Why do I Write

My step-sister was killed with a gun.

An ex-girlfriend was killed by a gun.

A friend was killed by a gun.

Strangers have aimed at me with guns, and fired. I was lucky. Many around me were not.

I have strongly held beliefs and feelings about not just guns, but violence. I write with hopes that someday my son Connor, when he's older, will have the chance to read this and get to know his Dad a bit better, and we can have a constructive discussion about the politics, the violence, and what can we do about it. I write because when someday he might ask me "Daddy, what did you do about it?", I can at the least say that I did this, this blog, with your basic garden-variety liberal hope to "make things better". It's my hope that my writing here stays constructive, and it's my belief that I'm at least providing myself some therapy with this; and that if I can make myself better, I've made "things" better.

While I'll make a good-faith effort to present facts and address misconceptions - including my own - I want you to know that I'm not looking for a rational, objective argument that might prevail in a debate. I suggest that the time for deference to rational, objective debate is gone; I admit that I feel intensely emotional about what's happening, and that sometimes listening closely to what we deeply feel, and acting on it, is important - it's what makes us human.

In my deepest heart of hearts, I hope that what I write causes one butterfly somewhere to flap its wings, and this creates a chain of events that save the life of one child from gun violence.