what are you thinking about
My freshman year of high school I was obnoxious. I had crooked teeth, a loud mouth, and opinions on just about everything. I will never understand why the older boys took notice of my group of friends, especially in me. But one did, and his name was Junior. He thought I was funny I think, and we would chat on Facebook, making me feel special. The famous homecoming dance season came, and my mother told me since I was not yet 16, I would have to turn down any invitations. I think three boys invited me, but Junior was the only one I wanted to go with. I kind of felt like a loser, explaining that my mom was making me go with friends, and that he would have to find another date, but he was so understanding, and I promised to save him a dance.
Scrolling through Facebook two or three years later, and I saw that as the time had passed, he had become a father, welcoming a new life into the world. Shortly after, someone shot him, the day before fathers day. He died, and I remember scrolling down his timeline, confused, because he was dead. I ran down to my mom, who was making cookies, and I cried. I didn't know what to say, or what to feel. I had only known one other person who had died, but it happened when I was young, and it had been an accident. This was murder.
This last week I can't help but think of him, of all the times that I have been scared because I saw a gun, of all the news headlines that name the victims. I know that guns don't automatically make someone a killer, that the person chooses how to use it. But that doesn't make it an easier to understand why guns are still sold to anybody who wants one. It doesn't make it any easier to read about mass murders. It doesn't take away the fear when you are in a school, on lock-down, because there is someone across the street with a gun. This gun violence takes away feelings of safety everywhere; from a movie theater to a parking lot.
So yeah, I wish there was less hate: less poverty, less pride, less racism, less homophobia. But we haven't gotten there yet. And I would hope that taking guns away from all of this could maybe make a difference. Maybe it could take away fear. Or maybe it could save just one life. One life that had so much more to give to society. One life that was a friend, a family member, and whose life was just beginning.
Scrolling through Facebook two or three years later, and I saw that as the time had passed, he had become a father, welcoming a new life into the world. Shortly after, someone shot him, the day before fathers day. He died, and I remember scrolling down his timeline, confused, because he was dead. I ran down to my mom, who was making cookies, and I cried. I didn't know what to say, or what to feel. I had only known one other person who had died, but it happened when I was young, and it had been an accident. This was murder.
This last week I can't help but think of him, of all the times that I have been scared because I saw a gun, of all the news headlines that name the victims. I know that guns don't automatically make someone a killer, that the person chooses how to use it. But that doesn't make it an easier to understand why guns are still sold to anybody who wants one. It doesn't make it any easier to read about mass murders. It doesn't take away the fear when you are in a school, on lock-down, because there is someone across the street with a gun. This gun violence takes away feelings of safety everywhere; from a movie theater to a parking lot.
So yeah, I wish there was less hate: less poverty, less pride, less racism, less homophobia. But we haven't gotten there yet. And I would hope that taking guns away from all of this could maybe make a difference. Maybe it could take away fear. Or maybe it could save just one life. One life that had so much more to give to society. One life that was a friend, a family member, and whose life was just beginning.
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