I keep having to write these posts.  Just after I started this blog, just over 5 years and 2 months ago, my nephew, who was 7 at the time, went to school at Sandy Hook School in Newtown, Connecticut, on what was supposed to be a normal school day. It was not.  He came home that day.  20 other children and 6 adults did not.

Yesterday, students, faculty and staff went to Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida.  It was Valentine’s Day. It was Ash Wednesday, a day marking the beginning of a sacred holy period for Christians.  It was supposed to be a normal school day.  It was not. 14 children and 3 adults did not come home last night.

I have spent the last 30 hours or so thinking about these incidents.  Today was my son’s 12th birthday.  I thought about his cousin, grateful, for the millionth time, that Nate, my son, had a February birthday, and Declan, my nephew was born in November and made the late cut-off to start kindergarten a year before Nate would.  That saved his life on December 14, 2012. I have thought about the families that lost children. I have thought about the educators that lost their lives. I have thought about those left behind who will carry this trauma for the rest of their lives.

Then I thought about inaction.

I thought about how social media has turned these tragedies into yelling matches or emotional posts at the culpability of one issue or another — guns and mental health top among them — and how easily thoughts and prayers get dismissed when they do not lead to action and advocacy.

Then I thought about where it will happen next.

Perhaps on my campus.  Perhaps at the middle school where I taught.  Perhaps in the community that I grew up.  Perhaps in my child’s school. I do not know where it will happen next, but I am sure it will happen next somewhere if we continue in the way that we have.

Because we have come to accept these tragedies.  In my last blog post, I wrote about the difficulty in being truly honest because we, as Americans, love happy endings.  We love heroes and underdogs.  We love being the best.

But, we also have come to accept that senseless violence and tragedies are part of the fabric of our modern society, and we have come to accept it so much that we allow for it to continue.

And when I say we, I include myself because, in my own mixed emotions of grief, outrage, trauma and frustration, I want to give into feelings of fear and hopelessness.  I want to homeschool my children.  I want to prepare the teacher candidates in my classroom for active shooter situations so that if/when it happens in their schools, they can be prepared.  I want to numb myself out and shout senselessly on social media (not that all shouting on social media is senseless, but it wouldn’t serve much of a purpose for me personally). I get these responses. I feel them deeply.

I am fortunate, I suppose, in that I am well acquainted with grief, outrage, trauma and frustration, though, and I know I won’t give into fear and hopelessness for long.  I know I will write through it because writing allows me to compose myself powerfully, and to breathe.  But, it took me a minute to write something.  I needed to sit with the raw emotion and find my part in the solution.

Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

1. I will send thoughts and pray. Because I refuse to forget and I believe that faith is critical in times like these.  But, I will also THINK on these things and take action because faith without actions is not enough.
2. I will continue to advocate for sensible gun laws.  If I had my preference, no one would have guns.  I’m just going to be honest.  But, I understand why people want guns for hunting and personal safety.  Okay, but semi-automatic weapons and high capacity magazines aren’t necessary for citizens. They aren’t used to hunt or defend oneself.  You don’t have to agree with me.  This isn’t something I will debate.  This is my part.
3. I will continue to advocate for compassion and destigmatization of mental health issues.  Many people with mental health issues are healthy individuals who are working with their health conditions, seeking help, sometimes struggling, but not violent.  However, when there are so many cultural and societal taboos around talking about when we need help, it’s a problem.  Maybe it’s not the central problem connected with school shootings, but it’s a larger problem in general.  We need a stronger mental health care system that addresses trauma before it reproduces more trauma.
4. When I have money, I will give.  When there are elections, I will vote.  When I have the opportunity, I will use my voice. These are small actions, but they are important when done in coalition.
5. I will use my position working with future educators to advocate for personal connection, presence with others that allows us to recognize another’s humanity.  Part of what bothers me most about the response to events like this is that so much of this tragedy and others like it result in further polarization and dehumanization.  We are entrenched in our corners, throwing blame (out of hurt) and we aren’t truly connecting with one another.  I am okay if this is Pollyanna-ish.  Maybe we need more Pollyannas.  Maybe we need to connect with our fellow human beings more.  Maybe if we connected more. If we took the time to stop being so distracted by things that are not important, we could appreciate one another and see our common humanity.  Maybe the loss of recognition of people’s humanity and the increasing alienation and polarization in our society is part of the problem.

I am sure there is more work to be done.  This is a start.  But, I refuse to normalize this tragedy and accept that we cannot do anything about it. I refuse because I love my children; I love children in general; and I love humanity, and my fellow human beings, even when we see very little eye to eye.  We have to start somewhere. I am starting with love. I hope that you will start somewhere that contributes to the greater good of our society as well, that responds out of love and not fear.  But wherever you start, or if you don’t start at all, I hope that we can come together at some point to recognize one another’s humanity.