I don’t really know that much about guns. I don’t really know how to get one, what licenses are needed for one or where I could — in theory — shoot it legally. I’ve never had a desire to own a gun, and I’ve never lived in an area where I thought one was necessary to keep myself or my family safe. No one in my family has ever owned a gun, and the closest I’ve come to shooting one is at a few laser tag birthday parties in 2014.
I also don’t know how to hunt, nor do I really want to. I couldn’t tell you how to load a gun or the correct stance to take when shooting it. I don’t know what type of guns are better for short- or long-range shooting or what accessories are needed for guns to satisfy individual desires. In fact, until about eighth grade I thought a machete was a type of gun.
What I do know is that there have been 611 incidents of gunfire on school grounds since 2016, the year I started high school. I know I participated in a school walkout after the Parkland shooting before I even knew how to drive a car. I know my school had multiple threats of gun violence every year. I know that, after three individual threats were made for a shooting that was to occur one day in 2019, only 20% of students showed up for classes. I was not in that group.
I know school shootings became something I expected, with active shooter drills run at least once a year. I know I imagined what I would have done in a school shooting more times than I imagined my own wedding. I know, when one of my classmates was arrested during my freshman year of high school after asking another student for a gun to shoot up my graduation four years later, it was barely acknowledged and business continued as usual.
I know that every time — and the fact that I have to say “every time” is beyond alarming — there is a school shooting, I see many lawmakers scoff at the thought of creating change. I know that I’m tired of hearing that their “thoughts and prayers” are with the families of those dead without any action done about it. I know I should not resonate so much with the March for our Lives movement because I know kids should not have to fight to feel safe in their schools and communities.
But maybe most importantly, I know I was never among the estimated 3 million kids who witness a shooting every year. I know my pain and frustration is nothing compared to those who lost family and friends to someone who decided to bring a gun into their middle, high or even elementary school.
But I know the threat of a shooting occurring hasn’t disappeared since I graduated; 39,000 people die from gun violence annually in this country, and the U.S. suffers the most deaths from gun violence among high-income nations. I know I see gun control conversation proposed and shot down time and time again, each time more fervently than the last.
I know the impact of gun violence on those who witness or experience it is immeasurable, and it must be stopped. What we are — and are not — doing now obviously isn’t working.
Because of this, I know it’s been a long time since I supported the Second Amendment. “The right of the people to keep and bear arms” sounds a lot like a big screw you to people who have or have worried about losing someone to gun violence.
I know every time I watch an interview with a politician who says “no one wants to abolish the Second Amendment,” I want to yell “why?” because I cannot imagine defending something that causes this much damage and pain. I know that at this point I just can’t imagine anything less than the removal of all guns from our society. No argument to keep them around can outweigh the cost of children not feeling safe in schools and the 39,000 lost every year.
I know prohibiting the sale of any desirable product is not usually the answer to any issues it comes with. I am far too aware of the loopholes people abuse or laws they ignore to get what they want, so I know this is not a perfect solution. But I also know the awful feeling I get in the pit of my stomach every time I see headlines about yet another shooting, and I can’t help but want to get rid of that feeling forever.
It’s been given a long and fair chance, but it’s clear we’ve failed at keeping gun ownership safe. It’s clear our strategies for gun control have not been strong enough. Gun ownership should be a privilege, not a right. It’s time to reconsider the Second Amendment.