Well readers, there is so much more I want to write about eventually regarding my new Celiac Disease diagnosis mentioned in the previous post. Navigating this river has been an interesting journey, complete with wonderful experiences, funny moments, unexpected surprises, and so far only one melt-down. But for this post, I thought I would take a break from feeling sorry for myself to talk about people recently who have found themselves in a sandbar so awful that it almost makes me ashamed to be mournful about my Celiac diagnosis. There are in fact things that are much, much worse. Like going out for what you anticipate to be a fun date, the midnight opening of another Batman movie, never imagining that you or your partner wouldn’t leave that theater alive. Or being a family just going to their usual worship service on a peaceful Sunday, perhaps thinking that after worship, they would enjoy dinner on the grill or a walk in a park, but instead finding themselves in a hospital in critical condition, or planning a funeral for the senseless death of a loved one.
The movie theater shooting in Aurora, Colorado happened two days after my Celiac diagnosis. Mom had Good Morning America on and told me about it when I came downstairs, but I was so self-absorbed in getting used to eating gluten-free bagels which have a different texture than “regular” bagels and realizing once more that this whole Celiac thing wasn’t a dream–it was my reality, for the rest of my life–that I didn’t grasp the magnitude of this shooting until the evening news. As I was watching the evening news, I decided that I would make it a point to keep things in perspective and ensure that my conscience never got wrapped up in such trivial roadblocks, which Celiac really is in the grand scheme of life. I never imagined I would have to put this in to practice so soon, that another senseless shooting would hit so close to home (Oak Creek is just a half hour drive from where I live), or that in America in the year 2012, people were still being targeted because of their religion. But from that day forward, I have found myself savoring the not-quite-as-tasty gluten-free bread when I realized that just across town, there were nine families who would likely give anything for a life where Celiac Disease was their only source of hardship.
It is only by the grace of God that you or I have never, and hopefully will never face such a tragic, senseless sandbar. My mom and I had just gotten back from worship ourselves when we heard about the shooting at the Sikh Temple. As if there was no doubt that our worship would be peaceful and safe and we would get home alive, we made plans that morning to throw sausages and vegetables on the grill and enjoy a beautiful Sunday at home as a family. Those Sikh families across town were probably just as casual as we were in making Sunday afternoon plans. In America, houses of worship are sacred and safe, after all. At our church, nothing happened and we returned home as always and put our sausages on the grill as we watched the local news coverage. But just across town, a whole faith community never got to enjoy that Sunday afternoon, and six families will never get another Sunday afternoon with their loved ones again. The Sikh people may speak a different language and have different beliefs, but when you get right down to it, they are no different than Christians. Their faith teaches love, compassion, service to those in need, virtues that Christianity emphasizes as well. They just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. What’s to say next time, it won’t be us?
These recent shootings also reminded me of an incident in college I had put out of my mind but will never forget. One day in the spring semester of my freshman year of college, I walked in to another Introduction to News Writing class, as I had done every Monday and Thursday at 4:00 all semester. Nothing had ever happened in all my years of school, so I am sure as I waited for the professor to start class, my mind was wandering to what we would have for dinner that evening and what evening homework I needed to do. But that day, a troubled student got in to an argument with the professor in front of the class. Since she was causing a scene and a guest speaker was expected shortly, the student was asked to wait until after class to continue the argument. I didn’t hear it because I didn’t sit near the student, but the next time our class met, campus security was standing outside the door. Another student sitting near this troubled student reported to the professor that this student had muttered under their breath, “this is how things like Virginia Tech happen.”
Fortunately, another Virginia Tech didn’t happen in that news writing class. I don’t know how the situation was ultimately resolved with this student. This student never came to class again, nor have I heard anything about this student since. But even though nothing happened, it was an incident I will never forget because something could have. It is so easy to think that nothing could ever happen at my warm friendly college/church/theater/community, but unfortunately as long as there are guns everywhere and troubled people in the world not getting the help they need, Virginia Tech/the Sikh Temple/the Aurora, Colorado theater shootings could happen anywhere.
As is always the case, time will pass, and as it does, the memory of these recent shootings will fade, at least for those of us who don’t know any of the victims. But I hope that say, a year from now if I find myself stuck in a restaurant with no gluten-free options, that instead of sobbing because I am tired and hungry and the restaurant isn’t accommodating, I might think back to these shootings, hug any loved ones at the table with me and realize there are much worse things to be sobbing about.
Gilbert and Me 