BY JOELLEN COLLINS
Lately I hear myself uttering “Oh, no!” when I hear the morning news. Over my coffee and cuddling my dog, I am once again aghast at a school shooting or today, a week before this column will appear, the killing of a conservative young man who became a political kingmaker by appealing to the younger generation. I don’t care if he’s left or right or brilliant or misguided, he does not deserve to be killed for his opinions and for his prominence in the current political climate.
Daily I am shocked by the news and then saddened by feeling I don’t know what the heck I can do about it. Like so many of my generation, I have trouble understanding the deepening violence in the supposedly precious liberty and safety of the America we have shared and worked hard to keep free, open, and tolerant. Of course, our society has always endured internal and external hostilities, but I remember a time when religious places and schools, at least, were sanctuaries. We never imagined sending a child to school and worrying that one might get a call, as I did, about my granddaughter being trapped on a campus threatened by a violent attack on innocent children (it was, thankfully, a hoax). What can we do? We can vote, we can talk to friends, we can do our best to be positive and upbeat and help others — I know all of that. I try to keep active in furthering causes I care about and aiding people who need support. I go to church. I hope to live my life with a sense of honor. But I am really shocked by the consistent use of violence as a means to address differences. I hate to feel futile in my efforts.
So once again I worry about my grandchildren and now, because I communicate with so many other people in my age group – their grandchildren. I have benefited from writing my few hundred words every couple of weeks because I am required to think more carefully about the values that I have grown up with. Reflecting here reminds me of the good fortune I had to be born in this country, adopted in this country, educated in this country and also free to explore other parts of the world and come home. I have been blessed.
One of the gifts of being older is that we have all these stories in us and as a storyteller, I need to find joy in sharing them. Maybe that’s all I can do.
