I am not afraid of Muslims, African-Americans, Mexicans, or any immigrant–whether documented or not. I am not afraid of gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender individuals or ANYONE who chooses to extend compassion to others, strive, sometimes fail, pick themselves up, be grateful for what they have, and start again. I am not afraid of people who are imperfect, who make mistakes and want a second chance.
What I am afraid of is pissed off, entitled white men with guns. Men who have been taught, by virtue of the images that have surrounded them all their lives, that the world and all its women belong to them; who think that because they were the only faces reflected positively in the print media, television and movies for so long, that they are the chosen and what they want must always take precedence over everyone else’s needs. That they are the legitimate heirs to the rights bestowed by the Constitution.
Then they arrive at a point in their adult lives when they realize that nothing is as they think it should be. They don’t work at a job they love (if they have one), women aren’t flinging themselves at them, they don’t make a lot of money, and they don’t garner much respect. And as is their habit, they blame others for their inability to achieve what they see as their right. And they rage inside. And they strap a gun to their waist.
Which brings me to what I truly fear, which is walking into Target one day and witnessing someone getting shot because an angry man didn’t get the discount they wanted. I am afraid that some guy with a gun might hurt my grandchildren someday. And I am frightened most especially by the fact that our representatives would rather line their pockets than protect us.