March For Our Lives

This was my favorite poster. WAKE UP, AMERICA.

Today I walked in the Seattle edition of the national Parkland student-led March For Our Lives.

Though my early childhood was colored by civil rights marches and Vietnam war demonstrations, this was my very own first formal peaceful protest. Bucket list checked, for sure. 

And while I found the emotion and community spirit of the experience to be deeply moving, I wasn't at all surprised by that. This is Seattle, for heaven's sake, where personal expression and social compassion are our stock and trade, where democracy is freely exercised and lovely manners prevail. 

I smiled as the crowd broke into unrestrained applause as we passed police officers protecting us from traffic at major intersections; I grinned and waved as the monorail train drove by overhead, the friendly horn tooting to greet us as we marched along underneath. 

Establishing commonsense gun control laws is an idea whose time has come. The Parkland students have mobilized themselves, their fellow students, and a goodly percentage of the American people to stand up and absolutely demand that our lawmakers address this issue. And I believe that with the power of today's national demonstration, we have achieved a tipping point. It's simply a matter of time before officials who resist change are voted out. And with forward-thinking businesses stepping up to invoke their own commonsense policies around gun sales - I'm looking at you, Walmart, Dick's Sporting Goods, and Fred Meyer - the tides are already turning. 

Which leads me to consider the next facet of gun violence - one that is very real and very personal for me - that I hope our national conversation may soon be ready to address. 

Consider Emma Gonzalez's words today, at the front of her profound address at the Washington DC protest:

"Everyone who has been touched by the cold grip of gun violence understands."

If you haven't seen the full video of Emma's six and a half-minute speech, 
check it out. You will be moved. 

My guess is that Emma was thinking about the people who stand on the receiving end of the bullets:

those killed or injured, 

those traumatized from witnessing and watching,

their families and friends,

their communities,

those who worry that they might be next.

And yes, those people hold a special bond of fear and powerlessness and horror that the rest of us can only begin to imagine. I honor and respect what they suffer. 

But with her words, Emma spoke a deeper, more powerful truth than she may have realized. 

Someday, we need to expand our conversation to consider those who pull the trigger. 

Because despite all the ugly talk about monsters and terrorists and deranged social misfits, the shooters are human beings. The cold grip of gun violence destroys their lives too, as well as the lives of their friends, families, and loved ones. 

I look forward to the day that our culture develops a clearer understanding of the horrific power guns have over everyone involved in these shootings, and we learn to embrace the fact that gun violence is always a two-sided tragedy.