My first introduction to firearms in America occurs less than an hour after touching down at LAX. We are at a donut shop, struggling against jet lag as we wait for our onward journey to the East Coast. A young lady nearby is engrossed in an animated phone conversation with her mother. Emanating from her words is an alarming tale of nearby gun violence that had led her to curtail her nightly adventures.
As the background conversation ends, an unsettling phrase resonates in my mind: ‘In America, everyone has guns.’ Several hours pass, and we find ourselves at JFK, drowning in a pool of our own luggage. Over the airport intercom echoes a stark reminder: firearms are not permitted in hand luggage.
‘What’s a firearm?’ inquires my nine-year-old, her curiosity piqued by the unexpected announcement. Her brother, an eleven-year-old with an active imagination, paints a flamboyant picture of arm-mounted, fire-spewing machines. As we navigate the city in a cab, their laughter serves as a brief respite from the seemingly omnipresent theme of guns.
In the following days, we play tourists on the city streets. We bask in the glow of summer as we observe Central Park’s resident squirrels, lose ourselves in the narrow streets of the West Village, and witness the hustle and bustle of Times Square. We traverse the expanse of the Brooklyn Bridge, joining other travelers in capturing memorable snapshots.
Brooklyn offers a contrastive serenity compared to our lively neighbourhood in Manhattan. As we gaze at the Manhattan skyline from a scenic burger joint by the waterside, the thought of Brooklyn as a better choice for our family lingers in the back of my mind. After tucking the kids into bed at night, I chance upon an unnerving headline: a shooting in Brooklyn, with five victims.
As our children step on the threshold of their new school, news of another dreadful incident reaches us – a 14-year-old in Georgia had shot down two of his classmates and teachers. A few days later, Kentucky joins the unfortunate list of incidents. Reports of gun-related violence become an inescapable part of our daily media consumption.
On the second week of school, my phone vibrates with a notification, testing the readiness of the IRIS Alert System at the school. The Principal had prepared us for this drill – aimed at testing the school’s emergency communication network. The children were acquainted with the lockdown protocols, which was a unique experience for them.
My nine-year-old recounts her day with an anecdote about how her teacher taped the window in the classroom door to mask their presence from potential threats. I am taken aback by the prospect of my little girl hiding in a bag closet, maintaining silence to ensure their safety. I hadn’t expected the shadow of guns to creep into her innocent school days so soon.
The move to America came with the intention to write about brighter themes, but the overwhelming reality of the gun violence here has been difficult to sidestep. The Gun Violence Archive cites around 47 fatalities per day due to firearm-related incidents in this year, albeit better than the 57 deaths per day in the previous year.
Foreseeable fears of a potential rise in shooting incidents have been expressed by some nonprofit organizations, given the highly charged political atmosphere as the nation inches towards November’s elections. ‘There are too many disillusioned and agitated people around, wait for the trigger, and unfortunately, guns are easily accessible here,’ they warn.
There has been minimal interference by the U.S political leaders in dealing with the gun lobby or the dissection of the constitutional right to bear arms. Regardless of the identity of the presidential elect for this year, the outlook for a significant shift in firearm-related policies appears grim.
In an isolated scenario, on a balmy spring evening, my daughter is jolted by a resounding crack from outside our open kitchen windows. Her immediate query of ‘Was that a gunshot?’ is met with my quick dismissal attributing the noise to a passing car. An understandable curiosity about gun sounds brews within her.
Her brother chimes in with a ‘That’s a vehicle!’ pointing to the revving engine in the distance, further assuring her. Still, the encroaching presence of firearms and accompanying violence is tough to hide, resurfacing in conversations far too often, quite reflective of the environment we now call home.