Senator Rand Paul
167 Russell Senate Office Building
Washington, DC 20510
February
22, 2018
Dear
Senator Paul,
This
story was written by Kimberly Harrington (a Vermonter) and published in McSweeney's January 27, 2016.
Please
Don't Get Murdered At School Today
Do
you have everything? Homework? Lunch? Field trip money?
I
love you.
I
remember that one of the Sandy Hook parents said that they took comfort in the
fact that they had seen their child off to school that morning — you know that
morning — and said, “I love you.” So before their first grader was gunned down
in her classroom, she knew that she was loved. I bet they all did though.
But
just in case, I love you.
We’ve
talked about all kinds of scary things, like I’ve told you never to get into a
car with anyone you don’t know and don’t ever believe that an adult needs your
help finding a puppy or a kitten. Also: no one will ever give you a free iPad
or Legos from their car, that’s just not how the world works.
But
for some reason, amidst all the talk of stranger danger and pedophiles, cancer
and dying, and me sheepishly asking your friends’ parents if they have a gun in
the house, we haven’t really talked about one of the scariest things of all.
Those lockdown drills you’re always having at school? No one’s being straight
with you about those. They’re to prepare you in case someone decides to come
into your school and murder you, your friends, your principal, the secretaries,
and teachers before killing himself (it’s pretty much always a him). Sorry
about that.
I
love you.
I
know that may sound scary, but what you need to remember is that this country
was founded on freedom. And that includes the freedom of all people (sane,
crazy, whatever) to have unchallenged access to guns that are capable of
executing at least 20 first graders or 12 moviegoers or 9 of the faithful at a
church service or even a baby asleep in her car seat. This is very, very
important in terms of staying true to the principles and spirit upon which this
country was founded. Just ask the Internet.
I
love you.
Also:
I think the real victims here are the politicians, how can they be expected to
do what’s morally right when they lost their way, not to mention their souls,
so very long ago? These politicians — most of whom have children,
grandchildren, maybe even great grandchildren of their own — have no qualms
about walking past grief-stricken parents who clutch photos of their murdered
children to their chests and telling them in so many words, “You don’t have to
go home but you can’t cry here.”
They
have to know, deep down, that what they’re doing is wrong and the world
certainly knows that what they’re doing is wrong but they put their suits on
like it’s any other job or maybe they’re convinced that they’re righteous
people doing God’s work. But they are no more doing God’s work than the ones
who have pulled the trigger over and over again.
And
again.
And
yet again.
Ad
infinitum.
I
love you.
I’m
sorry, I wish I had better news. But let’s keep our sympathies where they
belong — with the powerful and the armed. With those who feel threatened in the
face of the most toothless efforts to hold back the bloodshed and those who
believe scary monster stories about their guns being taken away. Let’s face it,
it would be easier to take away the ocean or the stars. Did you know that there
are more guns than people in this country? That means everyone in your class
already has a gun with their name on it, so to speak. Maybe mention that at
share time.
I
love you.
You
could also tell your class that sometimes when I hear a lot of ambulances and
fire trucks go by, sirens filling the air with panic, I pay close attention to
whether they’re heading in the direction of your school. And if they are, I
check Twitter and our town hashtag and the fire department account to see if
anyone’s mentioned your school. When I get the all clear I think, “Someone
else’s tragedy today, suckers!”
I
love you.
Yes
I know, I know, you’re going to be late. Just to wrap up, our country has
chosen to shift all of the weight regarding your safety away from our lawmakers
and gun manufacturers and instead put it squarely on the shoulders of your
principal and teachers. These people who kneel down on the first day of school
so they’re just as tall as you. These people who shake your hand and say, “Good
morning!” and help you rehearse for the spring concert and take you on field
trips to see different rock formations — they are now in charge of keeping you
from getting murdered. Which really is the least they can do for all that money
they make.
I
love you.
Oh
hey, quick reminder, tell your teacher that I’ll be picking you up at 2 o’clock
for your dentist appointment.
And
please don’t get murdered at school today.
I
love you.
Sincerely,
Amy
Beaton (mother of 4, wife of a public school teacher, voter)
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