Skip to main content

The Bubble Thought

Earlier this week, my sister-in-law posted one of her drawings on Facebook. The drawing depicted an image of a mother hugging her child before the child gets on the bus for the first day of the school year. As the mother hugs her child, there’s a thought bubble above her with an image of a gun. To accompany the drawing, my sister-in-law shared that this was her thought, which popped into her mind as her own child departed for school to begin a new academic year.

I have no doubt that her post will be shared time again by parents around this country as we all send our children off to school to be educated. In addition to the normal fear that a parent has for their school-age school, like their academic achievement, development of meaningful friendships, and overall happiness and health, now parents have to worry about their safety while in school.

We presently live in a climate where schools are hiring guardians who are retired police officers and members of the military whose sole purpose is to stop a shooter. There are products on the market that schools can buy so that children have a bulletproof shield should a shooter open fire in their school. Schools are training kids on what to do during a lock down and how to stop bleeding if someone is shot.

The image that my sister-in-law created and shared with her community resonated with me so deeply as I’m sure it did with many others. Not only am I fearful for the safety of my children when they go to school but I fear for their safety in general. Just a few weeks ago, I took the girls to a matinee while on vacation. We got settled into the theater with our drinks and our popcorn, choosing the perfect seats for movie viewing and general enjoyment. As they munched their goodies and slurped their drinks, I looked around hesitantly at the other people in the theater and made sure to locate the nearest exits. Then, I made a plan for what I would do if a shooter entered the theater. I thought about how I would push Charlotte underneath the seat and lay my body over top of hers. I worried about Caroline because now she and I are the same size and I wondered how I would be able to protect her. Last week, I mentioned this thought to another mom friend who quickly had an answer for me: that I would put Charlotte on the ground and Caroline on top of her and then me on top of both of them. She shared this advice with me without hesitation because I know she has thought about it, too. I know that shootings have been going on for decades and I know that the media sensationalizes and breeds fear. But I also know that shootings are occurring more and more and that these deaths are not fake news. And I know that there are varying opinions about how we can prevent the mass shootings that instill fear in us when we go to the grocery store or the mall or the movies or a concert or when we blow kisses to our children when they get on the school bus every morning. I know that I’m no longer able to hold the door open for anyone at a daycare center or school because, I may think they are my neighbor or community member, but the person could also be armed with a gun with the intent to kill. It’s crazy that I have to think about that while I’m dropping off my kid’s lunch that she forgot but this is our reality.

We all want to shield our children from the fear of guns but how can we when we are buying them backpacks that can also be shields if they are being shot at in their classrooms? How can we when they have active shooter drills or they hear about a shooting at a nearby school or, our worst fear, it happens at their own school?

How did we get here?

We are all asking ourselves this question and we are asking, what is the solution? Is there a one size fits all solution? Is the only control we have is to establish the motto, "better safe than sorry"? What does it even mean to, "be safe"? Carry a gun of your own? Arm schools with guards? Know what to do if you are faced with an active shooter situation? Walk the other way when you see a white kid with a black trench coat? See something and say something? How do we even know what we are seeing and how to trust that what we are seeing is dangerous and not our own biases or fears? Or, conversely, how can we do a better job of seeing things when we spend our lives rushing around from one obligation to another, with our faces staring into a screen half of the time? Hindsight is 20/20 and we have to know what we are even looking for- signs of mental illness, isolation, a history of domestic abuse, or an obsession with violence and weapons.

I just want to see the good in everyone so it's been hard for me to accept that there is even a mentality, a pattern of behavior, and a profile of a mass shooter. Children are guides in reminding adults to see the good in others so the idea of someone coming into their school and trying to kill them and their peers is unfathomable. Or, at least it used to be.

Yes, life is short and precious and we should hug our kids tighter and forgive more and live each day to the fullest. But, these mass school shootings and shootings in malls, movie theaters, and our places of worship is bullshit and it has to stop. It's time for us to do more than hug each other and pray so that we can stop thinking about semi-automatic weapons when we put our kids on the bus every morning.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

When The Team Won't Follow the Leader

I am aware that there are some critics out there who think that Andy and I are kind of loosey-goosey parents. Some think we don’t have enough rules or enough structure or discipline in our family. I’ve always felt really bad about this because, from one perspective, I can sort of see what they are talking about. Not a day goes by that I don’t feel guilty about being a shitty parent. My thoughts before passing out each night, exhausted, are about how I could’ve done a better job today and that I really hope I can do a better job the next day. Tomorrow is a new day to make rules and implement them, right? But I finally figured out what the missing link is for me and Andy and why we just can’t be the structured, rigid, disciplinarians that we “aspire“ to be. The other day I was picking up the kids. When we were driving home, my mind was racing with about 50 different things I needed to do at home and at work. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really present in the moment with the kids even thoug...

An Open "PM" to Polly

Hey Polly, it’s me- Melissa. Can I call you Polly? Because I feel like I know you. Do I know you? We’ve been in the same social media circles for many months now. I see from your profile that you went to Cornell. I have a lot of friends that graduated from there. It’s an awesome school. What year did you graduate? I also see that you’re self-employed. I really respect entrepreneurs, particularly female entrepreneurs. What’s your business? Are you a photographer because your Facebook profile picture of Doubleday Field is fantastic. I see that you don’t have any Facebook friends, Polly. I understand that. Are you lonely? It can be really lonely around here. Listen Polly, this election got really nasty but at the end of the day are all neighbors right? Do you want to meet, do you want to talk about it? Haven’t seen you on social media since the election. I totally get where you’re coming from, Polly. It’s been hard for me, too. When you put yourself out there with really strong opinio...

Charlotte's Story

What can you do in seventeen minutes? Watch an episode of your favorite sitcom without commercials? Run two miles at a good clip? Eat a meal, or in Andy's case, microwave a meal and then eat it? Have a baby? Because that's what I did. You heard me right. I birthed a baby in seventeen minutes because I am a machine. I am a machine ! I am a baby birthing woman of steel. I am not much of a bragger and you may recall that I was never good and never bad at anything. I have no particular achievements to tout, academically, physically, professionally or otherwise except baby birthing. I'm really good at this and I'm pretty darn proud of it and I'd like to brag about it to you now. This is Charlotte's birth story. For the first four or five months of my pregnancy with Charlotte, most people forgot that I was even pregnant. This does happen to you with multiple pregnancies. I never forgot that I was pregnant. Morning sickness heart burn and frequent bathroom t...