Never in my life would I have thought I would say "I like to shoot guns." However, I always had a nagging intrigue in what shooting one would be like. I consider myself a non-violent person, that being said, I had a hard time figuring out how shooting guns could be negotiated as non-violent.
If it feels so wrong, why do it?
My biggest fear of guns is that it puts me in the position to seriously injure or kill someone. My fear isn't so much of being hurt but to have to hurt someone else. A gun is a weapon I have long associated with intense pain, not just physically but the emotional pain people experience by losing loved ones to murder, manslaughter and war. Guns are also a symbol I associate with the politically conservative-minded who in my experience are more concerned with protection and intimidation than taking accountability for the power to take a life that comes with wielding a gun. Despite all this, there still lied a sheer curiosity in what the experience of shooting was like as well as the desire to master the use of an object that holds such power and to take responsibility for that power humanely and confidently. That left only one way to find out.
How will I actually do this?
One night while hanging out with my fellow rape crisis center advocate after our weekly training, our trainer talked about his affinity for shooting rounds off at the gun range. This seemed like a perfect opening to see what the experience would be like. He was more than happy to take a first timer and arrange my transportation. Before I knew it, I was on my way to the gun range.
So...what's it like?
When I first walked in I was a little shaky and sweaty. The bangs of the rounds being fired in the background freaked me out. I was given my "eyes and ears" (protective glasses and ear muffs) and led into the room of lanes where everyone was live firing. Now it was even weirder. Everything was muffled, I had to yell to ask a question. The smell of gun smoke was a little stifling at first and each gun shot made me flinch. I was terrified.
My trainer unpacked the gun gear and showed me the gun I would be starting on. It was a .22 caliber Berretta. I was shown how to load the magazine, pull the safety, proper grip, and aim.
The first time I gripped the gun I held it super tight in hopes my shaky hands would steady a little. My hand were damp and I felt afraid the gun would slip somehow. I picked it up unloaded just to feel it, get used the weight and feel of it in my hands.Then it was time to actually shoot it. I took what felt like an hour just holding the gun forward and aiming before actually letting go and pulling the trigger. I was told to "take deep breath and on the exhale, pull the trigger." I took a breath and let it out and shot. Once I did, I took a few more seconds and shot again. Then I needed a break. I was a little unsettled by the flying shells released by the gun and the small explosion happening right in front of my face.
After watching my trainer shoot off some rounds. I stepped back up for my second try. This time I shot till my magazine emptied. With some help, I reloaded and shot some more. The more I shot, the more I was able to focus on readjusting my grip, stance and aim. I felt more and more present with what I was doing in the moment rather than all the things that could go wrong. A sense of exhilaration and enjoyment slowly washed over my anxiety.
Once the .22 felt comfortable, we moved on to a 9mm. This gun was a little heavier, harder to load and had more kickback. After shooting it once, I needed a break. The hot brass flew closer to my face and body and stung my feet a few times. However, after taking the time to get used to it, I started to appreciate the extra fire power. The more fire power the more effort and focus it took to keep the gun steady and adjust my aim with the kickback. I officially like shooting guns.
Why did I really do it?
On the surface, learning to use a firearm seems simply a way to toughen up or feel safer. Those are perfectly valid reason to learn to use a gun. Although, I felt there was something slightly different in my personal reasoning. In a sense I wanted to "toughen up", but not in the typical way of intimidation. I had, and still have, no intention of carrying a gun on my person or flashing it to scare someone away. I hold true to the rule "if you're going to pull out a gun, you better use it, and if you're going to use it, shoot to kill." Not to encourage people to kill each other, but by putting this grave a condition on gun use makes it real and makes the user think about how and when to use it. My purpose was to gain a sense of mastery and a sense of self control. The gun can fire bullets only when someone pulls the trigger. It is up to its wielder to choose. The empowerment is in the choice, not in the intimidation.
How is all this related to who I am in the world and what I think about it?
This experience not only related to my self confidence in general but to my experience as a woman. How I have been told not to express anger and to focus on making other people feel better rather than feeling better myself, and knowing I am not alone in feeling the weight of these social obligations. Its not that women don't have plenty of strength, physical or otherwise, its the conditioning of being told never to use it, especially not to protect ourselves because that is something a man will do for you. Specifically with a weapon like a gun that is a symbol of a man's masculinity and power. The problem is, men are not protecting us all the time. They are often the people we need to protect ourselves against. This is not coming from an irrational man-hating feminist perspective. Its based on personal accounts, research and statistics. Men sadly but honestly, make up the majority of perpetrators and criminals in general.
That does not mean women are not capable of crime, it does not mean every man I come in contact with is a potential enemy. It just means there is a dark reality of how society has not only allowed men to behave this way but enables and even encourages it. However, as many perpetrators are out there, there are men willing to stand to empower us. There are those willing to take responsibility for the power they have and use it to make us equals. It is not all hopeless, and, its also important to understand the system that binds us and segregates us in order to change it.
What do I really get out of it and where do I go from here?
Power and privilege dynamics aside, the physical sensation of shooting a gun felt oddly natural to me. It put me in a frame of mind to be more assertive and ask for what I need and want. The same week of my first shooting experience, I signed up for and Aikido class, asked for a due raise, and was more confident in my counseling skills at my rape crisis training class. Self defense isn't just about kicking ass, although it is about having the ability to kick ass. The ability is what makes me feel I am on equal ground as a person of larger stature than me, or has more societal or relational authority. I have told a total of about 3 people that I've gone shooting. I didn't post it on Facebook, I didn't call or text everyone in my cell phone about it. I also didn't join the NRA or immediately buy my own pistol. Shooting was not just a whim, it was an investment. I plan on continuing to shoot. The more I improve on my aim the more my confidence in my abilities in general increases. I have also learned more about self defense in general since I've started shooting than I ever knew before. The experience has offered me a sense of freedom to interact with different people and feel less tense walking around certain places at certain times. So far, a little personal freedom has gone a long way.
