I know my story is similar to many others in the Whitney/Strong circle—I got a call from a friend one morning at work, asking if I knew about Whitney. I then joined the expanding concentric circles of concern, sitting paralyzed at my desk waiting for updates, watching press conferences, and just crying.
I also shared the overwhelming feelings of both fear and helplessness that so many did that day. Now I realize how many others—strangers, yet now members of the same tribe of gun violence victims—face that horrible sequence of events every day. Everyone reading this post knows how Whitney’s story has progressed, and how she was seemingly superpowered by those 12 bullets to take on the challenge of making our world safer. But every time there is another shooting—mass, domestic, school, whatever—I think about the friends getting calls, sitting paralyzed, waiting for updates, crying, and feeling terrifyingly helpless.
Those circles keep getting larger, expanding further and becoming more impactful with every shooting. Having a loved one shot is awful. It is life changing. It affects the way you see the world around you, the way you see other people, and the way you see yourself. In the case of so many who love Whitney Austin, it changes how we relate to guns.
Even the gun owners among us were suddenly faced on September 6, 2018 with the very cold reality of what a person who could not act responsibly or reasonably with a firearm can do. Every shooting enlightens more people to outcomes of that awful situation. But—the more people join this awful, expanding circle, the more people there are who want to see change. Whitney/Strong is living proof—a young organization fed by the energy, dollars, and spirit of people personally rocked by gun violence tearing into their world and vowing to prevent that violence from continuing to grow unchecked.
I am immeasurably grateful that my dear friend is still here, that I can still wave to her in the school carpool line, still text to see what she’s up to this weekend, and still call to confirm our morning walks. I’m even more grateful that she’s also now my friend who I can join on a plane to D.C. to introduce Whitney/Strong to legislators, can text to say “Good luck today!” when she’s got a speaking engagement, and can see regularly at board meetings to talk about Whitney/Strong wins. Not everyone is so lucky; not everyone’s day of getting that call turns out with prayers of thanks for survival. But the more of those calls get made, the more people are transformed into agents of change. And Whitney/Strong is here to welcome them, and provide a way to cure the helplessness.