On the weekend a troubled (I am guessing, it is unclear but surely one has to be troubled to do this kind of thing) young man walked into a school, and killed people. Not just one person, but more than 20 people. The majority of them kids aged six and seven years old. Bear's age. His friends age.
Like many parents I guess, hearing the news tore at my heart and made me hug my darling boys all the closer. But as I've listened to the news and read the online commentary I've become increasingly frustrated.
I'm sorry America but I just don't get it. I don't get how owning a gun can be more important that public safety. I don't understand why the average person should be able to buy a gun and ammunition at the supermarket. I don't understand why semi-automatic weapons should be kept at home.
I don't get how America can claim to be the greatest country on the planet and almost routinely be "rocked" by this sort of travesty. Platitudes, words of sorrow, candlelight vigils are insufficient responses to the death of 20 children. Rage, anger, action of some kind whether it be lobbying government or taking the fight - dare I say it - to those who think gun ownership is a fundamental right. That would be more appropriate.
And coupled with that, surely, a serious look at why social services in America keep failing those families and individuals dealing with mental illness. Surely universal health care - if it could help prevent more people falling through the net and not getting the treatment and support they need - is worth it. Surely the loss of 27 more lives is too high a price to pay comparative to the costs of universal health care.
Something terrible happened in America on the weekend. As I hold tightly to my boys before sending them to school I am grateful that such a terrible thing is almost unthinkable here.
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