Where will they be safe?
I wrote the first draft of this post yesterday. It was a reactionary rant, days of pent up emotion, and when I decided to quit an hour later, I still felt no release.
Last Saturday, when I heard about the cataclysmic morning in Sandy Hook, I immediately thought of the kids I see everyday. I thought about my cousins at home and my friends with their new babies. These children. Children. As my aunt said yesterday over the phone, “Where are they going to be safe?”
The physical distance between Connecticut and Korea is huge, and soon time will make the tragedy seem remote for all of us who were indirectly affected. I worry about that, and I don’t want to forget. I want to remember the kids, the teachers, and the people who lost them. We will go about our daily lives, trying to compartmentalize the good and the bad, the immediate, the past, and the future. I think in a way, that’s where we go wrong. We too easily forget, and so history repeats itself. We forget compassion and what it means to think of others as much as we think of ourselves. We slip back into habitual behavior, behind a false sense of protection, and we forget that just as easily as it happened on Friday, it could have happened to us. I don’t know what the answer is. I don’t have a suggestion beyond more compassion, for everyone. I absolutely don’t believe guns add anything positive to our world. Not for hunting, sport, collection, or protection. Talk of teachers being trained to use guns? A terrifying thought, and it makes me incredibly sad. But I don’t think the solution is as easy as outlawing guns outright. There’s a reason I don’t work in politics. My impatience, for one…
I think it’s time we all share responsibility for this. We’ve made our world the way it is. Who will make the change? If we don’t want this – and really who wants this? – we’ve got to start with something now. Maybe we start with compassion. I’m oversimplifying the issue, I know, but that’s okay. Compassion is doable, and we can do it better now.