Every day, a photograph, a poem. Yesterday I wrote about the horrible idea of building a gun range in a residential neighborhood filled with homes filled with neighbors who are families, elders, children, teens, and pets— all who chose to live in a quiet and peaceful neighborhood which the sound of gunfire ends, smashing peace.
It could also lead to allowing the public to carry their guns up to the range and fire, fire, fire, fire their weapons of death. It brings the sound of death.
Someone said to me to think of it as the “sound of freedom,” since the police need training in this day and age where, I would think, police would not want every person in a neighborhood to own a weapon the police themselves may not carry as a usual protection as “peace officer.” And yet, there we are— in many states— no reasonable gun regulations. Fortunately, in Washington State, we have civil and sane regulations of such weapons of death, and so, one would think, the sounds in our neighborhood would not be that rat – at- at sound of death.
Someone pointed out a Marine sign in North Carolina, and in a search for a public domain image, I found the same sign:
“PARDON OUR NOISE, It’s the sound of freedom” is on a sign that sits outside the main gate of US Marine Corps (USMC) Marine Corps Air Station (MCAS) Cherry Point, South Carolina (SC).National Archives
Not within or near a residential neighborhood, on a military base, this noise is reasonable and is the sound of protecting freedom. And, I understand the need for police training and use of firearms. That is not the issue: the issue is that my neighbors and I choose this very quiet, small neighborhood of family homes and tree-lined, sidewalked streets for our families to live— free, in peace.
The sound of freedom is not gunfire. The sound of freedom is two little, giggling girls sneaking up to their big brothers playing three-on-three basketball. It’s the sound of kids racing down the streets on their bicycles. It’s the sound of skateboards crack, crack, cracking and jumping down the sidewalk and curb. It’s the sound of neighbors greeting one another, checking in. It’s the sound of chatter and water balloon splashing at a neighborhood block gathering. It’s the sound of chickadees in my backyard and the breeze in the trees. It’s a sound without fear. That’s a reason to live here, in this neighborhood.
And the sound of a gun range destroys that— and brings in the sounds of death and war and a lack of respect for the rule of law.
My neighbors and I do not agree on many things, but we do agree on conversation and respect because we believe in the rule of law. We all have opinions and rights.
And we choose to live in our neighborhood with that respect for one another without fear, but rather of caring for one another.
And the sound of gunfire is jarring— it’s intrusive— it’s a signal that we are not free and that we should live in fear. We don’t want that signal. We don’t need it here— we respect one another and choose to live with the true sounds of freedom— living without the sounds of fear that pulling a trigger brings.
There must be an alternative place for training— away from this park-like neighborhood of families.
is peace of mind
to live without fear
of a moment turned wrong
by a trigger so easy to pull
1198 days of posts in a row
UPDATE June 12, 2022:
My friend Terry brought me to this moment as a signal– a signal that changes the social construct of our society– that gunfire is normal. It is not.
Here’s what Terry shared [also in comments below]
And so in the Daily Create’s serendipitous prompt, I was able to add a new word to our new world: signalapsody– because gunfire is not a sound that society should become accustomed to– it is the opposite of hope and home.
Signalapsody is the underlying societal signals of hope and peace that propel humans in their actions towards the promise of a better world; examples are the sounds of a quiet neighborhood with children laughing and playing, neighbors greeting one another, a conversation of differences working to solve a problem together, and a gentle breeze in the trees where chickadees singSheri at WordPress and Flickr
It’s a wrong signal. It’s a dystopian signal. It’s the opposite of our dreams for our children and grandchildren.
Geeky Gramma ~~
Retired Middle School Language Arts/Media Teacher ~~
Writer and Thinker~~
Art from the Heart