I grew up in a time and place where owning a rifle or shotgun was normal. They were used for sport, and that was the only reason to own one. I had no problem with that. Farmers and ranchers had more need, but I never met one who gave it much thought. Guns were tools like any other. There were always a few strutting buffoons who managed to get permits to carry concealed weapons, and buffoons they were. The very few who truly needed one never talked about it.
Will our legislators ever have the courage to enact common-sense gun legislation—to license guns and gun owners—without trespassing on the Second Amendment? It shouldn’t be necessary, but apparently it is, to remind the public and the Supreme Court that the Second Amendment is about well-regulated militias. I long ago lost interest in the whining complaints about a supposed constitutional right to own whatever weapon one desires. The loudest complainers seem to have no interest in any other constitutional right, nor even the slightest knowledge of them.
I think it is safe to say that the legislators of our nation, and particularly those of Virginia where I live, will not have the courage to do anything about gun control. So we are left on our own. What can we do?
Perhaps the most powerful thing we can do is to ridicule the cowardly wimpiness of people who need a gun to prove themselves. We can say it in conversation, on social media, and in letters to the editor—but always in the third person. Ridiculing the illusion that owning a weapon makes one safer or establishes one as a true man or woman allows any listener to reflect on what is being said without necessarily feeling attacked personally.
It’s pretty clear from advertisements for concealed carry permit training sessions that they are marketed as signs of real manhood and strong womanhood. Everyone, the ads say, is in constant danger of imminent attack and must be prepared to defend not only themselves but the public as well. In other words: you too can be a Lone Ranger. This has fostered a popular culture—at least in some places—that treats owning a weapon as a sign that you are not to be messed with. It’s a very compelling message.
A 26-year-old friend of mine lives in a part of town where shootings are a daily occurrence. He told me recently that since everyone seems to own a gun, maybe he should too. We had a long conversation about the foolishness and danger of that choice. To his credit, he decided not to join the ranks of the armed.
It is the seductive message—that a weapon is a sign of strength—that requires us to expose and ridicule it as the foolishness it is. I believe that may be the only way, at least for now, to move the pendulum in a new direction.