American kids and American guns

What if a gunman shot up your child’s school and what you had left were text messages? Or a shoe? Or just the memory of saying goodbye that morning? Or any of a number of things parents hold onto when they’ve lost their hearts.

I have been horrified by gun violence in America for years, and my kids have both had to participate in countless drills at school over those same years. Last spring, I happened to pick Oliver up from school just before a gunman opened fire on another school nearby. On our drive home, he received a message from a friend asking if he knew what was happening at Sidwell and in the neighborhood. The school locked down (many kids still there), police cordoned off all surrounding streets, helicopters flew in, and ultimately we found that Burke was being attacked. I remember Oliver and I sitting in our backyard, listening for hours to the rotors of the circling copters (we live close to school), and me thinking “shit this was close; keep it together for Ol.”

Yesterday morning, I received the first of the above texts from Jack. Halfway through our hour of exchange, I heard helicopters fly in. Shit.

J is at any age where I rarely share anything remotely private about him, but I feel the need to publish our exchange because it is both so simple and also everything. Only later yesterday afternoon, as we rearranged his room and put out his new plants, did we acknowledge to each other how scared we’d been.

I, he, all of us are so fucking sick of this.

One parent compiled some of what they heard their kids and their friends saying once home. Their words are lacerating, and I agree with them completely.

“Even though no one was hurt, it’s not true that nothing happened. Everyone was terrified. People were crying. It was so scary. I don’t want to go back tomorrow.

Don’t pretend like nothing happened. Why is everyone so numb to this? We are so ***king scared. This wasn’t a tornado warning. It’s not fine."

"If this is so terrible, treat it like something that’s terrible."

"If you go to school in America, this is going to happen. We have been training for this since kindergarten. That doesn’t mean that today felt like nothing. I thought there was a possibility of dying."

"Do you know how long an hour is when you think you are going to die?"

Why do put our children, parents, teachers through this? Why do we accept this as ok? Guns are worth this? “Freedom” -such a bastardized word now- is worth this?

Ultimately, thankfully, there was no gun. But there could have been. And look what the threat of one did. And for good reason. The odds aren’t really in the kids’ favor.

Another day of school lost. Another hope of normalcy lost. Kids hiding in kilns (yesterday). Kids showing substitute teachers how to lower the blinds and properly lock the doors (yesterday). Kids shushing each other (yesterday; all the time). Teachers finding long poles to wield should an intruder break in (yesterday; all the time). Parents showing up at school, terrified (yesterday; all the time). Parents and kids texting, with fear slipping into the efforts to mask it with love and strength (yesterday; all the time).

Today, a long-term sub Jack has didn’t show up. He’d called a kid a hideous slur, so good riddance, but shit. Jack said, so casually it was like a sharp knife to soft butter, “yesterday I could have died, and today I have no teacher.”

What are we doing? WHAT ARE WE DOING?

My children are safe at home tonight

One of my sons has been asleep for a couple hours now, tucked in after a fun family afternoon, a good dinner, and a warm bath. 

The other just got home from a school dance, sweaty and flushed and "so pumped up." He smelled a bit, but I couldn't help but hold him tight as he told me about the dance and the music and the ice cream. He's had a tough year, and I was so hopeful that tonight would be fun. It was. And now, he is safely in bed, here with us at home.

Worrying about your child having fun at a middle school dance is a typical, expected parental concern.

Worrying that your child will be shot to death at their school is not, should not be, cannot become an expected parental concern.

Today, again, more children were gunned down while simply trying to go to school. While most of us are counting down the few remaining days of this academic year, some parents tonight are instead planning shockingly unexpected funerals. With this, the 22nd school shooting of this year and the third just this week, "2018 has been deadlier for schoolchildren than service members."

If we as a nation are not mortified and ashamed into real action by that obvious disregard for our children (and the converse which is the obvious idolatrous obsession with firearms), then we are truly beyond repair. 

It's the guns, stupid.

And don't even get me started on the fact that the white murderer was taken into custody without a scratch. If he'd been black, he'd have been blown to smithereens in moments.

On guns and kitchens

I am still so upset about the most recent mass shooting that I can't wholly articulate my thoughts yet.

I will say this: If you feel that your right to have an assault rifle trumps a child's right to safely attend school, you are sick and have truly fucked up priorities. If you think that guns don't kill people, people kill people, and you can watch this video of bloody kids (shot) dead in classrooms, you are wrong and sick and have some sort of terrifyingly selfish ability to compartmentalize the facts on the ground. If you think that "thoughts and prayers" are anything but an offensive and grotesque slap in the face to all victims of gun violence, you are wrong and beyond offensive.

Emma Gonzalez, a 17-year-old student from Parkland, FL, said it best: "We call BS!" If you haven't seen her powerful speech at the anti-gun rally following the slaughter at her school, please watch.

***

In lighter news, our damn kitchen renovation. We had a few hairy days following Tuesday's debacle with the plumbing permit. On Thursday, after paying one water commission inspector $200 to come out and count our toilets (to double-confirm the number we and our plumber had already provided), I spent four hours at the water commission attempting to finish things.

Initially I was told that we would have to "put our renovation on hold for 6-8 months until WSSC could come out and install the new main and meter." Early responses to my plea that "not only do I currently have no kitchen but also I have two kids and there are holes all over my house" included "rules are rules." Ah, yes, but I didn't break the rules.

Finally, after applying for an abandonment permit, a service connection permit, attaching a notarized promise to pay for the upgraded service to my house note, paying the abandonment fee, and paying for a new permit, I was promised continuation of our renovation PENDING an inspection Friday morning. After that was complete, I waited several hours for an elusive yellow sticker to be granted. Now, we can proceed.

Fortunately, and I say this with the most sincere gratitude in the world, we really do have an amazing team. They continued work on everything that didn't require inspection such as dry wall repair, replacing a random rotten board on our deck, patching the floors, and finishing up the new register installs. Everything is looking good and cabinet delivery starts early next week. 

Before the snow started falling today, we had a gloriously sunny morning. I went nuts working in the yard- dividing my houseplants, pruning and sawing, raking and bagging. My soul felt so happy and light. My yard is one of my primary sources of life and joy. Thank goodness we can afford to keep our access to water and hoses. I am grateful. 

two happy plants are now four