“Ideas without action remain ideas, and when that happens, children die.” ~ David Hogg, a student at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School
In the wake of the mass shooting in Parkland, Florida on February 14th, I’m having a great deal of difficulty writing about anything else. Yes, this column is intended to inform and enlighten our readers about the challenges posed by terminal illness. But it seems to me that the epidemic of gun deaths in this country constitutes a “terminal illness” of the worst sort. A cruel and indiscriminate killer, gun violence touches all of us in some way. It is everywhere: on our city streets, at movie theaters, at concerts, in our churches, in our homes. And, perhaps most tragically, it is in our schools.
In 2016, FBI statistics showed that 141 people, most of them children, have died by gun violence in U.S. schools since the Columbine massacre in 1999. In 2016 and 2017, there were 21 school shootings, and seven children were killed. As of this writing, 2018 has already given us eight school shootings that resulted in injury or death, and 20 more children have died.
And yet, school shootings represent just a small percentage of the increasing numbers of mass shootings in the United States. Since 2005, at least two dozen gunmen have opened fire in public spaces somewhere in our country, killing nearly 325.
Nor are mass shootings our only problem, or even our most pressing problem. Mass shootings are sensationalized in the press, and the sight of devastated families torn apart by grief prompts public outrage and broken hearts. But for every drama played out on the national news, there are thousands more lives snuffed out by gun violence every day. In 2016, 38,000 Americans died from gunshot wounds, about 5,000 more than in 2015. Two thirds of these deaths were suicides, a percentage that translates to 23,000 people who died by their own hand. Many of them would not have been able to complete their suicide had they not had access to a gun.
These numbers might be less disturbing if they were shared by other developed nations, but they’re not. Cancer, the number two cause of death in the United States, claims about as many lives in other countries as it does here. And our No. 1 killer, heart disease, is also the leading cause of death globally. But not so with gun violence. According to data published in the American Journal of Medicine in 2016, Americans are 10 times more likely to be killed by gunfire than citizens of 22 other developed nations. Our gun homicide rate is 25 times that of those countries, and our gun suicide rate is eight times as high. Perhaps most tragically, homicide is the second leading cause of death, and suicide the third leading cause of death in kids between the ages of 15 and 24 who live in the United States.
If this doesn’t constitute a rapidly spreading terminal illness and a public health crisis of astronomical proportions, I don’t know what does.
Not a Political Issue
Gun violence is not a political issue, or at least it shouldn’t be. The endless arguments about the roles played by mental illness, drug addiction, poverty and social injustice are interesting debates. But they have become polarizing and divisive — a distraction from the need for our country to come together and act. When automobile deaths peaked in the 1970s and 1980s, public health advocates and communities across the nation united and demanded safer cars. The auto industry fought them tooth and nail, but in the end, reason won out. In 1984, seat belts became mandatory in all new cars, followed by mandatory driver’s side airbags in 1989. Since then, hundreds of thousands of lives have been saved, and the rate of automobile fatalities has been cut almost in half.
Similarly, a united response to the AIDS epidemic in the latter part of the 20th century cut the number of new cases of HIV/AIDS in the U.S. by more than two thirds. And thanks to continued public pressure and a united response, nearly 1.5 million Americans who are infected with HIV are now living healthy, productive lives.
I admit don’t have the answers to the growing epidemic of gun violence. I wish I did. But what I do know with certainty is that it’s time to stop hiding behind political ideology and admit that we are losing ground. If an unknown virus was killing over 100 Americans every day, we wouldn’t waste time arguing about whose fault it was. We would work together and demand that policymakers find a solution before more people died. And that is exactly what we need to do now.
“This shouldn’t be a fight between two different parties. This should be a coming together where we all realize that something is wrong.” ~ Isabelle Robinson, a senior at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School
Note: To learn about one doctor’s amazing approach to curbing violence, listen to Dr. Gary Slutkin’s 2013 TED talk, “Let’s Treat Violence Like a Contagious Disease.”
About Kathleen
Each month Kathleen Clohessy, R.N., offers a new perspective on living with a terminal illness. Kathleen comes to SevenPonds with 25 years experience as a registered nurse caring for families and children facing life-threatening illness. She began her career in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit at Nassau County Medical Center in New York. After relocating to California, she spent 15 years as an R.N. and Assistant Nurse Manager at the Pediatric Oncology & Bone Marrow Transplant Unit at Lucille Salter Packard Children’s Hospital at Stanford. She uses her knowledge and expertise to enlighten our readers about the challenges associated with chronic illness and its effects on family relationships.