e r l
Oct 2, 2017 · 2 min read

II awoke this morning in almost a good mood, the first thing I saw was the innocent face of my baby snuggled up next to me. Safe and sound in my arms. Pretending that I am capable of protecting him from all the suffering in this world, I am floored when Snap Chat is covered the images and sounds of fifty people dying in
yet another mass shooting.

Now the largest in American history.

Do I cry? Part of me feels too angry, but I find myself in tears. Unable to understand how something like this could happen, how we allow it to continue happening. My heart sinks, and I am taken back to Sandy Hook. December 14, 2012. The day still heavy on my heart, as a young Caucasian man (I will not fucking mention his name)let himself into an elementary school and opened fire on our children.

This is not fucking normal. This is fucking terrifying.
You cannot send your children to school.
You cannot go to opening night of your favorite movie.
You cannot shop the aisles of your local mall.
You cannot go to a music festival in Las Vegas.

We are still unable to put blame on white men and gun violence when mass shootings occur. We put blinders on, talking about “mental health” and showing the face of a murderer all over the evening news. We make white men who kill people infamous. We make excuses. We try to wrap our minds around it but still the question needs to be asked —

the composite

made up of various elements

e r l

Written by

e r l

i am as i am ; writer of words

the composite

made up of various elements

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade