During my childhood, my family possessed an antique shotgun that once belonged to my great-grandfather. Ironically, it was stolen during a burglary when I was eleven. This was the extent of my personal experiences with firearms as a child. I didn’t grow up around friends who frequented shooting ranges or engaged in hunting. My family didn’t own guns, and if we had friends who did, they rarely mentioned it. I have never owned a firearm, nor have I ever felt compelled to.
Growing up in northern Idaho, I witnessed a community that took the “militia” aspect of the Second Amendment seriously. Consequently, I often linked gun ownership with paranoid individuals hoarding weapons, anticipating governmental intrusion on their rights. Admittedly, this led to some biases on my part.
In college, I participated in a peculiar activity called “coon hunting” with friends in rural Iowa, which involved driving through bumpy fields in an old pickup, shining flashlights into trees, and attempting to shoot startled raccoons. The friend leading this adventure was the son of a pig farmer and one of the brightest people I’ve encountered—an exceptional student majoring in math and computer science. While I find coon hunting somewhat unsettling, this experience challenged my preconceived notions about gun ownership.
Since then, I have actively sought to confront my biases and understand differing perspectives in the ongoing American gun debate. Although I personally have no interest in hunting, I recognize the various motivations behind it. While I don’t feel the need to own a firearm, I understand why some do. I don’t agree with the Supreme Court’s interpretation of the Second Amendment, yet I respect the rights of individuals to possess guns for personal use. There are many perspectives I might not fully grasp, but I strive to accept them.
However, there remains one aspect of America’s relationship with firearms that eludes my comprehension, no matter how hard I try: I simply cannot understand the culture surrounding gun devotion. Owning guns is one thing; embracing them with enthusiasm is entirely different.
From my viewpoint, guns primarily serve one purpose: to inflict harm or kill. While they can certainly be utilized for sport, and there is undoubtedly skill involved that people can take pride in mastering, their core function is to end life. They are the primary weapons of soldiers and law enforcement—necessary tools in those professions, undoubtedly. Some individuals also see them as vital for personal defense.
Yet, to me, this reality is a tragic one, not something to celebrate. Guns have caused immense destruction, suffering, and pain throughout history; I struggle to comprehend how anyone could view them as objects of excitement. A healthy respect for firearms, in my opinion, begins with acknowledging their lethal nature. The idea of loving guns feels comparable to loving bombs—it simply doesn’t make sense. I can appreciate the technology and the mechanics involved. I can understand the freedoms enshrined in our Constitution. However, the notion of “Yay, guns!” seems profoundly misplaced to me.
Expressions of gun enthusiasm, whether through bumper stickers or merchandise, leave me unsettled. I recall the “I Love Guns and Coffee” campaign at Starbucks, which struck me as unnecessary—”I Love Freedom and Coffee” would have conveyed the same sentiment without the discomfort. I’ve even seen elaborate photo shoots featuring firearms, which I find perplexing.
For me, the trauma inflicted by gun violence overshadows any enthusiasm for firearms. When I hear someone proclaim their love for guns, I’m immediately reminded of the tragedies—like the twenty first-graders and six teachers who lost their lives in Newtown. I think of a shooting spree that occurred in a seemingly safe town just a few miles from my home, resulting in the death of a neighbor. I envision my best friend’s stepfather, who once attempted to shoot her mother in a drunken rage, thankfully missing. The images of war, terror, and needless violence replay in my mind, and the word “love” feels utterly misplaced in this context.
I understand the argument that it isn’t the gun itself that poses a problem, but the person wielding it. Guns lack free will, and I don’t react with the same visceral response to knives or cars. However, this is because those items are not primarily designed to kill.
To reiterate, I can grasp the concept of gun ownership, but the idea of loving guns remains foreign to me. Firearms may have their rightful places in law enforcement, the military, hunting, sports, self-defense, and responsible ownership. They hold significance in our history and within our Constitution. However, I firmly believe they should not occupy a place in our hearts.
If you’re interested in exploring more about home insemination and related topics, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination. Additionally, for information on intracecervical insemination kits, visit this site.
Summary
The author reflects on their limited experiences with firearms and their struggle to understand the culture of gun enthusiasm. They acknowledge the complexities surrounding gun ownership while expressing discomfort with the notion of loving guns. The piece emphasizes the tragic implications of gun violence and argues that while firearms have historical and legal significance, they should not hold a place in our emotional lives.