Connecticut

I don’t think I can post the blog I was working on this week in light of the tragedy in Newtown, CT. I have been playing around with another post about a genuinely funny classroom happening, but when I opened my news browser on Friday and saw the first headline about the school shooting, I immediately shelved that entry for another day. This particular tragedy just hits me too close to where I live. On one hand I am a teacher and on the other I am a parent of elementary students. Those two things together make this particular tragedy almost more than I can manage.

I haven’t been able to read much about it; I can’t look at the pictures, I can’t listen to the interviews. My empathy button is too easily pushed, and with all I have going on in my life right now, I just can’t let myself be affected the way I know I will be if I open myself up to those feelings. My Carys is 6 years old. She is in Kindergarten. She is the sunshine of my life and every single photo of every smiling child reminds me of her. I can’t go there.

I’m trying to remain in my intellect; I’m trying to stay a thinking person instead of a feeling one this time. I know that 26 other families don’t have that luxury, and that makes me feel lucky and selfish at the same time.

Unfortunately, every time I open my Facebook and Twitter feed, I am assaulted anew with images and stories and rhetoric that threaten my resolve. There are generally two types of posts flooding social media. One is an outpouring of pain from parents and educators, and the second is a swift and angry response from the gun lobby in America. A whole faction of people support more restrictions on gun sales, more paperwork, longer waiting periods. They want to limit the access to guns and make them harder to own and therefore use. On the other side is another faction of people who stand on their 2^nd Amendment rights as if it is the last port in the storm.

Once again, I find myself in a unique position on this issue. My husband is an avid hunter. We own firearms. I have my own hunter safety certificate, and can shoot a shotgun and rifle with relative accuracy. For a time I was even into shooting trap with Aaron on weekends. Of course I agree that guns don’t kill people, people kill people.

However.

I think the anger and fear of the gun lobby is misplaced. I don’t hear our government saying that all guns should be banned. I hear them emphasizing restrictions and policies and procedures and safe guards. This somehow gets translated to “They’re trying to take away our right to bear arms!” That is a sweeping generalization, and I can’t go there either. I am never swayed by arguments that are conveyed with passion unless they are carefully worded, and as a wordsmith, I am always paying attention to the words.

For some reason, people really enjoy living in extremes. There are so few moderates out there anymore; it makes me feel very lonely. I wish people would realize that the sharply divided political structure we have today will never allow for either side to win completely. No sweeping legislation is ever going to get through the minefield called Congress. Never will a bill or a proposal succeed in completely banning or completely promoting ANYTHING because somebody somewhere won’t let it happen. On some levels, I get frustrated at the gridlock, but in this example, I find it somewhat useful.

No one is going to take away guns. What they MAY hope to accomplish, is raising the bar on who gets them, how they get them, and when they get them.

And here’s where my heart really lies on this issue. If it takes me, (a sane and non-violent homeowner) a little bit longer to obtain a weapon so that the Adam Lanzas of the world (a definitely not-sane and violent person) cannot obtain them, then so be it. I will sacrifice my ability to walk into a store tomorrow and purchase a weapon and as much ammunition as I can afford on the spot if it means that the next Adam Lanza cannot do so either.

Would greater restrictions on gun control have prevented this tragedy? Probably not. Lanza, though reported to be mentally ill, took every single one of those weapons from his mother. She, as far as I am reading, was perfectly sane and even a pretty kind and generous person. Certainly more restrictions would not have prevented her from obtaining those weapons, and that is a valid point too.

I don’t pretend that greater restrictions would have solved this particular tragedy; very likely it would not have. But I also don’t believe that we can continue down this path of unlimited access to weapons without having some checks and balances in place. We can’t have it both ways, unfortunately.

If we aren’t willing to bend on access, then should every school be in lock-down mode from 7-4? Should my Kindergartener have to walk through a metal detector to go to school? If you ask me to choose between owning an assault rifle and my child requiring an armed guard to attend SCHOOL, then I am more than willing to give up the gun. (What exactly is the burning desire for assault weapons anyway, may I ask? The last time I checked, our 12 gauge was providing food for my family on a regular basis and I’m pretty sure it could protect my family from an intruder just the same.) But I digress.

One last wondering, and maybe this is the real question of the day. Why is it so difficult for the parents of mentally ill children to get support and the resources they need to address their situation? (And this IS a problem. Having worked for 13 years as a teacher, I have seen first hand how many parents struggle to get help for their children.)

Our farm feels like a pretty safe little bubble; it feels safer and safer every day. I don’t have any real answers; I have no truth to take away from this. I am sure that even my blog today will raise the ire in some of my friends. I’m not trying to be argumentative, and I’m not trying to push an agenda. I don’t even know for sure exactly what I think/feel because I am so carefully guarding my emotion at the moment.

 There are a few things I know for sure. I know that when Carys gets in my car everyday after school, she is positively bursting with stories about what happened that day. She loves her teacher, her classroom, her locker, her school. She can’t wait to get there every morning. It brings me real joy to see that light in her eyes and hope that the love of learning she is developing will burn even brighter as she gets older.

I know that I drop her off every day in the capable hands of a magical teacher who is kind and gentle and excited about school. I trust that her little heart will be cared for. And I trust, somewhat blindly, that she will be waiting for me at 3:00pm to tell me what she had for lunch and what she painted that day and what story they read and what song they sang.

I know that 26 mothers would give anything to be me right now.

I keep stumbling around for a closing, trying to tie together these threads into a little nugget of truth I can look back on later. I am looking for some kind of wisdom to impart to my children, who will be reading this one day. I can’t find the right words, I can’t find the message, I’m not even sure that I will feel the same way next week that I feel today.

Maybe what I take away today is that our time here is limited; I need to love more and argue less. I need to be more patient, more kind, and more present in my relationships because you never know, you really never know, how long you have with them.

My favorite Facebook posting comes from a movement to perform 26 Random Acts of Kindness to honor the lives of those 26 angels. I’m participating in that one for sure. To the mothers of the victims of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting, my heart goes with you.