Recently...

...there was a shooting at a school in Virginia.

It's difficult to know exactly which emotion to whip out of the closet for this one. I can only try to relate to it in a vague "what if it had happened here?" type way. It's absolutely terrifying in every possible scenario I can come up with. I've been listening to the radio coverage of the whole shamozzle and noticed a disturbing trend. A call-in show this afternoon confirmed this trend:

Host: What's going through your head right now?

Caller #1: I'm deeply saddened, but (insert gun registry issue here)

Host: What's going through your head right now?

Caller #2: It's absolutely horrifying, but (insert comparision of American & Canadian society here)

Host: What's going through your head right now?

Caller #3: I'm very sad, but (insert alienated youth overgeneralization here)

People jump so quickly from sorrow to anger, as though pointing their finger takes away the sense of general dread one can't help but feel after something like this happens. It's the police officer's fault for not entering the classroom building sooner, it's the university's fault for not evacuating the campus after the initial shooting, it's the gunman's friends fault for not noticing that their friend was acting in an anti-social way!

The gunman is dead. There's no great rush. It is known (or at least announced) who the shooter was. The gunman is dead, and so I am sad.

I am angry too, but my anger seems to centre around my inability to comprehend what would drive a person to do this. I am angry that he turned the gun on himself. I feel a great swell of anger when I think of his cowardice, of his inability to face up to what he has done. Of his inability to deal with whatever the issue was in the first place.

He was powerless over whatever "it" was, so he took power into his own hands. We are powerless over what has happened, so we point our fingers at seemingly dangerous targets; the government, the gun owners, the campus security, the countless other targets who might share in "the blame."

I am divided on the issue of gun ownership. I doubt I will ever own, let alone fire a gun. I think guns should be difficult to acquire, but I don't think that owning one should be prohibited. I have seen no evidence that proves that all gun owners are dangerous. It's the anger, the sense of helplessness that comes with thinking that a gun will "protect you" that I fear.

When I was seven I went downstairs late at night to get a snack. It was dark and scary, so I thought I would take a knife with me back upstairs, because that would protect me from whatever I was afraid of. I ended up having a full-blown nightmare, a staying awake all night long. A weapon didn't make me feel safer. It made me feel like there was something I should be afraid of, something I needed protection from. In the end, there was nothing there in the dark that wasn't there in the light. I just couldn't see it clearly.

So, after it all, I am not "sad, but..."

I am just sad.