In the aftermath of last Friday’s Isla Vista mass shootings, there are so many things I want to say. I tried to put them together into some kind of cohesive statement, but that didn’t work well. Instead, I’ve decided to list them out:
1) First and foremost, my heart goes out to the victims’ friends and family members. You are all in my thoughts. I also wish the wounded a speedy and full recovery.
2) I quickly learned that my friends and classmates were okay, but I spent Saturday scared that someone I may know—a student, someone else—may be among the dead. I am thankful that no one I know was killed, yet I also know that that means that someone that somebody else knew was among the dead, instead.
3) I walked in front of the IV Deli Mart at 11:30am that Friday, en route to grab lunch from the Isla Vista Co-Op. I was 10 hours removed from being a victim. Around 9pm that night, I started to walk home from a workshop that was located two blocks from one of the crime scenes. I was two blocks and 20 minutes removed from being a victim. I was home by 9:15pm, 10 minutes before the shootings started.
4) My being only slightly removed from being in the wrong place at the wrong time isn’t unique at all: it is the story of thousands of UCSB students and Isla Vista community members.
5) More than anything, I am sad. I’m sad that six innocent people—people with hopes and dreams and great futures ahead of them—were robbed of all the joy that their life would entail. I am sad for their family members who now have an uncloseable hole in their hearts.
6) People sometimes try to hone in on a singular blame for mass shootings such as this one. It’s because of video games. Or it’s because of guns. Or it’s because of mental illness. Or it’s because of misogyny. But really, it’s all of the above, and then some. Mass shootings are a systemic issue: there are several parts interacting with each other. There are no easy explanations; there are no easy solutions.
7) Still, it goes without saying that these parts are worth addressing. Most misogyny does not lead to mass shootings, but it is more likely to lead to sexual assault and rape. Most people who experience mental illness are not violent—in fact, they’re more likely to be victims of violence than perpetrators—but regardless, it is worth increasing the availability of resources that may help to make their lives better.
8) I wish that the perpetrator, and millions of other people across the world, knew how to love from within. Yes, the approval of others can be nice. But nobody should need others’ approval to feel worth as a person.
9) The perpetrator’s manifesto was filled with indignance, as if he had a right to women’s bodies. No one has a right to another person’s body. I’m sickened yet not surprised.
10) Online comments (why do I bother reading them?) claim that if only someone would have had a gun that this could have been stopped sooner. Perhaps that is true: there is a grain of truth to the saying that “a good guy with a gun stops a bad guy with a gun.” But no one has an obligation to carry a gun. Whatever debate we have, we must not blame the victims: each person has a right to walk outside and be safe from any and all violence.
11) There is something surreal about seeing my normally out-of-the-spotlight community all over the news. I’m used to seeing blog posts and Facebook commentary about big national events, but it is strange to hear friends from across the country commenting on what happened in my neighborhood. Also: reading through my Facebook feed on Saturday morning–with its equal mix of posts about the shootings, “I’m safe” messages, graduation photos, and funny memes–was a bizarre experience.
12) I have never been more proud to be a part of the UCSB community than in the aftermath of this tragedy. I’m not just saying that because it’s cliché. I’m saying that because, in light of what’s happened, I’ve witnessed the community come together. I’ve witnessed so much kindness, so much checking in to see how others are doing, and so much encouragement. I attended Saturday’s candlelight vigil and was moved by the genuine expressions of grief and the words that helped to bring us together in solidarity.
13) Communities should not have to experience this kind of tragedy to come together in such a beautiful way.
14) Although the perpetrator was officially biracial, the media’s portrayal of him is steeped in white privilege. If he were black or a Muslim, his actions would be conveyed as reason that members of these minority groups are thugs or terrorists and not to be trusted. Yet no one will say that we should not trust white people because the perpetrator looked white.
15) I don’t want to see the perpetrator’s face. I don’t want to read his name. When something like this happens, particularly within one’s own community, we have to talk about it. But the perpetrator should have no glory in it.
16) I have somewhat conflicted feelings about the perpetrator. Nothing will ever excuse what he did. At the same time, I get the impression that his personal experience was one of misery. To me, that is sad. Not nearly as sad as all the misery that he caused to others. But still sad.
17) “Only love can conquer hate.” As I tried to get some work done yesterday, I was listening to Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” and this line stood out. I don’t know what would or wouldn’t have stopped this particular mass shooting. But if everyone felt love, if everyone felt worth, and if everyone knew that others were worthy of love and were worthwhile people, too, the world would be a somewhat better place.
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