My week has revolved around guns. It hasn’t been by choice. I haven’t chosen to go to a gun show, or go hunting. It is because I live in the United States.

On June 12th, we remembered the 49 LGBTQ+ people that were murdered in the Orlando Pulse Nightclub shooting a year ago. I remember driving home from Ann Arbor after visiting a friend, crying in the car because I could not imagine the horror those people experienced. The radio host I was listening to was also getting choked up. It was in the news for a couple days, but receded into the bowels of the 24-hours news cycle. Those families have endured unimaginable trauma that the rest of the us did not think about for a whole year.

With this not far from my mind, I met a friend for a drink on June 13th at a bar that I frequent. It is a bar that I had my first legal drink in on my 21st birthday, so it holds some sentimental value. As my friend and I finished up, we walked outside to find a woman calmly calling 911 telling the dispatcher that a man threatened to shoot everyone in the bar following an argument with the person he was with. She said he was allegedly yelling, “You don’t know me! I’ll shoot every fucking person in this place if I have to!” If I have to. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. We left immediately after learning this, but I went on that night like nothing had happened. Just another Tuesday evening.

On June 14th, the day I am writing this, a gunman opened fire on Republican’s practicing for their annual bipartisan baseball game. From what I hear, the week leading up to this game is one of the most fun weeks of the whole summer in D.C. 5 people were injured, some critically. The shooter was a lone gunman who apparently harbored anti-Trump sentiments according to his social media accounts. He used an SKS rifle, an AK variant, and a 9 mm pistol. He was able to cause so much damage in a minimal amount of time. Imagine if Capitol Police had not been there. It would have been open season on our elected officials. Not all those injured are out of the woods yet, and I truly hope they all make a recovery from this terrifying scene.

When I enter any room or establishment, I take stock of where the doors are. I see if the windows are unlocked or accessible to climb out of, or if I would have to break them in the event of an emergency. I look above me to see if someone with a gun could look down and pick me off. I look for hiding spots.

At times when I bring this paranoia up, I am often greeted by the solution of, “Just get your concealed pistol license (CPL).” I am uncomfortable with this idea. I am not uncomfortable by the concept of a CPL in any way, but I am uncomfortable that the solution to combat gun violence and mass shootings is for every person to be strapped at all times. I also know that the likelihood of me taking out a gunman in an active shooter situation would be slim. I do not have the demeanor or stoicism that is required of someone to do so.

I know myself, and I am a runner. I run away from these situations like I just stole something. I was once in an active shooter situation while attending MSU, which turned out to be a false report. When I received a text during class that the building I was in was to secure in place because of an active shooter in the building, I put my things in my bag. Another student and I made eye contact with each other and had a full conversation without saying a word. We calmly exited the classroom and left the building. This was obviously not what we were instructed to do, but we did because we were scared. I knew that I was on the 3rd floor of a building, in a classroom with one door. I knew if I had to jump to escape, I would likely hurt myself badly. I decided to take my chances with a back stairwell and a likeminded friend. My professor was still lecturing when we left. Like it was normal. Like it was just another February day.

I do not have any solutions, but I know I get scared. I get scared because it can happen when I go out to a club with my friends. I get scared because it can happen when I meet a friend for a drink on a Tuesday night. I get scared that it can happen while I am at work. The threat of situations like these will never keep me from living my life, but I will always look around a room for a way out.

Signed,

Mary Herman