Estimates of the number of people who jammed their way
into space in front of the Capitol building in Washington, D.C. for Saturday's
March for Our Lives range from as little to just over 200,000 people to over 1
million.
Organizers expected about half
a million people, and anything over that figure would easily make the day a
smashing success. Detractors might use the lowball estimate to argue that the
rally was a failure.
The debate about numbers misses
the point. From the perspective of someone who was there in the crowd, it sure
looked like a lot of people. A lot of people both young and old, a lot of
students, a lot of parents, a lot of teachers, a lot of people whose lives have
been affected by gun violence.
I'm neither young, nor old. I
have no children, and my life has not been directly affected by gun violence as
of the time I write this.
Yet, I was there. Even with a
bad leg that's still recovering from a fall, I was there. Even though I didn't
lose anyone I know or love to a mass shooting, I was there. Even though I'm
single and I have no children, I was there.
I was there because I grieved
when Adam Lanza killed 20 children and six staff members at Sandy Hook
Elementary School in December 2012. I literally had to log off my phone with
tears in my eyes and walk off the floor because I imagined being a parent and
learning that my child didn't make it.
I was there because one of the
very first Facebook profile photos I used shows a Maryland Terrapin and the
Virginia Tech logo over the saying, "Today, we are all Hokies."
I was there because I'm tired
of the fiction the National Rifle Association continues to peddle. The fiction
that gun violence is something we can do nothing about and the right to own a
gun outweighs anyone's life. As a reminder, the right of "a well-regulated
militia" to responsibly own guns is part of the Second Amendment. The
rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness were American ideals
before the Constitution was even written.
I was there, most importantly,
because I was inspired. Inspired by the strength and conviction shown by the
Parkland survivors. Inspired by their using their privilege to give voice to people all too
often kept silent: Black victims of gun violence. Inspired by the persistence
of Cameron Kasky in pressuring Sen. Marco Rubio (R-Florida) to answer a yes or
no question about taking NRA money, and encouraged by their determination to
continue to speak even though some try to ignore them or to dismiss them
because some of them aren't old enough to vote. Inspired by seeing other folks
my age or older who were also inspired by these survivors.
I was inspired even more in the
days leading up to the march when Parkland survivor David Hogg challenged people with "white privilege" to
use it to address gun violence in the black and other communities.
"We recognize that
Parkland received more attention because of its affluence," Parkland
survivor Jaclyn Corin said, according to CNN's article about the march.
"But we share this stage today and forever with those communities who have
always stared down the barrel of a gun."
Now that millions of
Americans, some barely entering voting age in time for November's midterm
elections have been inspired, what's next? As someone who hasn't had to face
being dismissed because I'm a kid since the George H.W. Bush administration, I
challenge the people in power to listen to these activists. I challenge the NRA
to recognize that unfettered access to assault weapons does not equal
responsible gun ownership and to support our calls for common-sense gun control
legislation. I challenge those on the far right who claim the government's
going to come after their guns to realize that President Obama never tried to.
Most importantly, I challenge
all of us to inform ourselves of the facts about these and all other vital
issues of the day and get out and vote in November.
That's how change happens.
That's how America finally got out of Vietnam. That's how we'll finally get common-sense
gun control.
