By Leigh Jenkins: Freelance Writer
I cannot remember a time that I was afraid of guns or gun violence.
I grew up in Virginia in the 70s, so we were left alone as latchkey kids to think and feel – and do – pretty much whatever we wanted as children. On top of that, I was raised by a very Republican, radically Pentecostal, single mother who worked all the time and literally dragged me to church at least at least 3 times a week.
We had guns in our house – or at least my brother did, and I had no fear that I would be hurt, or I would hurt anyone else with those weapons. They were in the closet or under my brother’s bed, and of course leaning against the wall behind his bedroom door. Almost all my neighborhood friends had guns in their houses. And most of my family members had a gun or two in their homes, too.
I was not afraid of guns.
I am still not afraid of guns. I am not afraid of holding one, shooting one, hunting with one, or thinking that I might need one to protect myself from some random intruder with one, but for the first time in my life I am keenly aware of what a gun can do to a fourth grader.
When I think of fourth grade, I think of my first year in public school. I think of my teacher, Mrs. Woodby, and how she smoked those long Virginia Slims in the classroom and read to us everyday from the King James. I went home from school every day smelling like I had been out all night at the bar with a good story about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego ruminating in my head.
What I don’t remember about fourth grade was being killed. Shot in the face. Dead.
Now here we are six months after the Robb Elementary Shooting in Uvalde, Texas. An assault style gun was used to kill 19 children, two teachers, and injured 15 others.
These guns that mowed down these precious souls were purchased legally. The person who bought them was young, troubled, not living with his parents, had dropped out of school, angry, and was known by his handle, “school shooter” on social media. This young person did not buy the guns to hunt or protect his home – he bought them to kill humans. And now we know it was mostly little humans.
So ask me now how I feel about guns…
I feel like our state government is failing us by not passing laws that would restrict and control the sale of – not outlaw – assault weapons. Raise the age to purchase to 21 and institute red flag laws. If you sell guns, why not institute your own red flag policies. I am sure you can have a lawyer figure that out for you.
I feel like our school district, our school police, our city police, our city government, our county sheriffs department, some state law enforcement just absolutely failed this community and none of them, not individually or collectively, has the spine enough to stand up, take responsibility for their personal and professional failures and fucking resign. Go sell cars, but leave the protection of humans to the brave. Yall are not brave. If we need parking meter attendants, we will be sure to call.
I feel like we all feel sad, tortured even for the lives that were lost, but we certainly do not feel bad enough for anyone to lose their jobs because they choked on duty. We have a lot of “forgive him” or “he tried” or “there’s still more information out there that will exonerate mijo” attitudes out there that are insulating these law enforcement officers from feeling badly about not protecting or serving little kids.
I feel like everyone, including me, have made huge, life changing mistakes along the way in this life, and the consequences are real, swift, and even harsh. Did these local law enforcement officers even get a letter in their HR file? The audacity that exists amongst our local law enforcement personnel is at a level I believe a good dose of humility and self-awareness would help cure. I want the cops in the Robb Elementary hallway to not have guns anymore.
This is how I feel about guns.