The rotten core of gun violence in America

As I was leaving this year’s Super Bowl parade in Kansas City, I debated whether to attend the rally afterward. Because I had gone to the rally last year, I stopped by my house to see my mom and watch the parade coverage on the local news.

In the hours that followed, I watched in numbed horror as a space of joy and celebration, one I had just been a part of, devolved into panicked chaos. Multiple people exchanged gunfire, wounding several and killing Lisa Lopez-Galvan, a local mother and DJ.

I received multiple messages from friends asking if I was safe and alive. I want to say I couldn’t have ever fathomed receiving such messages, but I had fully anticipated it to happen at some point in my life. I expect to receive more at some point in the future.

The community conversations that followed served as the next iteration of the same tired conversation about this crisis we have been having for years. Some blamed it on the guns and their defenders; others blamed it on gangs and stupid choices; others still blamed it on mental illness, and so on.