Gun Violence, Grief, and Rage in America
Mall of Louisiana shooting victim identified as high school senior: 'A joyful presence' (The Advocate)
Suspect dead after 8 children killed, 2 women wounded in Louisiana shooting (NBC)
Former police officer arrested for allegedly planning mass shooting at New Orleans festival (CNN)
Prior to the latest assassination attempt upon the president (last night), these were just some of the local headlines for last week. I don’t live in Louisiana anymore, but it’s where I was born, raised, and spent most of my adult life. It will always be my home, and when home is such a dangerous place, it hurts. This is too much to hold, too much to bear.
A few days ago, when I got a message from a college friend asking for my phone number, I braced myself. This is almost never good, when someone decides a message is not an appropriate format to deliver information. A teenager, the daughter of one of our mutual friends, had been caught in a crossfire of bullets at the mall, and killed. A few days prior to this, I had posted a message on my friend’s social media page in response to the lovely photos celebrating her daughter’s upcoming high school graduation and college selection. I have few words right now, but a bottomless grief for my friend, and a deep sorrow for the society America has become.
Sitting with all of this is so, so difficult, and yet I must. We must. The rage that I feel for our government that supports gun culture, and for all of those who have decided human life matters less than gun “rights,” is overwhelming. We have been here before, though, haven’t we? It’s cyclical. Something horrific happens, people react, people try to affect change, it fails, and people return to apathy and helplessness. It’s not because no one cares, it’s because there seems to be no way out of a situation where people are pitted against powerful organizations with more resources and influence than them. And meanwhile, people continue being killed in situations that are supposed to be normal and safe. Living in this kind of state, both logistically and emotionally, is traumatic.
As a therapist, I’m supposed to have some helpful commentary, or some words of wisdom to share. I don’t. What am I going to do with myself today, to make this grief and rage tolerable? I don’t entirely know, but writing about it externalizes some small portion of it. What I do with the rest remains unknown, but I will try to insert some moments of diversion into the moments of feeling and sitting with things we shouldn’t have to sit with. R.I.P. Martha, I’m so sorry that our society failed you.