Showing posts with label sing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sing. Show all posts

Friday, April 19, 2013

The Least We Can Do

On December 14, 2012 the company I work for hosted the few thousand of us that work in the corporate headquarters for a massive and extravagant Christmas party. Unlimited beer, wine, and other drinks. Never-ending trays of yummy foods all over our massive cafeteria. A DJ that spun one hit after another, under elaborate winter decorations and a light show.

On December 14, 2012 a man attacked a kindergarten in Sandy Hook, CT in the United States, my homeland, and massacred twenty children and six adult staff members. I wrote about my initial reaction here.

I learned about the massacre over my smartphone while at that extravagant Christmas party. I dealt with my shock and my overwhelming empathy the only way I knew how at that moment: I put down the wine and started dancing. I danced so hard and for so long that I bruised all of toenails. I still carry those bruises with me on both of my big toes.

As the days turned into weeks and then into months, I couldn't sleep, and then I could. I couldn't stop crying when I picked up PJ from his day care, and then I could. I couldn't stop watching the news, and then I could. I couldn't stop imagining what those poor parents are going through and, you know what, I still can't. I couldn't believe that my culture could accept the ongoing massacre of citizens - even the shocking massacre of 20 children inside their locked school - as the "price of freedom", and I still can't. I couldn't stop feeling helpless, and then I could.

First I got more informed. I learned about the statistics available about violence in the US. I learned that there are a lot of stats available regarding car accidents as well as violent deaths of just about everything but not gun-related violent deaths. The stats aren't there because the American government voted to make that type of research illegal. So Slate started to collect the data. Turns out that over 3,500 people have died a gun-related death since the Sandy Hook massacre.

I learned about how people can buy guns, sell guns, collect guns in the United States. I learned about how mental health services are available or not in various parts of the country. I learned about how bullying is addressed or not in various parts of the country. I learned about how sex is blocked on almost all TV channels but not scenes of violence. I followed survey data. I watched and read various organizations and people speak about the problem of violence in the US and their suggestions for solving the problem.

Then I got involved. I wrote Facebook posts, tweets. I emailed and left voice mail messages for my representatives, senators, and state government officials. I joined an organization called Moms Demand Action For Gun Sense in America. I believed that together we would find reasonable solutions that respect our culture, our freedoms, our legal foundations, and our future. It looked like my belief was founded.

Then the Senate voted for the first time on a bill to standardised the background checks required for buying a gun. It was an easy vote for all of the Senate members because across all states, the vast majority of voters support the need to standardised the background checks.

Yet, the bill failed. The bill that the vast majority of voters - these Senators bosses - support failed. It failed because these Senators voted not to represent their voters but their paychecks from a very powerful and very wealthy lobby organization called the National Rifle Association. It was a set back towards a reasonable solution.

But I still believe. I believe that together we will find reasonable solutions that respect our culture, our freedoms, our legal foundations, and our future. Solutions that also respect those 20 children that will never turn 8 years old; that will never be held by their parents again; that will never laugh or learn or cry or grow again.

We can find and create those solutions together. But we have to continue the conversations, the discussions, the debates. We have to continue speaking out, acting out. We have to remain on the right side of history.

This is one chapter. One chapter in a long book that we are writing together. I hope you will join me in writing each chapter of this book. Because this little man - like all of our children all over the world and their parents - deserve at least that from us.

 

At least.





xo

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Because I Can

I just sat with my little boy and nursed him to sleep. Then I held him. Sang to him. Whispered my hopes and my dreams for him into his tiny ear. Things like, "I hope you know your dreams and have the strength to follow them.", "I hope you always know and give love.", and "I hope I am here to share this wonderful adventure of life with you for a very long time."

And now, "I hope that you always enjoy safety at school."

Or more clearly said, "I hope I never send you to school and instead of learning or building friendships or making gingerbread houses, you are shot and killed."

And, "I hope I never send you to school and you watch your best friend die."

This is not about gun control. This is not about universal health care services and availability. This is not about stopping the gap as it widens between those that Have and those that Have Not. This is not about getting to know the people we live next to. This is not about limiting video games and movies that are violent just to be violent.

This is about massacre prevention. This is about the too-many-to-count people who have died in vain, in places like schools, movie theaters, restuarants, malls, places of worship across the United States of America. This is about not allowing these children to have died in vain. Look at those ages.

Daniel Barden, 7
Olivia Engel, 6
Josephine Gay, 7
Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 6
Dylan Hockley, 6
Madeleine F. Hsu, 6
Catherine V. Hubbard, 6
Chase Kowalski, 7
Jesse Lewis, 6
James Mattioli, 6
Grace McDonnell, 7
Emilie Parker, 6
Jack Pinto, 6
Noah Pozner, 6
Caroline Previdi, 6
Jessica Rekos, 6
Avielle Richman, 6
Benjamin Wheeler, 6
Allison N. Wyatt, 6
Mary Sherlach, 56
Victoria Soto, 27
Anne Marie Murphy, 52
Lauren Rousseau, 30
Dawn Hochsprung, 47
Rachel Davino, 29
 
Look at those ages. Twice.
 
And before you continue reading, take a moment and look at their faces. Look at their faces. 

Those children should be getting rocked by their parents.They should be getting held. They should be getting sang to. They should be listening to hopes and dreams as they enter their little ears.
 

And their parents. Their parents should be rocking their children. Holding their children. Singing to their children. Whispering their hopes and dreams into their childrens' little ears.

But they aren't. And they never will. Ever again.

That is not just 'not okay', that is wrong. It is time to have an open discourse about what is obviously, fundamentally wrong with modern American society. It is time to grieve, to pray, and to change.

Before I laid PJ down onto his bed, I closed my eyes and I prayed. I prayed for those children that will never be rocked, held, sang or whispered to ever again. I prayed for those parents that will never rock, hold, sing, or whisper to their children again. I prayed for the teachers. Those heros.

And then I prayed for real change. Like child abuse, this is a mountain I am willing to bleed on, die on. Because I'm tired of watching my society pretend what is going on isn't more than a series of 'mental ill' individuals doing something that is 'not okay'.


xo
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