Gun Violence - We Were Just Kids

Fifteen years ago I was at my friend Zara's house watching Oklahoma for the hundredth time.  It was the night of the James W Parker Middle School eighth grade dinner dance where some of our friends were serving.  It was a tradition that the dance was put on by the seventh grades: decorating, serving, cleaning up.  I had missed the deadline to sign up to be a server, so Zara and I made plans to hangout.  Her mom was the art teacher at our school, but she was home with us that night.  Midway through the movie her mom got a call from one of the teachers at the dance: someone had brought a gun.  Two students had been shot, as well as a teacher, Mr. Gillet.  We were only thirteen, but I remember the look of horror on her face while she was on the phone.  I remember Zara holding her knees wrapped in a blanket, trembling.  Where they okay?  Who was it?  Who brought the gun?  Did they get away?  Are our friends okay? Why would someone bring a gun? Questions raced through my mind as we sat there silent, waiting for her mom to get off the phone, tears building in our eyes. 

The two students suffered from minor wounds; however Mr. Gillet had died that night.

With all the debate over gun control and what is should or should not look like I can't help but think about my own middle school experience, and how it has shaped my view on gun violence. On April 24, 1998, I was thirteen years old, and before the shooting I had never really experienced violence. Sure, there were fights in the hall or on the play ground, but nothing more than bruises and in school suspensions came out of those. Never would I have thought that someone that I saw in the halls everyday would shoot one of our teachers.

All though I did not experience what happened that Friday first hand, I did see first hand how it affected my peers, my teachers and my school, and we will never be the same.  That night has touched all of our lives, even if only in the smallest way, and changed us, for better or for worse.