This normalization of gun violence in the US – who is it serving? Why can we not collectively make this not normal again?
O
n her first day of fourth grade, wearing her magenta spectacles, my daughter Anna arrived to the Big School where she couldn’t reach the drinking fountains. She was small for her age, in terms of stature, though she had big ideas.
I went to pick her up that afternoon, the first day of school, and I looked eagerly at all the young faces streaming out the door, but no Anna. The high schoolers flooded out, then the middle schoolers. Still no Anna. I started to get that mother panic vibration thing in my belly and I called the lower middle school office.
They couldn’t locate Anna. She wasn’t where she was supposed to be. After an hour, a search party of teachers was formed. And they located Anna on the top floor, in the library, reading.
