I was a freshman in High School when the tragedy at Columbine occurred. I remember the locked doors of the school, silently staring at my desk listening intently to the radio with my classmates. The hollow feeling, those kids were my age, my peers, and not even that far away. I remember track practice that day. The inappropriate gun jokes seemingly all of us were telling. Making fun of the school for locking us down, boasting about how not-scared we were, and mocking the school for being so overprotective. We were all scared, we knew it, not one of us escaped the uneasy feeling of really facing our own mortality for perhaps the first time. I remember the quiet but short car ride after practice, as always I got a ride from my dad. "How are you doing Nathan?" he asked solemnly. "Fine Dad" I lied a little, then smiled. He knew better "Please, if you need to talk about it don't hesitate. I'm here for you, so is your mom." "I know." I replied. We never really did talk about what happened that day, but knowing my parents were there for me was enough, knowing my sister was safe at home was enough. My selfish teenage brain was a blessing, keeping me from realizing the full magnitude of the events of that day.
After that day, the media storm was in full force. Politicians began pounding their fists, some screaming for rigid gun control, others declaring the tragedy would have been avoided by an armed public. It was sickening. 15 kids, 15 of my peers were dead, the blood in the library barely dry. Thousands stood in candlelight vigils, and for some reason in the midst of the tears shed by a shattered community, divisive politics were on the lips of those we are supposed to look to for guidance. All that ignorance has only been amplified by social media Twitter, Facebook.
Today, for the first time in my life I wept because of the words I heard on a news broadcast. Unwrapped toys sit at the feet of twenty Christmas trees, toys that were meant to bring happiness now only bring tears. Twenty bedrooms sit empty, sheets still out of place from the morning wake up routine. Parents will step on lost Lego's buried in the carpet, and instead of a flash of anger, will feel the terrible pains of an unfathomable loss. Laughter in homes, evening baths, family dinners, have all been replaced with silence, grief, and sorrow. Not to mention the loss of the light of six people that dedicated their lives to children.
This is a time to mourn loss, to reflect, to grieve. To pray for the families, and to hug yours a little tighter. This is not a time for politics, for political gain, and positioning.This is not a time for divisive language, or actions. So before you get on your soap box, please stop, think, and don't... just don't.
