Another shooting. I’m shocked and troubled by the violence at Northern. But at the same time, I’m not as upset about it as I expected to be. Not for a second shall I, do I, will I make light of what happened. It’s as terrible as what happened at Virginia Tech; the numbers dead aren’t the issue, but the violation of the University space; the killing of innocent people in the best, the most profound time of their lives.
But then the responses come: the “heartfelt thoughts” which seem more like grabbing a public relations opportunity than expressing genuine sorrow; the immediate rejection of “politicizing” the shootings; and worst of all the action/reaction thinking (Guns are/not the problem! Colleges are/not doing enough! There oughta be a law! etc.). Much of this discourse (and there’s no need to link it) leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
Maybe I’m just relieved things weren’t much worse. There could have been more killed and injured. The professor killed could have been my friend Michael Day. The students could have been mine. After all, they attended the same high schools, rooted for the same football teams, made the same friends.
Grief and guilt make a strange mix: I hurt for the families of the six who are gone, and wonder why I don’t hurt more.