I spend a lot of time passively scrolling through Facebook arguments. The cynic in me says that if I jump in, I won’t be able to change anyone’s mind, so I’m the kind of Facebook participant who likes to watch from the sidelines, and make my comments in the privacy of my own home.
“Wow, James. How can you not see the blatant racism in THAT comment?” I’ll mutter, scrolling down to read the response.
“Damn, Matt! You didn’t hold back!”
I read the entire thread and cheer for Matt. I decide James is drunk.
Sometimes, if the comment is strong enough, I’ll gather up the courage to “like” it. I won’t comment further, but at least the person who had the courage to enter the debate knows they have a little support.
It’s not like I don’t have opinions; I have about 470 of them on any given day. However, I try very hard not to be one-sided about issues. Perhaps it’s because I grew up raised by two sets of parents – one set liberal, intelligent, socially active, and Methodist. The other set more conservative, intelligent, reserved, and Methodist. Both sets of parents raised us in loving homes where we learned a lot of the same core values: work hard, care for others in need, get an education.
Today, with my husband and teen daughter, I will participate in the March for our Lives. While I don’t engage in many online conversations about guns, because again, I don’t think I can change minds, I’m encouraged by those who have allowed themselves to shift their thinking about guns. Take the guy who destroyed his gun after the Parkland shootings. I cried when I watched that! After, I rolled my eyes when a gun advocate posted that the guy did it incorrectly, creating an illegal firearm. Oops.
I never imagined in my life that I would shoot a gun, and up until 2015, if you had told me that I would be shooting a shotgun off of my ample hip at a ranch in Texas, I never would have believed you. Yet, in 2015, that’s exactly what I did.
For the past few years, a group of friends get together at a friend’s ranch and spend the weekend playing music, games, talking and laughing, and, for those who are inclined, shooting skeet. The first year we were there, I was absolutely terrified at the idea of being around guns, but the people who brought them are responsible and safe gun owners. I allow myself to listen to their views on guns. Face to face conversations about these matters make a big difference. Face to face, I didn’t get to hide behind Facebook comments, and I had a better opportunity to understand the role of a hunter. It’s amazing how much we learn when we allow ourselves to listen.
By 2015, I was ready to shoot a gun. Safely, under the wing of a dear friend who talked me through every move and stayed with me the entire time, I aimed the gun at a target on the ground and pulled the trigger. (In the picture, my friend is talking me through it; I ended up shooting from the hip because I was so afraid of the kickback on my shoulder.)
It was one of the most powerful moments of my life.
I didn’t hate it. I didn’t love it, either. I cried hysterically afterwards, and immediately realized that when I pulled the trigger, I felt an immense sense of power and fear. I wondered what that might feel like if I were a troubled kid in a dark movie theater, shooting innocent strangers.
It was big. It frightened me. Since then, I’ve shot a few other kinds of guns at the ranch, always in a protected environment where I am with safe gun owners. I now know for a fact that I don’t need to own a gun. If someone came to invade my home and I had a gun in my hand, there is no way on God’s green earth I would have the wherewithal to shoot them.
Last night, after a week of being sick and wondering if I could make it, I whipped up some posters for today’s March for Our Lives. I’m stepping outside of the comfort of Facebook to stand in solidarity with the survivors of the Parkland shootings to speak out against gun violence. I’m marching for their lives, and for our children’s and teachers and school administrator’s live, because I believe it’s the right thing to do, and that by speaking out, we can make changes that will save lives. I’m energized by the activism of these students, and incredibly moved by their ability to balance their need to mourn with their need to speak out and make a change.
I believe in responsible gun ownership, but I know as a country we have to do more to protect our children. I can’t bear to see another news story of children gunned down while going to school. I’m anti AR-15. I’m for strict background checks. I think the NRA owns too many politicians, but that my friends who are NRA members are still my friends. I think if we follow the example of the children who are leading this cause, we can all learn to grow up and listen.
I don’t have all of the answers, but I want to be part of the solution. And if you want to talk about guns, then let’s sit down over coffee or a glass of wine, and talk outside of the walls of Facebook.
