I would write about another school shooting.
The one that happened today, in Sante Fe, Texas. The one that killed ten more kids.
I’d write about that. Again. But it wouldn’t matter. Not one iota.
An Iota is the ninth letter in the Greek Alphabet. It also means “an extremely small amount.” Iota.
After the Parkland shooting, some people thought there would be change.
But. Nothing mattered. Not really.
Oh sure. Some things moved around a bit. Parkland stayed in the news about a week longer than all the other school shootings. Those Parkland kids now carry see-through backpacks. A few teachers in Florida now holster weapons in school. Then the Curse of the Iota. It all went away, and now ten more kids are dead.
People will propose change. Tougher security in schools. Right. Right. Let’s just put them all in SWAT gear – bullet proof vests, and helmets, and armored backpacks, and send them off to learn their ABCs. That will help.
Band-aids. The Shell Game. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.
I’d write about that, again. But it would be a waste.
The man behind the curtain is still there.
White men with guns, religion, and money continue to dictate what happens in this country. I wish this would change in my lifetime, but I doubt very much for any transformation in this.
If I sound despondent, it’s because I am.
But I am not going to write about all of that.
Instead, I’ll just talk about me and my iota.
“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
― Anonymous, Holy Bible: King James Version
“You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore.”
― William Faulkner