Sooo. I thought I was done until after Christmas, but then CT happened and now this morning my kids’ school went on lock-down and I just have a bad case of swirling brain. That’s what I call it, I think the technical term is “racing thoughts” and all of us bi-polar people get them I guess. All I know is there is more STUFF in my head than fits, and it makes me rather surly, so I’m going to try to get it out in an orderly fashion.
First of all, I wasn’t going to talk about the Newtown shootings. I just wasn’t. I have a daughter in 2nd grade and she truly is a miracle baby and I just can’t even wrap my head around someone doing that to her. SO I won’t. I know that’s kind of Scarlett O’Hara thinking, but I just will not think about it if I can help it.
I will however argue til I’m blue in the face about the fact that we need tougher gun control laws. I think that as our country has become more owned by special interest lobbies regulation of everything protecting the average person has casually–in the name of freedom, no less–gone by the wayside. And the NRA is unfortunately the biggest of the special interest groups. They spend BILLIONS of dollars every year scaring people into believing that there is an imminent, Nazi-style, government take-over and that owning a gun will save them from such a fate; their dues and donations foster racial unrest by convincing white America that every brown and black person has an illegally obtained firearm so they must own 10 legally obtained firearms “for protection”. And are we safer? No. Because gun violence occurs in homes, between people who know each other. Because children think guns are like on TV and video games and raid their parents’ arsenals’ and take them to school and to the park and to their rooms. And does the NRA care that accidents happen? That suicides happen? That Newtown happened? Not really. Do I think that there will actually be a change in gun laws? Not really. But I firmly believe that there should be.
Which leads me to my morning. So shortly after my kids got to school we got School Reach messages (robocalls from our kids’ school). The first one was from the high school where my son is: It said that they were on administrative lockdown because of “Facebook posts and a suspicious person”. The next one was from my daughter’s elementary school saying they were also on administrative lockdown. These calls, in an attempt to be reassuring I guess, said not to call the school or to come get your child because everything was fine. Seriously????? Who would possibly believe that???? About 45 minutes later we got a call from elementary school saying lockdown was over, still don’t call or pick up our children. Fifteen minutes after that, similar from the HS with emphasis on Aberdeen Police Department having been at the school. If you knew anything about our police department (officer fired in January for hitting a house with his police car!) you would not find that very reassuring. And they said they were just going to continue as normal. GRRRRR. Seriously, no one was doing much today. just do an early release. This is a town FULL of guns. Literally bursting at the seams with them. Everyone hunts, and dead everything with fur is worth money even if you can’t eat it. The trap shooting scores are in the paper next to the bowling and softball scores. GUNS are everywhere. And every kid has an arsenal they can raid (its scarier when you call it an arsenal, which is what it is!) so if you know a kid wants to go down in flames and take the school with him, AND its the day before Christmas break, fucking call the day. I know you’re worried about future snow days, but have some priorities!
ANYWAY. I realize I’m running long, and not making a ton of sense (although I feel MUCH better, thanks) but I do need to say a word about mental health. Actually I need to say this: I do not use racial slurs, or the R word. I do not use crass names for people of other sexual orientations. I would like the same courtesy extended to myself please. You do not get to call me crazy, or nuts, or a nutjob, or a whack job, or whacko, or bonkers, or insane (unless you’re my lawyer) or disturbed, or a freakazoid, or a weirdo, or anything else that pops into your mind. I might call myself any number of those things because I am actually mentally ill, and when I do it its self-deprecating humor. When you do it, its rude.