A couple years ago I was
presenting to a group in a state facility.
Half way through my spiel, the building went into an active shooter
drill. We squished into a closet, closed
the door, and waited for the all-clear.
Based on the jokes made at the time, I think I was the only person upset
with our defenseless tactics. The door
was not locked. We were just hoping that
the dice didn’t come up snake eyes. I
found out later that the only person in the building with a gun was the head of
security and he was required to keep it locked in his office.
Later that year I was called into
jury duty. I got there already having
stripped my pockets of pepper spray, pocket knife, bottle opener, and anything
I thought could be even mildly objectionable.
I passed through the metal detector and earned a wand check because I
always forget my cane is a no-no. The
lone security guard checked me in and whisked me off for processing for my civic
duty. There was nothing stopping someone
from walking in—no security barrier—just a single rent-a-cop.
A couple years later I had to request
a replacement social security card. I entered
the Federal building and found my way to the appropriate floor. Upon entering the waiting area, I was greeted
by a Federal police officer. She was
kind enough to walk me to registration.
In doing so she made me walk on her left side (not my normal practice)
so her gun hand was free. I could feel
the contours of the body armor vest under the shoulder she graciously offered as
we walked to my seat. I remember
thinking that here at least was someone taking security seriously. Of course, I had to strip down all my normal less
lethal gear before that trip and the guard was in the office not at the
building entrance.
A couple weeks ago I had the
pleasure of touring my employer’s Federal counterpart in DC. By this time, I was used to the normal
restrictions—so I divested myself of my usual panoply the previous evening. As I went through the metal detector, the
guard made me go through my pockets again.
They saw my key-bar which looks like a pocket knife. After I explained that I was carrying an innovative
keyring and not a potentially deadly universal multitool, I was cleared,
badged, identified, and eventually given the run of the building. Especially given the recent shootings, I was
not encouraged. What happened if someone
chose not to go through the metal detector and went on a rampage? That was exactly what happened in the DC Navy
Yard shooting—and the poor security greeter was the first targeted.
I am committed to the right to
keep and bare arms as well as the essential right to self-defense. Nobody should be forced to take up the tools
of protection if they do not wish but I feel strongly that those who do not
wish to do so should not render the rest of us defenseless either. Consider that National police and emergency response
times vary from ten minutes to an hour or more depending on region and volume. For example, yesterday my county ran out of ambulances
due to the number of snow-related accidents.
Consider also that most of the recent active shooter events have played
out in less than the amount of time it takes police to respond in the first
place. In the case of the Florida school
shooting there was an armed school resource officer on premises as well as
several nearby sheriff’s deputies. They
stood back and waited while the shooter went about is grizzly business. In the pulse nightclub shooting, the police
waited hours to confront the shooter while many victims died from their wounds. Yesterday a Maryland student took a gun to
school and shot two classmates before being shot by a proactive school resource
officer. Sometimes emergency response is
a hard counter to those up to no-good and sometimes not.
In wrestling with this issue, I am
reminded of Tommy by Rudyard Kipling:
“I went
into a public-‘ouse to get a pint o’beer,
The publican ‘e up an’ sez, “We serve no red-coats here.”
The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,
…
O makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’ they’re starvation cheap;
An’ hustlin’ drunken sodgers when they’re goin’ large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit.”
The publican ‘e up an’ sez, “We serve no red-coats here.”
The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,
…
O makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’ they’re starvation cheap;
An’ hustlin’ drunken sodgers when they’re goin’ large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit.”
Kipling’s rhyme is pertinent despite its age. Soldiers returning from Vietnam, Korea, and
world war II felt the lash of public opinion despite standing in harm’s way at
their country’s behest. I do not pretend
to such exalted company. I do feel society
would rather denigrate me for my unwillingness to become a victim than celebrate
me for my clean record and moderate track record though. “He’s one of those gun people—you know, one of
those.”
The end result
of all this security theatre is that I have to stand outside my employer’s
building in the middle of Baltimore, where there was a shooting a couple months
ago, stepping over homeless, across from some abandoned buildings used for drug
peddling, with nothing more than a container of pepper spray, strong language, and
the hope that the rent-a-cop shows up soon to let me in. I routinely have to divest myself of basic
tools like pen-knives because it makes someone somewhere “feel” better. I have been followed many times by unstable
people from the midsummer mitten wearing profit who followed my wife and me
onto a cross-town bus to the guy who tried to lead me by my cane while claiming
he could punch me in the face. My very
obvious disability seems to draw crazy people like a moth—and this is run of
the mill every-day crazy. I do not have
the luxury of door-to-door personal car service. I spend more time in the company of strangers—in
the wild—than any of my friends. So, I
have the double whammy of being a self-defense minded person and a PWD who
society views as incapable of self-advocacy much less self-protection.
I’m not going
to argue for guns in schools or constitutional carry. I’m not going to claim to have all the
answers or even the best answers. I have
said and will continue to say disarming law abiding freedom loving people like
me helps nobody. I am rendered even more
of a victim than the general public. If
we are really and truly going to discuss how to make our schools, our places of
business, and the halls of government safer, we need to start by saying that
good gun owners and self-defense advocates are not the problem. Guns protect people every day, from the
students who were not shot yesterday because an armed resource officer stepped
in, to the thousands of crimes that are prevented each year by responsible
armed citizens. The state will not
protect me while I wait outside its building.
It will fire me if I fight back against an active shooter though—I was
told so during our employee orientation.
This is the standard our society is setting; that it is better to die an
unarmed sheep with no blood on my hands than be given the minimal tools to
defend myself.
Our buildings,
our airports, and our most vulnerable are defenseless despite useless inconvenience
like the TSA’s repeatedly verified inability to stop real threats. People who have done nothing can’t even carry
a pen knife into a federal building but people like me are the problem—or so I
have been told lately—often—forcefully.
I mention this because
readit, YouTube, and Facebook are in process of culling legal firearm related
material. These are private companies
who have every right to sensor their content as they see fit. These private companies are also where a lot
of “free speech” takes place. If we want
an honest discussion of gun ownership, where is it supposed to take place if
not on YouTube, reedit, or Facebook? How
can I make people aware of my particular concerns without those platforms? YouTube is banning videos containing even images
of legal magazines capable of holding more than 30 rounds or legally owned
accessories like suppressors and bump-fire stocks. What happens next? Do we ban images of political views we do not
agree with—oh wait, that’s already happening.
An honest discussion takes place when there is a forum for those with
whom we most disagree. Moderate
candidates succeed when all views can be heard—not when uncomfortable
discussion is prohibited. I am safer
when society has to consider the full implication of its decisions. Please consider writing to your social media
vendor of choice and politely request a more open policy—for my sake—and for
the sake of honest conversations everywhere.
Today it is guns. Tomorrow the “publican”
may decide not to serve “your” kind.
