“My heart is broken and filled with sadness and also filled with rage over the lives lost in Uvalde, Texas.
We all have so many questions
We are all feeling so many fears.
We are all asking for change.
But what does that look like? What does that mean? Oh, that’s where the room gets so loud yet so quiet. So many opinions, so many ugly debates, so many party blaming. This is when I end up leaving the room and finding a quiet spot to process my own emotions, ask my own questions, and feel, feel it all.
I think of the families with empty arms, the eyes of the little ones who died in a horrific way, I think of the ones left standing with a multitude of emotions and trauma that has now become a part of their story.
But I also think of him, the gunman. I did not expect to feel anything but rage for him. I should wish he was alive, so he could face the people who he hurt. He should be made to suffer in prison. Maybe he should be dead, never to hurt another soul. His soul is forever lost; perhaps that should be enough punishment to make my heart feel less rage.
But after a moment, another thought popped into my mind.
Who was the gunman behind the rage?
Who was the gunman behind this senseless and horrific act?
Who was the gunman that could look into the eyes of innocent children and not think twice about killing them?
He was a monster, of course. A f***ing monster. There is nothing else to discuss here.
Alone in my thoughts, they wandered past the rage, past the grief, and explored less popular thoughts.
The gunman was more than his senseless act.
He was indeed once an innocent boy.
A boy with no known father in his life.
A boy that was bullied over his lisp and speech impediment.
A boy with few friends.
A boy that was moved away from the few friends that stood up and protected him.
A boy with a mother who had issues with substance abuse.
He was a lost boy with so much trauma.
He was once a little boy who must have felt unseen, unloved, unworthy, unprotected, and unwanted in this world.
So, my heart griefs the loss of another life, one that I feel is wrong to grieve. But, don’t all children matter? They do to me.
We are all shouting for change. I hope that the room will become less noisy and more conversation. Let us grieve together, let us grow together, let us unite.
We need gun reform.
Mental health reform.
Child abuse reform.
Safety reform.
Foster care reform.
Reform the children in our cities without a mother or father.
Protecting our children means so many things.
Yes, it’s so overwhelming. But, one step at a time, we can get there.
Talk to your children about bullying.
Talk to your children about the importance of mental health.
Talk to your children about stepping up for those they see being bullied.
Talk to your children about the significance of reporting suspicious or inappropriate behavior.
It then becomes our job to listen, to make their voices heard, and demand the change.
Let’s not shout at one another; let’s be heard and be willing to listen to others. Throw your party out of the window, and let’s come up with a few different solutions.
Maybe together, we can stop the mass shooting, the hate, and the racism in our country.
But we can’t do it by shouting at each other. The room needs less noise, less chaos, and more conversation.
Let’s do it for them. Let’s do it for the lives lost and the lives that will forever grieve.”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Ashleigh Beaver. You can follow her journey on Facebook and Instagram. Submit your own story here, and subscribe to our free email newsletter.
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