When the School Shooting Happens Here
I am angry, sad, and numb.
I’m so angry that I could vomit. I’m so sad that I feel like my heart could explode through my chest. And although I can’t explain how I feel numb at the same time, I do.
Anger:
I’m angry at the elected officials who have failed us for decades. One of my first childhood realizations that the world might be slightly fucked was Columbine. I was 11.
I now have a daughter who is almost the same age I was when Columbine happened. Her Columbine is Perry, Iowa—not states away, like mine, but minutes away. It’s a literal generation of failure.
Democrats, republicans, moderates, hardliners. Local, national. You’re all to blame. You had the power and you did nothing. You have the power and you’ll do nothing.
I’m angry at the shooter, just as I have been with every shooter in every school shooting that’s occurred in my lifetime. The shooter in Perry this morning could have been white, Black, Asian, gay, straight, male, woman, trans—it doesn’t matter; my outrage would have been the same. I am angry that a human being has the capacity to take the life of another this way.
I’m angry at the people who refuse to acknowledge that guns are a problem. If you’re one of those people, you are in denial, and you are wrong.
Are there other factors at play? Of course. But at the end of the day, there’s one common factor in every school shooting: the guns.
So why wouldn’t we want to make it as difficult as possible for a person who is going to shoot up a school to access a gun? Could they gain access even if there are regulations in place? Maybe, but if extra hoops and challenges prevent a single school shooting, isn’t it worth it? (If your answer here is no, by the way, get the hell out of my life.)
I’m angry at the people who call this a mental illness problem but then continue to vote for the elected officials who don’t give a single shit about mental health treatment and often times cut access or funding to it. You are hypocrites.
I’m angry that so much of my adulthood thus far has been spent fighting issues that should not still be issues in 2023. I have the urge to scream, to no one in particular but to everyone at the same time, to figure it the fuck out.
(AP Photo/Andrew Harnik)
Sadness:
I’m sad, of course, for the victims and their families and friends whose lives will never be the same. The pain is unimaginable.
I’m sad for the community of Perry. I grew up in a small Iowa town just like Perry and spent many hours in high school on Perry’s softball field and in their gym. I know enough about small towns like Perry to know the town will never be the same. Will life go on? Yes, because small towns, especially blue collar small towns like Perry, are resilient. But small towns don’t forget the way a big city might. This wound will forever fester.
I’m sad for the teachers and school administrators and staff in Perry, across our state, and across the country who have toconsider school shootings a legitimate occupational risk every single day. These types of tragedies shouldn’t be part of their job descriptions. They are educators. Not human shields. Yet, here we are.
As angry as I am at the shooter, I am sad for them too, because the path that leads anyone to such a decision (whether it be mental illness, an inherent evil, a perceived unfairness, bullying, or something else entirely) must be so very dark, lonely, and bleak. I wish that kind of darkness on no one.
Numbness:
I think my numbness is an instinctive protective mechanism that has developed over decades of watching preventable tragedy unfold with no resulting action. It’s like a callus is forming on my heart.
This numbness is the emotion that scares me the most. The anger and sadness I feel mean I still have hope that we, as Iowans, Americans, and humans, are better than this and might even do better. But when the numbness takes over—that means my hope is lost.
The numbness is stronger tonight than when I woke up this morning.
What Now
I don’t know what to do. I cried a lot today (next to strangers on airplanes, no less). All I know is that I am feeling all the feels, and I am feeling them intensely. And maybe that’s enough for now.
. . .
To my sister, who is a teacher in the metro area, and the other teachers and school administrators in my life: I love you, and I’m sorry.
Have you explored the variety of writers in the Iowa Writer’s Collaborative? They are from around the state and contribute commentary and feature stories of interest to those who care about Iowa. Please pick five you’d like to support by becoming paid. It helps keep them going. Enjoy:
The individual is obviously disturbed. He used a shotgun and a .22. You will find these in many "ordinary" households Are you proposing we go door to door and collect everyone's shotgun?
Should we ban cars because some people drive drunk?
How about we ban the leading presidential candidate since we hate him? Oh wait, you already did that. Nevermind.
Narrow minds regurgitating the same ignorance day after day. We know, it's your way or "we will just shred the constitution and blame white men".
With you, Steph.