Of Guns and Goons
Preparing for the worst
First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.
The first time I shot a gun, I was 12.
Last time I owned a gun was in college when my boyfriend Lenny convinced me to by a .357 so he could practice target shooting. At the time, you needed a license to buy a gun in Iowa. Lenny couldn’t get one. He was blind.
It’s time I own a gun again.
Before I proceed, I just want to say that as much as I appreciate comments on these posts, I ask that you refrain from knee-jerk reactions about the moral ineptitude of people who own guns. I also don’t need lifelong gunowners commenting about how I finally came around. It’s high time we show each other a little grace, folks. Read on to see how it looks when we don’t.
Life with Guns
I grew up with guns in Upstate New York where I was raised by my aunt and uncle. I was 12 when brother taught me how to shoot a .410. My shoulder hurt for a week. The .22 was more my speed but I never saw a reason to use it. My brother shot snakes, though he preferred breaking their backs with a shovel and leaving them under the garbage can lid for my uncle to find. My Uncle Claude was a kind and decent man. My brother was damaged goods.
When hunters from Black Rock Fish and Game Club, which surrounded our property, shot at our house and barely missed my dog, I decided I didn’t like guns. I didn’t need guns. Only idiots from New York City spent weekends in the back woods shooting at anything that moved and some things that didn’t!
Ten years later, with my new gun, my first boyfriend and a metal trash can lid lifted from his landlord, we drove to a field outside of Iowa City and shot the hell out of that lid.
Lenny was the kind of blind that allowed him to enjoy TV but only sitting 6 inches from it, that let him go bowling but made him a lousy dishwasher. If the sun bounced off the trash can lid just right, he could see well enough to shoot it. But when we ran out of lids, we ran out of targets. Our shooting days were over and Lenny’s landlord was pissed.
Years after Lenny and I broke up, I sold the gun to my brother-in-law.
Life Without Guns
I’ve never been one to say, “I don’t believe in guns.” It’s like saying I don’t believe in clouds or peanuts.
What I don’t believe in is high-powered and military-grade guns in the hands of millions of sometimes drunk, strung out or just pissed off civilians across this country in the name of a Constitutional amendment written by men who never imagined such guns or such a scenario.
What I don’t believe in is anyone’s right to kill someone if that person is the wrong color or gender, is in the wrong place or says the wrong thing, whether it’s in rural Iowa or downtown Newark, because the American justice system - even at its best - can’t bring them back.
Facts to Consider:
In rural Pennsylvania, the fiancé of a young woman fatally shot her in the chest in a “hunting accident.” He had taken her hunting at dusk and claims he thought she was a deer. This so-called hunting trip happened just days after she’d given a sworn affidavit to the local prosecutor that her fiancé’s best friend had raped her.
“Women are five times more likely to be murdered by an abusive partner when the abuser has access to a gun,” according to multiple peer-reviewed studies cited by the Educational Fund to Stop Gun Violence.
Our Republican governor has named Iowa’s high prevalence of alcohol abuse as a top culprit in our state’s abysmal cancer rate (We’re No. 2! Yay!) ignoring our annual synthetic fertilizer, pesticide and herbicide abuse on more than 20 million ag acres. In her honor, let’s not dismiss the correlation between alcohol and gun violence. Google it.
Even knowing this, and even though I spent years living and working in some of the sketchiest neighborhoods in this country – Southside and Westside Chicago, Newark and Elizabeth, New Jersey, Waterloo, Iowa – I never felt the need to own a gun.
Life With Guns 2.0
Here in Iowa, I’ve learned that not all hunters are weekend warriors, idiots or fools, yet still I have no desire to hunt. Even the rodents around the house have never been annoying enough to shoot. We get our meat from “our” hunters. We feed the deer and rabbits our young trees and garden veggies, whether we want to or not. Up until now, still no desire to own a gun.
But now I need a gun.
For the first time in my life, I’m afraid of the elected officials who rule my country, state and even my county. Every stinkin’ one of them has a gun and supports legislation that is nothing short of fascism:
government controlling a woman’s decision to reproduce
banning books
removing free press protections
racial profiling followed by mass deportations
They might even see me as a threat, as many insecure people do. They might be spiteful or vengeful. Maybe just power-hungry. The difference is that these people have their hand-picked judges, the army, a national guard and a sheriff’s department behind them.
For the first time in my life, I feel the need to defend myself with more than the collective protection that good organizing provides. So, in addition to organizing, I’m getting a gun.
Throughout history, ordinary people have had to make similar choices.
As their government turned more and more totalitarian, would they duck low or stand up? Would they throw rocks at the army in the streets, hide Jews in their basement, join the Resistance?
Or would they keep their heads down, blend in and hope the men with guns and uniforms never banged on their door, raided their workplace or raped their daughters? Bad things only come to bad people, right?
These were never the simple choices they look like from afar. People had families to feed, homes to protect, dreams, loves, hopes, plans and a deep need to believe it couldn’t happen there. By the time they realized that it had, there was no going back. The threats - and the fear – had become very real.
Even now, there are 7,400 people on the Blue Dot Iowa Facebook page finding a place to grieve and vent, and maybe someday to organize. Today, someone posted the “good” news that the two MSNBC hosts who met with Trump had been fired.
“They are dead to me. Anyone who kisses the ring … after ripping on him daily … clearly it’s about money, not morals.”
“I am out! I used to love that show. They have no courage. Done.”
And when someone – not I – stood up for them and said, “Hey, what would YOU have done if your career was on the line and you faced a lifetime of lawsuits?” not a one of them showed mercy. In fact, they impugned the poster’s character saying she must be an unreliable friend and person.
They’re all ready to rush to the barricades and fall on their swords…at least on Facebook. Heck, probably even on BlueSky. Such brave souls they are.
We’ll soon find out what each of us is made of. In the meantime, I’m buying a gun.
Think “fascism” is too strong a word? Read some of the greats and decide for yourself. That is, if these books haven’t been banned from your local library or blocked by your browser yet…
It Can’t Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis
1984 by George Orwell
Animal Farm by George Orwell
Here’s the rest of an excellent list of 25 banned books that predicted the future.
I wish things weren’t the way they are and we wouldn’t have to think about personal protection against our gun toting neighbors. Damn.
I'd add a book to that great list you shared, too. Parable of the Sower by Octavia E. Butler.