Can grief in Texas finally lead to common ground?

Like most Americans, I share in the grief of the Uvalde, Texas, community after a shooting rampage at Robb Elementary School claimed the lives of 19 children and two adults.

CNN reported that the incident “marks at least the 30th shooting at a K-12 school in 2022.” It is also the deadliest shooting at a school since the 2012 Sandy Hook massacre in Newtown, Conn., that left 26 people dead — including 20 children between 6 and 7 years old.

Many of us remember the Sandy Hook tragedy during the holiday season. Those kids were probably excited about the wonder and awe of Christmas and still believed in Santa Claus.

The Texas massacre happened just as the school was counting down the last days of the school year. Many students and teachers probably had Memorial Day plans that included parades, theme-park outings, or other family-focused festivities.

Now the long-awaited weekend and school year have been punctured with gaping and deep holes of unimaginable grief and disbelief for the community.

After a mass shooting, we listen to heart-wrenching stories from families that must resume their lives without their loved ones, and we hear from survivors. We witness the usual debates about gun control laws and a ban on assault weapons, as well as mental health issues. Moreover, our politicians promise urgent and immediate action against gun violence in this country.

President Biden, in his recent remarks from the White House about gun control legislation, implored lawmakers to “turn this pain into action.”

Long ago, Black and Brown people in urban communities who lost their children to senseless gun violence demanded gun control legislation. However, their stories barely made the headlines or garnered much public outcry beyond their friends and families. Their persistence didn't initiate much national dialogue.

Then when we heard about the bullet-riddled bodies of mostly children fatally shot in the Sandy Hook shooting, many of us thought for sure Washington would speed up gun reform legislation. After all, these were suburban children, primarily White. Their parents told us that the photos we saw flashed across our TV screens were not what their loved ones looked like when their bloodied bodies were ripped apart by an assault weapon. The gun debate persisted, and mass shootings continued.

Americans are again asking, “Will Congress now act on guns?” Not if, as a nation, we won't commit wholeheartedly to addressing gun violence across the board. Not if we don't critically answer the question: Why don't mass school shootings lead to gun reform?

Many of us have grown weary of talking about enacting sensible gun violence prevention laws, policies, and regulations. Others have grown tired of debating with those who believe their Second Amendment rights are being violated or are indebted to the National Rifle Association.

I don't believe anyone with an ounce of compassion wants to continue seeing children die from senseless gun violence. But are Americans more concerned with children being harmed by critical race theory than by bullets?

Meanwhile, our words to families of gun violence and our well-intentioned actions won't lessen their grief. We won't provide them with enough definitive answers or a professionally drawn profile about a murderer that will make them feel any better. Not even our thoughts and prayers will suffice if they're not coupled with action.

No, we won't prevent all shootings. But Congress must find common ground because our children depend on us to make things right.

Are Americans more concerned with children being harmed by critical race theory than by bullets?