A Utah senator wants to raise firearm-purchasing age to 21. Chances are he’ll have a snowball’s chance of succeeding
History will remember with perpetual heartbreak last week’s events at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas.
Long after myriad news vans and “intrepid” reporters cold-knocking on doors for the latest hot take, pack up and leave, the wounds on this Hispanic-mayority town of around 16,000 will remain open. Gripping headlines come and go; the havoc of teenage shooter Salvador Ramos’ actions in this tight-knit community robbed of 21 lives, will forever be indelible.
Just like in the aftermath of the Sandy Hook Elementary, Columbine High, Virginia Tech and scores of other school shootings, reactions to the Lone Star State’s deadliest — and the country’s third-deadliest mass shooting — were swift. Understandably, there was anger. There was outrage. There was pain.
Also part of the aftershock is incessant posturing, grandstanding and indignant chest-beatings from the political establishment.
Robert Francis “Beto” O’Rourke interrupting Republican Guv. Greg Abbott’s briefing, in a move heralded as heroic by some and opportunistic by others, comes to mind.
Closer to home, Utah state Sen. Derek Kitchen took to social media the day after the shooting to announce a revelation: he would open a bill to raise the legal age required to purchase a firearm from 18 to 21.
In the missive, Kitchen highlighted that the great majority of this year’s 26 registered school were carried out by someone under 21, and called upon an uncited study that found raising the minimum purchasing age was “associated” with a 9% decrease in firearm-assisted suicide in those ages 18 to 20. (The study, Fox 13 later clarified, was a fact sheet provided to Kitchen’s office by the Giffords Law Center.)
Kitchen’s followers peppered his public Instagram post with positive comments like “THANK YOU 🙌🏽” and “Amen to this! How about 25 when their front lobe is developed?”
The freshman senator went on to muse about the yet-to-be-drafted bill’s “simple” nature: “If you are not able to consume alcohol, why should you be able to buy a gun?”
The statement makes sense in a binary world, but it’s missing historical nuance in the context of red Utah, the first in the country to designate a state gun back in 2011.
In a video pinned to his Twitter feed, 33-year-old Kitchen leads with being “the youngest person in the senate and the only queer person in the whole Utah legislature.”
He’s also up for reelection on June 28.
How refreshing would it be if the Democratic establishment — locally and otherwise — were to move past the paragon of identity politics to focus on results?
According to BillTrack50.com, during the 2022 legislative session, Kitchen backed two successful initiatives out of a listed pool of 13: SJR.10, a joint resolution expressing “desire and readiness” in hosting future Olympic and Paralympic Winter Games; and HB.24, a bill designed to address the Employment Advisory Council within the Department of Workforce Services.
Even the innocuous HB.298, meant to appoint the brine shrimp as the state’s crustacean, was DOA.
This time around, perhaps consulting with and listening to local Latino leaders, including fellow Hill dem Sen. Luz Escamilla, could have strengthened Kitchen’s bill prospects out the gate. It was after all the shooting at Uvalde’s Robb Elementary School — whose student body is 90% Hispanic — that inspired it.
Instead, he saw an opportunity to benefit from brown devastation in a move reminiscent of summer 2020, when in the wake of the police killing of 22-year-old Rose Park resident Bernardo Palacios, Kitchen took the mic at a march near the Granary District murals, and announced he would introduce a bill to end qualified immunity. An ovation arose; tears by Bernardo’s friends and family were shed.
Said bill was abandoned.
As a working journalist, it’s my job to not make my opinions public. At journalism’s core, however, lies the tenet of comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable.
It’s clear Kitchen has begun to feel comfortable in his seat.
In the weeks leading to the election, the incumbent has poised himself as “the environmental candidate for Senate District 9”; an affordable housing champion; and now the de facto leader for “common sense gun reform.”
Respectfully, Sen. Kitchen, which one is it?
Yes, just like the hit movie, a politician worth their salt could potentially be everything everywhere all at once. Still, his most recent scorecard demonstrates he has a ways to go.
Channeling a nonexistent crystal ball, I and many others can confidently predict that if he were to be reelected, and Kitchen’s latest virtue-signaling endeavor made it to the floor during the 2023 session, it would have a snowball’s chance in H… heck (this is Utah, afterall) of passing.
Yes, the time for comprehensive gun reform is now, and it shouldn’t take yet another devastatingly violent event to bring the subject to the table. There are, however, other floor-level factors to consider before aiming straight for the headline-grabbing optics of Kitchen’s bill ideation.
Factors like, as the Giffords Law Center — the same entity that provided Kitchen with that fact sheet — points out, include a pressing need for universal background checks, an adequate waiting period before purchasing a firearm (in Utah, it’s none), restrictions on large-capacity magazines and the implementation of extreme risk protection orders.
I hope that I’m wrong, and that Kitchen’s proposed endeavor, should it ever materialize, is a watershed gun-ownership reform moment felt across the board (and the aisle), and that laws like it start popping up gangbusters, thus aligning with the fabled Utah Way™ natives and transplants alike are force-fed ad nauseam.
In the meantime, I’ll wait for the settling of a more honest political system. One that isn’t as clogged up by virtue signaling and personality politics. One wherein players can be transparent as to their motives, and voters aren’t goaded into perceiving their chosen candidates (and by extension their opponents) as Batman heroes and villains.
Chances are I’ll be waiting a while.
While I pass the time, I’ll borrow a line from Jack Nicholson’s legendary interpretation of the Joker and unequivocally say: Utah’s political system needs an enema.
