The teens charged in the recent Boone County cross burning fit the classic hate-crime offender to a T. Those who do such things, experts say, tend to be young males who have been generally unsuccessful in life, powerless, marginalized by society. They do what they do because it gives them bragging rights and a sense of domination. And they do it when the world they know is changing, and they cannot prevent it.

Understanding the psyche of hatemongers is not a pleasant activity. Faced with a hate crime, communities typically dismiss it as an aberration and hope to quickly forget it. But that denial, experts say, is why a burning cross still appears almost weekly somewhere in America.

It flared up in Greater Cincinnati on July 2. We cannot run from its ugly glow; we can insist on being enlightened by it.

Jack Levin, director of the Brudneck Center on Violence at Northeastern University and an expert on hate crimes, says such crimes do not pop up at random. They often are triggered by a changing dynamic, such as minority families moving into formerly all-white neighborhoods. Those changes, Levin says, "make the advantaged group feel threatened."

At heart, hate crimes are bullying. As in playground incidents, the perpetrator was often bullied himself. Prevention lies in supporting the victim, addressing the emotional problems of the bully and making bystanders - neighbors, classmates - understand the necessity of getting involved.

Communities that make themselves resistant to hate crimes, Levin says, are communities that openly promote acceptance, compassion and respect for diversity. They are communities that teach their children how to get along with others and how to settle disagreements.

Hate-free communities are those that keep every child on their radar screen. Rather than turning from the ostracized, unsuccessful child, they turn toward him. They provide mental health services and bolster social skills. They seek out and applaud his successes, rather than - when he is 18 and has burned a cross on someone's lawn - punish his sins.

In hate-free communities, there is little anonymity. Neighbors support neighbors and openly embrace diverse newcomers. They re-establish the intimacy and interdependence that was the old American way.

Levin says there is even an enlightened way to deal with young hatemongers. Extended prison time is the surest way to connect them to organized hate groups and turn them into embittered racists. He says the better punishment is to force them to make restitution to victims, begin counseling and pair up with an adult advocate.

Boone County officials say they are thinking carefully about how to respond, from issuing a resolution denouncing the crime to providing more programs that address children's physical and mental health needs, such as Success By Six. They say education, and soul-searching, are the keys to preventing hate crimes.

It sounds like a good place to begin.