But he knew the flaw in my argument – because for the rich and powerful, crime often does pay and accountability is rare.

What does that have to do with him? Unfortunately, it has everything to do with him.

I remember when on-court fights were a regular feature of professional basketball. Whenever there was a big NBA brawl, I had to be on guard for a fight to break out during our high school games. Young people are impressionable. More so, perhaps, than we often realize.

They learn less from our sermons than from observing our behavior.

So when I read about brazen criminal attacks on the streets of our cities, I can't help but think about what we saw on our televisions on Jan. 6, 2021, and the revelations about it we are now discovering.

There are many complex reasons for crime and violence, and they should be addressed, honestly and courageously. Starting with the tragic lessons our young people keep learning from those with power and privilege.

More from Larry Strauss

Teachers like me protect students: Your move, politicians and gun advocates

COVID-19: My students wouldn't get vaccinated. I knew I had to intervene.

Larry Strauss has been a high school English teacher in South Los Angeles since 1992. He is a member of USA TODAY's Board of Contributors and the author of more than a dozen books, including "Students First and Other Lies: Straight Talk From a Veteran Teacher" and his new novel, "Light Man." Follow him on Twitter: @LarryStrauss

You can read diverse opinions from our Board of Contributors and other writers on the Opinion front page, on Twitter @usatodayopinion and in our daily Opinion newsletter. To respond to a column, submit a comment to letters@usatoday.com.

This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Violent crime in America's cities has complicated roots