Words don’t come.

A lot has been happening for me and finding time to write is a challenge. Beyond this, sometimes, words don’t come or I have too many and no clear direction in my thoughts. Then, there are times like this one today, when I have words but I don’t like them. More children have died in a school shooting. They could have been mine, just as all the children before them could have been. Do I teach my children to run away? How to hide? How to know when a door is locked? How to trick an intruder? Do I teach them to be prepared for someone to kill them with a gun? Many people feel that I should, that giving them as much information as possible is how I protect them. In many instances, I agree with this. Regarding gun violence in their school, I do not. I’d rather teach them that the adults in their lives, the adults who govern and alter the laws that change their schools, are capable of using their authority to protect them, yet continue to fail them. If someone does enter our local elementary school with a firearm, there is little I can do to protect my children at that point. There is much that those in power can do to prevent an assault rifle from making it that far. They are choosing not to make those changes. They are choosing to offer thoughts and prayers, yet again. They are choosing to bow to money and power, yet again. I will not teach my children that they are somehow responsible for not being shot while they’re sharpening a pencil, reading a book, grabbing a milk in the lunch line. I will teach them to expect to be valued and protected, to surround themselves with people who honor who they are and to allow themselves to feel disappointed when those with power to keep them safe refuse to do so.

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