“How dare one politicize a tragedy like this!”
“Now is not the time.”
“One can’t even wait until the bodies are in the ground!”
These sentiments, once again, echoed from staunch proponents of gun rights today, and I expected no less.
What I yearn for, in all honesty, is the chance for normal grieving. The option to give each of those beautiful souls the personal attention they deserve. I wish I could delve into the minutiae of their lives: their passions, favorite haunts, cherished movies, and dreams for the future. I want to know the pictures that adorned their bedroom walls, the names of their pets and secret crushes, the peculiarities only close friends and family comprehend.
I long to converse with their parents, best friends, and favorite uncles, to vividly portray each vibrant life and properly eulogize them. A pause, a moment to let the world catch its breath from the profoundly breathtaking.
Yet, herein lies the predicament: time is a luxury we cannot afford.
There’s no time to “wait until the bodies are in the ground” because, by then, more shootings will have occurred. Death has become a chilling routine here. By the time we mourn one tragedy, more will unfold, students, shoppers, churchgoers, movie buffs, music enthusiasts, tourists. More hallways echoing with gunfire, more harrowing phone videos captured by students in classrooms turned into war zones, more Breaking News of active shooters, more frantic texts from parents unanswered.
By the time we’ve laid to rest the children claimed by today’s horror, more will join the ranks of the deceased. And on that dreadful day, just like today, you will reiterate, “This isn’t the time.” You’ll chastise for insensitivity, feign offense, and accuse of politicizing tragedy. You’ll pretend to care about the memories of these young lives, the pain of their families, and the fact that someone’s children once again huddled in fear in cafeterias and classrooms. All while insisting it’s too soon to address the underlying issues.
During this period of silence you prescribe, millions will flow from the NRA to politicians entrusted with protecting these children, children who will die. In that time, gun advocates will craft false narratives, blaming the carnage on Muslims, immigrants, or liberals, anywhere but where it belongs. In the silent waiting, people will purchase assault weapons, planning the next atrocity, while those who profit from guns attempt to cleanse the blood from their hands.
By the time we genuinely grieve and mourn these fallen children, they will be forgotten. The news cycle will move on, nightmares replaced by new instances of terror. And in this interim, you will have forgotten. But the wounds won’t have healed; more will have been inflicted. And you’ll be there once again, saying, “This isn’t the time.” To hell with that. This is the time.
This is the time because this isn’t normal. Kids aren’t supposed to die in school. This is the time because we have a gun problem. This is the time because half our government is entwined with the gun industry.
Yes, we agree. These children deserve proper eulogies. They deserve to be remembered. They deserved to live. And the children who will die tomorrow deserve to live too.
I care about them enough not to wait. I will not wait until they are no longer radiant young lives, but bodies awaiting the ground. For them, now is the damn time.
Here are some organizations working towards making this country safer:
