A few weeks ago I wrote about how women’s experiences are being pushed aside and co-opted for the purpose of supporting a particular political ideology (See “You Don’t Feel That Way: Minimizing Women’s Experiences”). At the time, I had an inkling that this was not restricted to women’s experiences, but I couldn’t think of a compelling universal example.
Now I’ve got one.
The shooting in Tucson this weekend has been used both as a reason for more gun control (Loughner should never have been allowed to own a gun in the first place) and as a reason for less (had more people in the crowd at Safeway that day had concealed weapons, the tragedy would have been averted).
For a while, I participated in the debate, pointing out logical flaws in the arguments on both sides. But today I recognized this back-and-forth for what it is: ignoring the experiences and emotions of those going through the tragedy, including our own emotions, for the sake of supporting a cause.
I’ve decided that I will be more aware from now on. From this moment on, I will reflect before I respond, and if the discussion is simply for the purpose of furthering some political cause, I will either refuse to participate or call it out as such (the first is probably the better option, but sometimes I have trouble saying nothing in these situations).
This is a time to sit with our grief. It’s a time to think about the people involved both directly and indirectly: those who were shot, those who were killed, those who witnessed the shooting. Those who live in Tucson and are now trying to put into perspective this event that occurred in their home town. Those of us in the rest of the country who don’t know the victims or the perpetrator personally but for whom the world looks somehow different now than it did last Friday. And yes, even the disturbed young man who brought the gun to the Safeway that day and his parents who are trying to figure out how they got to this point.
The challenge is to just let it hurt without trying to escape it, without trying to distract ourselves with anger and blame, which are much less scary emotions.
We don’t need to make sense of this tragedy. There’s no sense to be made of it. The best we can do is vow to be good to each other, gentle with each other, and gentle and good to ourselves.
Imperfect Happiness 