The process of choosing quarter topics goes a little like this: during a team meeting, the entirety of the WriteCause team (or as close to that as possible) discusses and offers potential topics for the next quarter. After a couple hours of deliberation spread over a few meetings, the final decision is made through a blind vote, and in our smaller groups we start breaking up work. We release the prompt about ninety days later, and turn things over to the WriteCause audience.
But, for the first time, our information trends in the direction that people are confused by the prompt or unsure how to start writing. This all makes a lot of sense for many reasons, and we’re dedicating this blog to breaking down the prompt and how to start writing for this quarter.
The prompt itself can seem daunting; most of our topics feel emotionally accessible. We feel we can pull a moment from our lives that relates (I personally think of the metal straw era of 2019 for the environment quarter). Being someone that grew up alongside the rising prevalence of mass (and especially school) shootings, guns and gun control are things I feel sensitive towards. I have plenty of thoughts on what I think the role of guns should be in American society, but the more I learn, the more my opinions shift in response to what I learn. How, then, can I feel confident in what I write about this topic? Besides, who am I to assume I can write about this, when I have not been directly affected by gun control?
It is true that I’ve never known someone or been involved in a shooting, I don’t own a gun and I don’t ever intend to, and I have complex thoughts on both the legislation that exists and the legislation I want to see exist regarding guns.
But, being a sixteen-year-old growing up in America, the shockwaves of the effect of (a lack of) gun control affects my life pretty much wherever I go. There is a stark difference in my memory of lockdown drills in my first few years of elementary school compared to those after the Sandy Hook shooting. Where teachers and students alike were somewhat dismissive, adults sat tensely shushing us, eyeing the doors and windows and as we’ve grown older, students too are more prone to anxiety and fear. In most places, fear comes easily at loud popping noises, or an unexpected evacuation of trains or rooms.
I passed a group of half a dozen police officers wrestling with someone the other day, shouting, and a tide of emotions and thoughts came over me. I knew all six officers were carrying weapons, and the seventh person wasn’t visibly armed but was waving something at an officer. Being in a place where I couldn’t cross the street, I simply grabbed my friend's hand and we walked quickly by. Growing up mixed, I’ve been conditioned to avoid engaging police officers, as the rise in violence committed by armed civilians is minimal compared to the rise in violence committed by police officers. I was also in an area that I’m not in often, so I’m unfamiliar with the nature of crime most often committed (and what type of behavior would draw six officers). And as a result of this rise in shootings, myself and most people I know are jumpy when there are loud noises in a high-stress situation. And some of these things aren’t inherently attributed to the societal reaction to gun violence, but much of it is.
Beyond situations with armed officers, which is complex in and of itself, I’ve also noticed myself being more hypervigilant of strangers depending on where I am. On a hiking trip in southern Virginia, we heard some night hikers stopping to fill up water and yelling, but couldn’t see them in the fog. It’s not entirely uncommon for hikers to carry guns, especially in bear country, which we were near. This fact, combined with the surprise of hearing men shouting at ten at night freaked everyone out. People in sleeping bags rushed to turn off lights and stay as quiet as possible; the adults leading the trip mobilized in a flash to see who was making the ruckus and then if they could possibly fill up water somewhere farther away from the site (they did, begrudgingly, and not without shouting their complaints). The few people who were away from the group had frozen at the shouting, and in low visibility from the fog, had huddled off-trail with lights scanning the path until we retrieved them. Recalling it all, it feels absurd describing it honestly, even in the moment we tried to play it off with awkward jokes. But it stands clear to me that we have all been affected by gun control and gun violence, even if not directly. Rather than finding it incredibly amusing that these young men were shouting at each other and trying to hike seven miles in the dark and fog, we instead huddled together and one of us kept watch with a flashlight.
So, yes, I’ve never been directly affected by gun violence, but it’s heartbreaking that not just me, but a considerable amount of other people reacted to loud strangers in a rural area in a fearful way. Beyond this event, trust in strangers is something that has been consistently disappearing. In contrast, the expectation of unknown people to be hostile or even violent is something I’ve seen a lot lately. Since drafting this prompt, I’ve been noticing a lot of other small behaviors or actions related to our sense of safety. And in talking to other people about it, I’m not alone in those reactions and behaviors.
So, if you aren’t sure how to start writing for this quarter, start here. What are aspects of your life or behavior that stem from fear or reaction to a lack of gun control? Would you even agree that there is a common lack of gun control in America? Where would you like to see change? As always, we love to hear your thoughts. Drop an example of a fearful reaction in a comment!
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