Remembering Sandy Hook and reflecting on our nation

On December 14th, 2012, 26 people lost their lives at Sandy Hook Elementary School. Many of those killed were children.

As this horrible anniversary passes, it makes me think about the progress and lack of progress we’ve made as a nation towards keeping our children safe.

Ten years ago there was such momentum to pass stricter gun control laws that ultimately did not go as far as they should have. There are still loopholes in our system to get around background checks.

There are still people out there who believe the faulty rhetoric that “the only way to stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun,” even as we witnessed this past May how an armed security officer fled the school during the Uvalde shooting and police officers stood on the sidelines as children were murdered inside of their classrooms.

The reality that school shootings, that mass shootings in general, are still occurring is a harsh one that makes me feel at times hypervigilant.

There is an annual Thanksgiving parade that happens outside of our apartment building each year. I told D there was no way we were going to take Jameson to it. Running through my head was the parade shooting that had happened in another state this past summer. What if that happened here, in our city?

It wasn’t until the morning of the parade, as I was walking to get coffee with Jameson, that I decided it was safe enough to go.

On our short walk I passed at least five bomb sniffing dogs, police blockades, along with FBI agents. Back into our building I had a brief chat with a neighbor who said he could see snipers from local law enforcement on the rooftops along the parade route. That is what it took for me to feel safe.

When I told my husband what I had seen and that now we could go down to the parade for a bit, he shook his head in disbelief. Not at me, but at the fact that a local parade now needed this much security for people to attend with their loved ones.

It is unrealistic to expect every community event and every school to be armed like this. We can’t live each day in constant fear but we also can’t live in ignorance either.

As just one person, the problem of gun violence can feel overwhelming and insurmountable. But at times like this I hug my son a little tighter and I try to find something productive to do with my worry. Today that looked like going onto the Sandy Hook Promise website and signing a petition for stronger laws regarding background checks.

It was a small thing, but it was something positive and empowering. I encourage anyone feeling overwhelmed by the issue of gun violence (or really anything in the news), to find something small they can do to contribute to being a part of the solution. After all, every little thing counts.

“Why care?” Dealing with volunteering burnout

“Why do you do it if it brings you this much stress? It doesn’t seem like you enjoy it very much.”- A very valid question asked by my husband last night.

Last night I went on a bit of a venting spree to my husband about the state of the volunteer organization that I’m a part of. Specifically, how uninterested so many of our members have become and how hard it is to get people to sign up for events to help out in the community.

This is the third month in a row that I’ve organized a day to prepare a meal for women living in emergency shelters. And it is the second time in three months that we haven’t been able to fill the measly five spots required for volunteers.

I was complaining to my husband that nobody seems to care anymore. That people say they are excited to give back to the community, but when it’s time to show up, its just a few who are left to do double or triple the work when no one else shows up.

To be honest, I’m exhausted. And six months pregnant. And dealing with a number of other things in life that have been requiring a lot of my attention lately.

And to continue being honest, let’s be real: sometimes caring is exhausting.

But I’m starting to think that maybe it’s the way I care that’s the most draining. Maybe I care too much about the outcome. Or maybe I’m letting my passion for a cause cloud over the fact that my time and energy for said cause aren’t as robust as they were last season.

When my husband asked me why I’m still doing it when it doesn’t seem to be bringing me joy, it made me realize that he’s right. Well, partially (sorry, honey).

Helping out in my community brings me immense joy. But helping out at the same intensity that I was last year isn’t anymore. And there is the disconnect.

So I’m going to take some time and figure out how I want to use my free time in the season I’m in right now. More family time before the baby gets here is high on my list. As is editing my novel and setting up things at my job before I go on maternity leave.

I want volunteering to still be a part of my life in the coming months, but I want to do it the way I began doing it, and that is with an open heart.

Have you ever dealt with feelings of burnout as a volunteer? How did you handle it?

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started