My Thoughts, Day Two

by Ana Connery

My Thoughts, Day Two

Our content director relfects on Newtown: “Yesterday I was heartbroken, today I am angry”

Yesterday I was heartbroken. Today I’m angry. Teeth-gritting, hair-pulling, head-shaking angry.

Random thoughts that dart back and forth like the air hockey game my son loves to play. The gunman’s mother owned three guns, according to several news sources. One of them is a rifle, says a legal analyst. He’s careful to point out that it was not an automatic weapon like folks are mistakenly saying, though it is quite similar.

Damn it, does it really matter? Those guns killed more than two dozen people. What normal human being whose job is not in law enforcement needs to own three weapons with the power to kill 20 children and six adults? For those of you who point to hunters, I say to hell with that too. If getting these guns off the streets means we won’t be able to wipe out as many deer, then who in their right mind could argue otherwise? So we shoot fewer elk. We eat less meat. We find other ways to bond in nature. What is wrong with us, America?

Plus: Talking to Kids About the Newtown School Shooting

The constitution says we have the right to bear arms. The trouble is, that piece of paper was written by hand centuries ago, and to ignore the world we live in today is to be horribly, disgustingly irresponsible. Common sense dictates that our forefathers, with suppressing insurrection or deterring tyrannical government in mind, never imagined that phrases like “drive-by shootings” and “school massacres” would become part of the American lexicon. But here we are, using them daily, a thoroughly unacceptable four times this year alone.

It should be illegal to own anything that can do this much damage to human life. Period. If you don’t believe me, ask the parents who were left in that firehouse in Connecticut yesterday after all the children who survived had been reunited with their families. Ask them what it felt like to hear that there would be no more reunions, to know with certainty that your child is lying dead inside the very school where you sent them to learn to read and add, where you hoped they’d learn things you couldn’t teach them, where they’d figure out how to make friends, and wait their turn on the playground.

Let’s stop praying and hugging our kids for a moment and hound our legislators for not just stricter but life-saving, monumental changes to gun control laws. The debate is always “too soon” until it’s too late.