Kids and Violence.

Or why there is no substitute for a good guy (or lady) with a gun.

Don Cicchetti 12.7.17

Years ago, my daughter Samantha and I were home in the afternoon, (she was off school, 2nd grade and I was home with her) when there was a loud knock on the front door.  When I answered, I discovered that there were about a hundred cops, including SWAT (tactical truck and all) at my door and in my front yard and they did not look very happy.

Yes? Can I help you? I asked, as I got about a hundred hard stares from our new guests. 

Daddy, how many cops are out there? Sam asked. 

All of them I think...

Sir, there was a bank robbery and we think the robber is hiding in your backyard, said a highly impatient, and very-well armed young man at my door. Could you open your backyard gate?  Well, I wasn't going to miss this, so I grabbed the key and, with many cops accompanying me, we opened up the gate.  Then I was shooed back into the house and told to stay down.

So, I go back in the house, and get Sam and my nice Ruger 9mm and we sat down on the floor of the kitchen, because that's the place with the most walls between us and the outside world, which could be filled with bullets and anger at any moment.

While waiting, she asked me:

Daddy, what if the robber gets in our house?

Well, he would have to get past all those cops, and they all have guns huh?  Yeah, she smiled for a moment, but then got serious again.

What if he gets past the cops somehow? 

Well, he would have to get past the bars on the windows huh?  The momentary calm was even shorter... and

What if he breaks the bars and gets in the house??

Well honey, what do you think will happen then?

You'll SHOOT him!

That's right. And then a peaceful smile came across her face and we waited for the all-clear sign.  Turns out the miscreant was not in our yard after all but I was proud of the aggressiveness and professionalism of the local LEO's though, and hope they got the guy.

The whole experience got me thinking. 

We Americans grew up in a culture formed by the assumptions of the Ghandian sort of pacifism.  We almost always feel guilty and somewhat tawdry when we consider using violence to solve problems because, after all, all violence is morally equal, right?  And if we didn't believe that, and I certainly didn't, we at least knew that on some level we had been "reduced to the level" of the robber by our willingness to use violence.  Worst of all, we had inflicted our wicked world on an innocent child who now knew that her Dad was capable of picking up a gun and killing someone.   Could she ever trust me again?  Is it not frightening to learn that your Dad has the potential to be a killer? So I watched her closely, and in fact, I noticed that she trusted me more, and even had more affection for me after doing that than before.  Wait, weren't we taught that violence, or even the threat of violence, traumatizes children?  That seeing Dad with a gun means that Dad might shoot them with it?

Now me, lifelong shooter, teacher of other lifelong shooters, am the last guy in the world to buy into all the "all violence is morally equal" rubbish, but I still found myself feeling like it was true on some level.  I would bet that many of you, in my shoes, would feel the same emotions.  It's how we were raised.  

But Sam taught me the truth.  Ghandi was wrong.  Dead wrong.  

No, all violence is NOT morally equal, and as gun guru Massad Ayoob says: "righteous countervailing violence" is indeed the act of a moral person.

Sam wasn't traumatized, she was safe.  She knew, that we adults would stand up and fight the bad guy, and she would be safe, and so she felt safe.  This, my friends, is how the world was supposed to work; before that great brown flood of nonsense and lies taught to all of us since the 1960's washed over our nation.

Some violence is righteous.

Ask your kid. Ask them if bad guys came into our house, would they prefer that Dad had a gun and fought them, or hid under the bed, hoping the cops come in time?  Actually don't ask them.  You already know the answer don't you?  Your kid wants you to make her safe.  That's what being a Dad means. It's what being a Mom means.  Face it. Accept it. Raise up your inner warrior and make your family safe.

It's what we're here for.

Oh, and Sam has since become a very safe gun handler and a pretty darn good shot herself and will be able to make her own house safe some day.