Safe spaces for our kids, ourselves
Every day when we go to work in a children’s hospital, we know that today could be the day. The day when our community is in the news, and we are called to the Emergency Department to assist in caring for victims of a school shooting.
We work more than 1,000 miles from each other, in communities that differ politically and demographically, and yet we share the same, very real fears. Just three weeks ago, we wept with the nation when 19 children and two of their teachers were slaughtered in Uvalde, Texas, torn apart by an assault rifle that was reportedly purchased legally online by an 18-year-old and picked up at a local gun store.
Now, as we dry our tears and reflect on what to do next, we stand together, in separate parts of the country, to demand better for our children and ourselves.
In 2020, for the first time, firearm violence overtook motor vehicle crashes as the leading cause of death of children ages 1-19 in the United States. Because of their horrific nature, mass tragedies spark conversations in ways that everyday tragedies do not. As pediatricians who care for firearm violence victims in the hospital, we know that the horror in Uvalde bears out in smaller, individual acts of violence against children every single day in every corner of the country.
We will continue to have conversations in the coming weeks about why our country allows children to be murdered in the places in which they are supposed to be safe. Why our country has the weakest gun laws and the most guns among comparable nations.
We will not have as many conversations about the subsequent devastation and mental health repercussions on children that this exposure to violence brings. Those effects start in the children who survived the attack in Uvalde, but will spread out to their families and friends, their loved ones and community. We are already facing a national child and adolescent mental health emergency.
We will also not talk enough about the fact that the burden of firearm violence is carried disproportionately by children. The burden is heaviest for Black children and children who suffer from poverty. Anything that we do to address gun violence must also address the root causes of disparity.
On the sixth anniversary of the mass shooting at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Fla., a group of 10 Democratic and 10 Republican senators released a statement on a bipartisan framework for gun safety legislation. As pediatricians, we applaud this promising news.
It won’t solve all the problems, of course, but it’s a start.
We have powerful stories and a growing body of evidence to highlight the effects of gun violence on children. Our senators must hear from us how important this is to the physical and mental health and well-being of children in our country.
We must invest in education and research into effective gun safety research and translate the findings into national public policy and laws.
We as a society, across political and geographical differences, together must demand better. We have to elect officials who will pass gun safety laws that make a difference. We have to donate to and support organizations that research gun violence and mental health.
We can turn the tide, but it takes all of us standing together across our differences, finding common ground, to do what is in the best interest of kids.