Some Angry Words About Guns
December 14, 2012 § Leave a comment
Welp. Here we go. If you’re reading this, then you’ve wandered into my thoughts on the elementary school shooting today. And guns. I was mindlessly vacuuming and eager to put my 3 year-old and 1 year-old down for their naps when I heard the report. I barely heard the words: “18 children dead” before tears streamed down my face.
Unthinkable. I was shaking at the thought of such a horrible event. I don’t ever cry, but I did today.
I’m still sad. But there’s more. Now, I’m angry.
Actually, I’m furious.
When are we going to take time to address mental health in this country? Men in their twenties keep shooting masses of people, but do we discuss this? The answer is ‘no.’ I’ve not heard anyone discussing the AGE and GENDER of these shooters. It’s males in their twenties if I’m not mistaken. Should we ask ourselves why men of this age are doing this? I’d say 18-25 yr-olds are more prone to outrageous violence. That’s just me.
And did they just lead a perfectly NORMAL life for twenty-odd years and wake up one day and say “Hey, you know I’ve never shot a person. I should probably go do that. Better yet, I’ll shoot some children. FUN.” ? Well.. Did they?
I don’t think they did. They’re sick. They’re deranged. They needed some type of help and I’m thinking there were probably people in their lives that thought they were not quite right. But we, as a society, ignored them. WE did! (I include myself.) Let’s talk about this!
I don’t know how many tweets or posts I’ve read talking about how mad they are at the person who did this. In my opinion, this is misplaced anger. Sure, it’s wrong and unthinkable. But directing anger at them is futile.
Now, I get to the part where I’m QUITE THOROUGHLY FUCKING PISSED. (I feel this violent language conveys most accurately just the NATURE of my WRATH, and yes, I’m raising my voice.)
You know what? I don’t own a gun. I don’t want to own a gun. I don’t want to shoot one. I don’t want to kill. I don’t want to kill an animal or a person or hit a can. That’s my right. I don’t want guns in my life, but I have to tolerate them because others do. I don’t believe in hunting, and I don’t eat meat. Whatever. I respect other’s rights, though. This is me.
And you know what? You can own a gun if you want. You can love your gun. You may even sleep with your gun snuggled next to your pillow every night. You might even have a cute nickname for your gun. Maybe it’s Bubbles. I don’t know.
I used to think that was your right.
I do not think this anymore.
I do NOT think it’s your right. Not anymore.
You know why? Because I don’t want Bubbles to kill me. Or more accurately, I don’t want YOU to kill me. Most importantly, I don’t want you to kill my babies –my two completely helpless children that depend on me for everything: to wipe their butts, feed them, make sure they’re warm. To keep them alive.
I believe you should have to prove that you’re not a mentally deranged psychopath in order to own a gun. I think you should take tests and have letters of recommendation, see a counselor– SOMETHING– before you get a weapon that allows you to hurt many people from afar. Prove you are stable. Prove you aren’t insane.
We’re failing as a country.
In not speaking out about guns and gun violence, I’ve failed as a parent. I’m not doing my job, which is protecting my children.
In an ideal world, there would be no guns. I don’t think that’s going to happen. (I mean, they love Bubbles and what else are they going to snuggle at night?)
But people’s “RIGHT” to have guns, screws with my “RIGHT” to leave my house with my kids and not be shot at and/or killed. So, until some kind of legislation is passed enforcing stricter laws, I will be writing to my state officials to address this issue. I will speak out about this so that maybe by the time my kids go to school, I won’t be terrified that they won’t come home.
These are my thoughts. My prayers are with every person affected by this senseless violence. May God be with us all.