A Sad State Of Mind

A Sad State of Mind

John Paul Derryberry

How do I even begin typing my blog this week? How do I articulate what a school shooting does to me when thinking about my family. And articulating these thoughts without having comments and emails flood in about the Second Amendment, or how I'm going to light on how the problems are guns. We have made this conversation so toxic that most of us give up the nuances of gun violence and school shootings and just keep quiet about how we feel. Or the opposite occurs and we just scream at everyone about how our feelings on the topic are correct.

The most honest way is this start this is my wife is a teacher. I spend most of my time thinking, not if, but when will I get the phone call that a shooting has occurred in her district or school. Not to mention, that now my girls are walking the halls of schools. This week, I cannot imagine the grief and depths of despair in Perry, Iowa. Just like every community reliving their school shooting where it has occurred before. I feel a tinge of selfishness going to how a school shooting impacts me, because I haven’t experienced it yet. But I often can’t help but feel my wife, my sister, also a teacher, and my girls are in the line of fire. Just as I’m sure there is confusion about why us in Perry Iowa. I’m also sure the chill of having to navigate the mental and emotional toll these events have had on that community. Not to mention communities reliving shootings from their past. Yet, part of me drifts to what happens to me if it knocks on my door.

Almost every successful person can quickly name a teacher who saved their life or changed the course of their life forever. I’m no different To name a few who impacted me: Mr. Baker, Mrs. Panek, Mrs. B., Coach Bell, Mrs. Perry, Mrs. Dolan, and my sister. Yes, my sister was my high school teacher for two years and had a profound impact on me. She still teaches today, and sometimes I wonder when the phone will ring, and it will be her school.

I'm also aware of family members and friends in my life who own firearms. It does not bother me that these people own guns, but I would prefer we move society toward safer outcomes, so that people I love, or who changed my life, can educate young people with as little fear as possible. Or my girls could learn and grow without it hanging over their head. While we can not legislate danger out of society, we can do more than thoughts and prayers. And again, I'm not saying that people of faith shouldn't pray for a better world. I'm suggesting we might want to move into the action phase of getting a handle on our gun violence problem. My guess is we won't; the toxic screaming that "only my view of the world is the correct one," will continue.

I'm fond of saying the answer usually lies somewhere in the muddy middle of everything. Currently, as a society, we are often afraid of that middle ground. I'm not breaking any new ground or offering up any grand solution to the problem. Maybe that is a part of our problem: a school shooting happens, and we run to our corners and yell about guns, or mental health, or rights and forget we lost kids and teachers to violence. And will lose more children who can’t process through the trauma. Let’s not forget teachers leaving the field because of a desire to work in a safer environment.

I just know I have to say in my space; My head’s not buried in the sand, I know it can happen in my community. I often worry about when it could happen to us. What happened in Perry, Iowa will happen again sooner than we think makes me sad this week. Sad, we are in this place, and our leaders are not charting a path out of that state of mind. That’s what leaders are susposed to do, move us away from danger even while planning for the day it comes knocking. Until we do that, it will remain a sad state of mind and fact. We could do better, yet we openly decide not too.