Tuesday's Bitter Anniversary

I've seen precious little about it, even though the anniversary is coming up tomorrow. I'd like to think that it's something practical, like it's only a nine year anniversary, or we're distracted by all our other issues. I'm sure we'll see a bunch of pieces tomorrow, and for one day some folks will pretend to care.

I'm writing this on Monday, December 13. Tomorrow is the ninth anniversary of the Sandy Hook murders.

Twenty-six people died, twenty of them children. Tomorrow we'll see various outlets trot out retrospective stories, some with pictures, some with graphic descriptions of the terror and horror of those peoples' final moments. It will be a writing challenge, to try to stir up feelings about the killings, to find a nerve to press down that hasn't already been pressed.

Because tomorrow we really mark two anniversaries. One is the anniversary of one of the nation's most horrific mass murders, a school shooting that literally outstrips the mind's ability to grasp fully. The other is the anniversary of learning something about ourselves as a nation.

Sandy Hook stands out among all our many various mass murders in this country, all our long parade of school shootings, because Sandy Hook was the moment when it finally became clear that we are not going to do anything about this, ever. "If this is not enough to finally do something," we thought, "then nothing ever will be."

And it wasn't.

"No way to prevent this," says only Nation Where This Regularly Happens is the most bitter, repeated headline The Onion has ever published. We're just "helpless."

Look, I don't know that draconian gun control would work, though I know that the few-years ban on assault weapons did (don't message me with your objections to the term "assault weapon"). I can't pretend to have an answer to this persistent and complicated problem. But I'm sure "thoughts and prayers" aren't doing jack or squat. I'm sure that legislators trying to come up with any kind of "solution" that directs attention away from guns isn't it. Whatever. 

We've made it very clear as a country that we aren't going to do anything about it, that we're going to pretend that even though we have gun violence and death on a scale unparalleled by any other nation on earth, it's just not really a problem and there's not really a solution. Meanwhile, "thoughts and prayers" out of one side of the mouth and "the government is coming to take your guns (so you better buy more)" even though after all these years the government still hasn't even tried to come take anybody's guns.

But Sandy Hook made it clear. Each new shooting would be greeted by a little theater, some somber shadow plays, some depressing statistics, make some stupid proposals (let's arm teachers!)and then we'd move on and not do a damned thing. Just put students through god-awful active shooter drills and add "maybe take bullets for children" to teacher job description.

If you ask me to lay out a perfect solution, I can't. But I know that the solution is not to do nothing but shrug and say, "Oh, well. That's how it is"-- something we've never adopted as a solution for anything else, ever, in this country.

Sandy Hook is when we knew, when we finally understood. This is how we. as a nation, want to live.

So tomorrow, feel that bitterness and anger, and also set aside a moment for remembering that to those families, the anniversary is not that of a bitter turning point for us as a nation, but a very painful and wrenching and specific anniversary for a wrenching and specific loss. I'm going to wrap this up with something my sister posted today:

It's 9 years now.

 
They were in their last 24 hours on this planet. Thoughts and prayers, fundraisers, marches, petitions, celebrities, anger, outrage, apathy; churches declaring it not their problem, gun owners defying common decency, government being cowards,mentalhealthcare availability, safety drills, fancy door locks, security officers....those didn't stop it, neither did the bravery of the staff literally stepping in front of a gunman, teachers pulling students out of hallways, barricading doors with file cabinets, the custodian running room to room to warn....They hid in closets, bathrooms, under desks, in the dark. And 26 of them died there. Don't look away.

 
Our country turned a dark and dangerous corner when none of this created any change. The children would be learning to drive, going to junior proms. The building was razed when insane people wouldn't stop coming to see it, and the survivors were too frightened to return to it. First responders were in therapy for years, some of the children were literally shot to pieces. Don't look away.

 
I know it's hard to hear, hard to dwell on, hard to think about how we've failed. But it is the very, very least they deserve. The ones who didn't come home, and the ones that carry on as best they can. The families with a hole the size of a small child. The ones in other schools, wondering if they are next. They deserve our attention tomorrow. Don't look away.

 
Remembering Sandy Hook.