For the sake of love and for each other

From D.W.: On April 28th, 1996 in Port Arthur, Australia, a man named Martin Bryant killed two people who bought a property that he thought should have gone to his father. By the end of the day, 35 people were killed and 23 others were wounded by Martin and his two semi-automatic rifles.

In the days that followed, the Australian government enacted large and sweeping gun reforms across the country, which dramatically decreased the number and deadliness of mass gun deaths in that country. In the nearly two decades since, Australia has seen fewer than 30 mass shooting incidents.* Last night, as you have no doubt seen, was the largest mass shooting in Australia since Port Arthur when two gunmen killed 12 people and injured 29 more during a Hanukkah event in Bondi Beach.

Also yesterday, in our country, an as-of-the-time-of-this-writing unidentified man opened fire in a classroom at Brown University leaving two dead (so far) and 19 injured. It was the deadliest shooting in America since... three days ago. And it was the 397th mass shooting in America this year.

I bring these incidents up together not just because of their chronological closeness, but because I would bet my back teeth that, in the very near future, in response to this incident, Australia actually does something about it, while we, for reasons I fail to comprehend, just won't.

Both incidents were a tragedy, but only one was an aberration.

*defined by having 4 or more victims (combined deaths and injuries)

But enough of me. Here's Rachel's thoughts:

Facebook. April 19. 2023

Say it with me, fam:  

There is no material object—not in your house, not in your car, not in your pocket, not even in your chosen house of worship that makes killing an actual flesh and blood human child of God standing your ground. People matter more than things. Every single person is worth more than any material object. Yes, even those people. And those, too. All of them. And also you.  

Not one single object. Not the tv or the stereo. Not the jewelry or the fancy stuff or the heirlooms. Not cash money or eggs or butter. Not a single bit of any of our stuff is worth a human life.

Facebook. May 2th. 2022

Prayer in action can look like:

1. Lamenting and wailing and swearing and crying with your beloveds
2. Donating blood
3. Donating money
4. GETTING POLITICAL
5. Calling every person who represents you on a local, state, and federal level
6. Campaigning hard for candidates who care about legislating for responsible gun control measures
7. Educating yourself with facts, not feelings, about our history of gun violence

Facebook. October 27th. 2018

Every damn time, we have a chance to make it the last time. But we don’t. Because me mine I I I is just so much more important than we, us, community. And it makes me sick. It grieves my heart. The way we allow Hate to prowl around us, to go unchecked, to be foolish enough to believe we can reason with it...let me be explicit: This Shit Has To Stop.  

We can’t share the best things about ourselves, the deepest true things until we all understand that each person has a right to their personhood, whether we understand or agree with how they express it. None of us have the right to be a butthole. If and until we can come to these understandings and have the strength of character to put aside situational ethics that make us feel good or righteous or better than the next human person, and make our peace with the discomfort this reality will inevitably bring—because telling the truth is uncomfortable work—we’ll just keep killing each other and being awful.  

This shit has to stop.  

Jewish family and Jewish friends—my heart is grieving with you today. I am so sorry. 

Friends and family, at whatever intersection you live—I love and celebrate you. You matter to me. You are the face of God to me, and I will sit by you, stand by you, love you, and cherish you in every way I can, all day every day.  

Love,  

Rachie 

Facebook. September 15th. 2023

Ok, so this is gonna be spicy. Some of you will want to skip this. And it may also really grind your gears. But please, stick with me. I know it’s something we’d rather not deal with, for several reasons. But here’s the tea: We have too damn many guns in the US. We have the capacity to better regulate this but lack the will.  

Meanwhile, we are just walking around hoping to Jesus or the Higher Power of our choice that we don’t end up in a body bag or on the damn news because some other child of God got their hands on a lethal weapon and used it as such. This has to stop. And there are about a thousand different ways to do it.  

I grew up around guns. I understand gun culture. I have had firearm safety training and was raised by people who took that deadly seriously. I learned that a gun can only do one thing—kill. Sure, other tools can be used as weapons—knives, rocks, a car, a cast iron skillet, a knitting needle, a hypodermic needle, rope, the list goes on—but a gun only has one job.  

And if you point a gun at something, you better be prepared for whatever is on the business end to be dead when you are done. Do y’all get that? Or have we blown our minds so far out of our heads with theory and virtual reality and pedantic devotion to founders who couldn’t possibly have understood the evolutions of weaponry we currently deal with or the sheer number of people who exist in this republic that we just have lost the plot entirely? 

This morning, one of my soul friends got the text from her educator husband no one ever wants to get. “Another lockdown. Not a drill. Love you.” The lockdown turned out to be a response to a social media hoax. But that didn’t matter at the time. Everyone in that school and everyone who received a text from them during that time truly believed they might die today. Do you remember what school was like—how hard it was on a regular day? Think back and imagine how hard so many of our teachers and staff worked for us, put up with our shit, navigated admin and parents and helping to raise us. They don’t get combat pay. They are just regular people doing their jobs. Should those of us not engaged in first response or military vocations just go ahead and assume we’re gonna get shot at every time we leave the house? That takes a toll on us. It does not improve the situation or encourage us to learn to love each other.  

This last weekend, I took one of my godbabies to see their first club show. It was daytime and a super tame crowd. But I reinforced with them multiple times that we needed to make sure we knew where all the exits were, including the one closest to us. I hovered just behind them the whole 90 minutes, ready to yank the collar of their shirt and run, checking our six every 45 seconds until we were back safe in the parking lot. They had the time of their young life. I was so wrecked from hyper vigilance that Aunt Crazy had to take a three-hour coma nap when she got home. That is the world we live in, and it does not have to be this way.  

I don’t have any magic theories on how to fix this. But I do know that if thoughts and prayers don’t lead us into deeper conversations and concrete actions, we are probably doing it wrong. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to engage in what-if’s or what-abouts. I just want us to stop and actually examine what is going on, admit that this is not a healthy situation for any of us, and find as many ways as possible for us to get better, do better, and be better together. We have got to do better, for the sake of love and for each other.  

This week was very weird. I’m sending oceans of love and peace your way, my darlings. Hang in there.  

Love,  

Rachie