President Obama's Newton, CT, Prayer Vigil Speech

Worry, agitation, horror, and grief for victims are keeping me up this night.

I'd worked this afternoon at the 2nd job and had Tulip tape the Pats-49's game for me. She warned me when I got home that parts of the game had been preempted for a speech by President Obama. She tried to counsel me to please try and approach it with an open mind.I almost fast-forwarded through it but didn't (and I did try to be open-minded).

I have to say that his opening was one of his better ones in a long time. He was more animated and didn't engage in that god-awful metronomic back-and-forth between his teleprompters. For once, I actually felt he was being genuine, which would ultimately scare me, and I wish I could've stayed on that line of thinking.

My often quick writing on this site may not reflect it as well as I'd like and am capable of, but words—both written and verbal—are potent and have substantial meaning in my current profession. People's job titles and pay ranges, along with the related arguments from one side or the other, can hinge on how information is phrased. To be blunt, a seemingly innocuous email intended to provide a little help can come back to professionally bite on the ass when least expected. As such, I feel these takeaways from the transcripts are critical to the future of the gun community:

Since I've been President, this is the fourth time we have come together to comfort a grieving community torn apart by a mass shooting. The fourth time we've hugged survivors. The fourth time we've consoled the families of victims. And in between, there have been an endless series of deadly shootings across the country, almost daily reports of victims, many of them children, in small towns and big cities all across America — victims whose — much of the time, their only fault was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

We can't tolerate this anymore. These tragedies must end. And to end them, we must change. We will be told that the causes of such violence are complex, and that is true. No single law — no set of laws can eliminate evil from the world, or prevent every senseless act of violence in our society.
But that can't be an excuse for inaction. Surely, we can do better than this. If there is even one step we can take to save another child, or another parent, or another town, from the grief that has visited Tucson, and Aurora, and Oak Creek, and Newtown, and communities from Columbine to Blacksburg before that — then surely we have an obligation to try.

In the coming weeks, I will use whatever power this office holds to engage my fellow citizens — from law enforcement to mental health professionals to parents and educators — in an effort aimed at preventing more tragedies like this. Because what choice do we have? We can't accept events like this as routine. Are we really prepared to say that we're powerless in the face of such carnage, that the politics are too hard? Are we prepared to say that such violence visited on our children year after year after year is somehow the price of our freedom?

[Emphasis and, again, mine]

What will you propose? What will you do based on "whatever power [your] office holds," Mr. President? Those are strong, potent words.

I found the above statements worded exactly as I would word them to build the rhetorical argument. I can't help but see this as the opening political shot across our bow, folks. There is that old,"If there is even one step...:.

We don't have to engage in the ghoulish tactics that the antis do. We do, however, need to be prepared to be heard and seen. We need to respectfully remind those not otherwise paying attention or, thinking that profound change is necessary, that we are many; we are law-abiding; and that we are their neighbors, dentists, teachers, doctors, lawyers, police officers, baby-sitters, dog-walkers, crossing-guards, alderman, waitresses, clerks, and even job classification analysts. I talk of  the gun community; however, this community is also their community and is inseparable.

Do we remove the ability (as far as I know, it is not a defined right) for everyone to drive a car because of those who continue to drive drunk—often multiple times and with revoked licenses—and kill children on our highways?

If you think I'm being idiotic and comparing apples to oranges, just know that my own family knows tragedy and victimhood as a result of someone recklessly or maliciously using a piece of equipment. Perhaps, that'll be a post for another time?

I'm going to leave this post off with a thought about statements that I used to hear members and supporters of the gay community use when I was back in college:

Silence is agreement.

If we don't show solidarity, if we don't allow/ensure ourselves to be seen as the respectable members of our communities we know we are, then we are silent and give our unspoken support to the loss of a significant factor of our lives and a constitutional right.

If we don't speak now, we have given-up our right to speak after.