All Sorts of Strong
On February 7, my community found solitude in coming together as Okemos Strong after the terrifying swatting of our high school that led to an enormous number of heavily armed law enforcement officers descending on the building, systematically securing the scene, and processing our children to ensure no active threat existed. There was a stretch of time when many students believed classmates had been shot and an active shooter was nearby. The PTSD from this experience is real.
On February 14, my community found solitude in coming together as Spartan Strong after the terrifying mass shooting the previous night at Michigan State University that killed three students, left five in ICU with critical injuries, and held a campus of 52K students captive in their run/fight/hide positions for the grueling four hours it took to locate the shooter and bring the immediate crisis to an end.
Theoretically, I’m strong on two fronts. Truthfully, I’ve never felt more weak. In addition to beginning to look like a NASCAR with advertisements of strength stamped all over me, no observed action by me or others feels adequate as a response to end this madness. This is no shade to those making these designs and attempting to raise funds for what’s needed to put things back together — as much as possible, at least — and move forward. You are doing something. That matters.
In terms of solutions, I can’t say I have any that feel effective. My brain naturally thinks in systems. Many options being discussed chip away at the problem and may do some good if everyone agrees to collectively get behind and enforce or support them. Our track record of working for the collective good isn’t encouraging.
I found myself in two interesting exchanges this week. One was with an individual who trains police officers to respond to mass shootings. The conversation was completely random. I’m convinced I was meant to cross paths with him because his words helped ease the clawing anxiety gripping me from two traumatic experiences so close together. His words were the verbal form of Lexipro.
“There were hundreds of law enforcement officers and hundreds of thousands of civilians on campus and across nearby communities all focused on helping, being okay, and wanting others to be okay. There was one shooter.” He encouraged we not lose sight of the fact those with good intentions and actions far outnumber those seeking to harm and destroy.
The second exchange was more antagonistic. I intentionally exposed myself to a debate among outsiders regarding guns on college campuses and how impractical and illogical the fears and expectations of people like me are given current realities. The gist was two-fold. There was the standard tripe that gun control measures will put us on a course where only the bad guys have guns. I’m not sure how we get to that outcome in a country with 400M guns and 325M people. Gun ownership is bipartisan and vast.
The second theme was the fairy tale notion that shootings like this don’t happen in places where individuals are known to be armed. Many school shootings, including Parkland, Oxford and Uvalde, had armed guards on the property. They listed military bases, police precincts and — brace yourself — nuclear power plants as examples of spaces mass shooters avoid. Aside from the inconvenient facts guns are heavily controlled on bases and shootings have occurred on them and in police precincts, this impractical and illogical woman is hard pressed to believe we are in a position to secure our public spaces to the degree of a nuclear power plant. The commenter was right about there not being a documented shooting at one, however. Something to think about. Now I’m hoping I haven’t jinxed this to the point we end up needing a Nuclear Power Plant Strong shirt.
I agree with gun owners who believe there are too many guns in circulation to keep them out of the hands of bad guys and that good guys with guns probably need them to potentially defend themselves and others. Again, 400M guns. I also agree we likely have laws on the books that, if aggressively enforced, would chip away at some of what we are experiencing. At least we do or did. There is a growing number of states removing red flag laws, putting guns back in the hands of domestic violence suspects & offenders, and finding their laws regarding concealed carry permit requirements being challenged in federal courts.
Where I think responsible gun owners and enthusiasts are falling short is in boldly addressing the blatantly negative aspects of gun culture in the United States. The NRA of my childhood would have been leading this conversation. Their concern for responsible gun ownership was limited to the Black Panthers, it seems.
I live in Michigan where our most ardent 2A “defenders” — I don’t think the 2nd Amendment is as encompassing as I’ve heard argued — are huddled up on public Tik Tok lives and in flag-draped rallies talking about the coming civil war and preparations to take down our tyrannical government while also talking about thoroughly debunked injustices mixed in with a dose of alien blood theories. It is not comforting to know citizens with powerful arsenals and a questionable collection of anger-inducing ‘facts’ are, mentally and proudly, on the brink of war. Every anger evoking topic stemming from a difference of opinion or perceived snub is countered with a show of symbols and gear intended to plant the seed of the power the angry have in their hands to destroy and terrify.
To responsible gun owners, the thought of being in a situation where they need to turn their gun on another is sobering and they hope it’s never necessary. Shooting another is a last-option defense mechanism, not a foaming-at-the-mouth retaliation fantasy for some grievance. The death of an innocent resulting from a mistake or incorrect assumption would be devastating, versus defended with criticism of the victims’ or organization’s failure to properly prevent the violence by their actions, measures or appearance. It’s not normal or humane for one’s first response to learning of the murders and terror at Michigan State to be, “well, that’s what happens when everyone isn’t carrying guns.”
The current vibe from vocal gun activists enjoying the limelight from a tabloid style media culture is disturbing. They are beacons of possibility for the mentally unwell with an ax to grind. They normalize the voices in some people’s heads that should send alarm bells to themselves and those who surround them. This isn’t normal. It can’t be normal.
I was told I have an illogical fear of guns. Not so. I’m not afraid to hold or be near a gun. I’m not afraid to be in a home with a rifle cabinet with guns locked up for hunting, target shooting and the occasional rabid animal that comes along. I am terrified of the thought of my kids being ambushed in a school, movie theater, mall or other public space. I’d be terrified if someone walked into a space where I was absorbed in a normal function and suddenly had to turn into a Navy Seal in order to increase my chances of surviving and saving others. That’s not illogical fear. I think those claiming it is would be equally terrified of the same things. I hope they never have a reason to find out.
Mostly, I have no confidence in the growing number of gun owners who are transparent with their rage and who have invited guns to be part of their identity as they navigate conflict. I’m chilled by the apparent lack of grief or shock from those whose first instinct after a devastating mass shooting is to coldly pronounce them to be not as prevalent as we think, something they could have put an end to or something that wouldn’t have happened if we secured our spaces like, say, a nuclear power plant. I’m disappointed in the silence from the segment of responsible gun owners who are equally concerned, but remain quiet because they don’t want to be in conflict with those strapping AR-15s on to go to Subway. If you don’t want to be in conflict with them, imagine how our kids feel?
Silence is for reflecting on those lost, not for preventing the loss of those we refuse to need to mourn in the future.
