When I was five years old, my choice of everyday shoes was a pair of light-up Skechers called Twinkle Toes. Every time I stomped on the ground, my Skechers would glow. I marched around every day, showing them off to anyone who would look — my ballet teacher even called me Twinkle Toes.
When I was six years old, I chose a new backpack because it was pink and had a keychain hook. I loved hearing my keychains jingle when I played with them.
Nowadays, light-up shoes and jingling keychains are a liability — what if they guide someone right to a child running for their life?
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I still remember my first code red drill back in elementary school. I was sitting on a purple square on a rainbow rug as my teacher taught us the protocol for the most dangerous situations on campus, such as “dogs with rabies.”
Nowadays, code red drills mean learning what to do when classrooms become crisis zones. Code red drills mean learning that teachers can’t unlock the door if you’re stuck outside because that means putting others at risk. Code red drills mean realizing that teachers are trained to value your life over their own.
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The Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting happened three days before my third birthday. My earliest memory is from when I was three. I don’t have a single memory of going to school in a time when teachers only had to worry about bullying and bruises. Instead, they worry about bullets in bodies.
There have been 1,987 school shootings since Sandy Hook in December 2012. 152 have occurred just this year. The most recent of which was the Annunciation Catholic Church shooting Aug. 27. This was Annunciation’s first week of school.
There are brand new notebooks still waiting to be filled with thoughts that will never be had. There are still rooms full of treasured stuffed animals that will never feel a child’s love again. There might still be stray Legos on their bedroom floors. I can’t imagine what cleaning up after your child one last time would feel like, knowing their frustratingly messy rooms will never be messy again.
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But, in the end, none of this directly affects me. I can stop and take a break when the news is too much. I can turn the TV on to my favorite sitcom, Brooklyn 99. I get to watch Jake Peralta pull out his gun and not fear for my life.
The children of Annunciation do not have that luxury. The children of Sandy Hook do not have that luxury. The thousands of children who have lived through school shootings do not have that luxury.
Since Sandy Hook, over 500 people have been killed during school shootings — and still, all that is offered are thoughts and prayers. What about action and policy?
Firearms have been the leading cause of death in children aged 1 to 17 for the last five years. And yet, Congress still has not passed common-sense gun laws or implemented universal background checks.
Does this country really value its right to bear arms over children’s rights to life? Their rights to liberty? To their pursuit of happiness?
These are our unalienable rights, as stated in the Declaration of Independence. But dead kids aren’t living. The survivors aren’t liberated. Their families can’t just “pursue happiness.”
Children are the future. Give them one.
