“Thoughts and prayers.”
It’s the chorus sang in unison after every senseless mass shooting instead of meaningful change. By now, you’ve heard that familiar refrain. It’s a verbal white flag.
You’ll often hear a variation on that theme from those same people: “If you don’t like it here, you can leave.”
Well, as the mother of a 2-year-old boy growing up in an especially violent state within an increasingly violent country, I don’t like it at all – and some days I think I just might.
My son has only been in preschool since January, and I’ve already attended a meeting about safety in case of an active shooter. The school director made it clear to us: Our children’s safety was her top priority. As I looked at her, hearing the emotion in her voice, I thought about what kind of country puts teachers in a position where they may take a bullet for a child – teachers who have families they want to go home to at the end of the day.
It’s depraved.
Is the US a safe place to raise a child?
In the United States, 1 in 20,000 children will die by firearm before they turn 18.
Since the school tragedy in Uvalde, Texas, a year ago, mass shooting carnage has only increased.
Gun deaths among U.S. children and teens rose 50% between 2019 and 2021 to the highest total on record, according to a Pew Research Center analysis of the latest statistics from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
It’s hard not to feel hopeless. As the body count rises, so does my fear. I increasingly wonder whether the United States is the safest or best place to raise a child.
I’m a mass shooting survivor:I was 10 feet from a gunman who killed my friends. It’s a trauma no one else should endure.
For four years I lived in Qatar while working internationally as a journalist. Colleagues from other countries often asked me what was wrong with the United States. They simply couldn’t understand how mas shootings just keep happening.
Neither could I.
When I moved back home to Houston from the Middle East, I was sure it was the right decision at the right time. I came back to give my child a good life and a sense of home, with all the family and community support that comes with it. I don’t want to pack up and leave again.
I still don’t. I love where I live. It’s my hometown and a great neighborhood. I’m just a few blocks from my parents, financially comfortable, and I know my son will go to good schools. Living near my family means he sees his grandparents every day and his extended family regularly. My son needs his village and his village needs him, but none of that matters if he doesn’t make it through grade school alive.
My desire to leave racks me with guilt
Even with all this, it might be worth it to give it all up and run away from this place. I know there’s a lot of privilege in saying all of that.
Gun violence is so insidious. At least once a day, it comes across my mind that somebody could cut my son’s life short. Out in public, I’m always calculating: “Where are the exits? Where can we hide? Where could we go? Is that fence around my son’s preschool high enough to prevent someone from getting through?” A mother shouldn’t have to do this kind of recon – as if there weren’t enough things to think about raising a Black son.
President Biden:I’m doing everything I can to reduce gun violence, but Congress must do more
Even so, my desire to leave racks me with guilt. In the back of my mind I’m asking: Am I being a deserter? If I am this distraught and this concerned, do I owe it to my country to do something, or do I owe my child my best efforts to keep him safe?
I want to give credit and support to the people who are trying. There are so many on the ground, in the community, and in Congress and our state legislatures fighting the good fight in the face of daunting odds and opposition.
There are the parents of the Uvalde victims and the Parkland, Florida, survivors who refuse to give up our country to this sickness that is killing us. Who am I to give up if they won’t?
I’m not naive. I’ve been to dozens of countries, and none of them are perfect. Yet although every country may have its problems, not every country has a law enforcement agency releasing a video claiming, “You can survive a mass shooting. If you’re prepared.”
I’m not prepared for this. I shouldn’t have to prepare for this. Yet every day, as much as I don’t want to, I become a little more prepared to leave.
Richelle Carey is an Emmy Award-winning American broadcaster. She is a journalist, host and moderator specializing in international affairs and global politics. She lives in Houston with her son. Find her on Twitter at @RichelleCarey and Instagram here.
