ruminations on the tragedy in tucson

"The tragedy in Tucson": that's the "brand" CNN and NBC have given to the shooting yesterday. Another channel called it "rampage in Tucson" (not as alliterative) and Sherrif Dupnik referred to Tucson as "the Tombstone of today, USA" (which shows he has a flair for rhyme as well as illustrative language). I am not trying to be clever about language here but this is how my writer's ears open up. I hear words and consider their impact on my understanding.

My mind has been stuck in some kind of holding pattern about what transpired and the long-term ripple effects on this community. My heart, I guess, is somewhere else: maybe it's locked up for right now while the factual information comes dripping into my life like water torture. With some acceptance of this new reality, I want to trust that security is wrapped around the house of the alleged shooter's home so that no revenge-type act can take place. I want to trust that the parents of the little girl--who thought she was going to see Rep. Giffords and get some tips from her about how to succeed on the elementary student council but, instead, lost her life looking at her mentor's face as a bullet went "through and through" the Congresswoman's skull--are being consoled by their parish and family as they plan a funeral. I want to trust that an angel swooped down and lifted the child quickly away from the bloody scene and another one shouldered the Congresswoman's aide on his shoulders; that an angel with a gavel slug across his/her back guided the judge toward the pearly gates and that the other victims rode in silver chariots to the sky.

I am not saying I believe any of that happened, but I like to imagine such a scene. I am so grateful for the three heroes who averted more bloodshed, for the able EMT and medical staff who worked like champions on the battle field. I am proud of our Mayor, Sheriff and others who, when faced with the dark side of human behavior, showed valor and weighted judgement. I respect the response from the head trauma surgeon who, when prodded by reporters, said "I am not a politician; I am a public servant." A huge sigh came from my chest when he said that: here was a moment when the distinction between the two was appropriately stated and emphasized.

Later in the day today, Mark and I went to see the movie, "Social Network." I don't doubt that many moviegoers found entertainment from this story but I almost walked out--something I rarely do in a movie. For me,there was a disturbingly dark quality to almost all of the (predominantly male) characters. It reminded me of the movie "Inception" in the way the male ego drove the characters' behaviors like a battering ram into one amoral scene after another. The script sparkled with intelligence but it also was a dead intelligenge, smarts without soul. And that reminded me of the emerging story of the alleged killer of this weekend's tragedy. Here was another young man, searching for a place in an unkind world, shaped by forces we have yet and may never understand, and he forged ahead with his wild mind. He was aided by gun sellers and a negligent community that has no safety net for the mentally ill who function on the margins---most of the time.

As one of the commentators yesterday on MSNBC, Eugene Robinson said yesterday, "We are all responsible for what happened in Tucson." He meant, I think, when we don't listen to someone we disagree with, when we let our egos drive us into choices where "I win, you lose", when we ignore the silent dying of the mentally ill among us--we, also, are part of the tragedy in Tucson.

My community of Tucson is not a perfect place, but it's not a place where compassion is absent or tolerance is pushed aside by selfishness. My community, like many communities, is a place of mixed livelihoods and neighborhoods; we who live here are tempered by the presence of our mountains,that the hills will long endure past the time and actions of our individual lives.

I am going to turn my eyes toward those mountains ("my eyes lift up..." as the Psalmist said) and take comfort from the pink and lavendar slopes as the January sun sets this Sunday. As time shifts us forward, I believe that healing and hope beckon us like bright stars in the middle of the dark night; we can do better tomorrow and be better people after our sorrow.