John,
To my children, Newtown is a magical place—a place to visit their family, walk in the woods, and play until the sun sets below the treeline. A place for opening presents and enjoying a special birthday dinner. A place to pick apples in the sunshine and play games in front of the fire. But as I watch them enjoy the town that I grew up in and love so much, I wonder how long it will be before they hear about what happened here.
My son is now the same age as the 20 children whose lives were senselessly taken at Sandy Hook Elementary School along with six educators. He has already practiced lockdown drills and experienced what it's like to shelter in place. Like the brave educators in Sandy Hook, his teachers do everything in their power to make these drills feel normal. But when he comes home and tells me about them, I can’t help but think: How much longer until he knows what they're really practicing for?
Many of us who grew up in Newtown ask ourselves this question. Because while it's been 12 years since that horrific day, it doesn’t feel far away at all. I still see the pained looks, the uncomfortable pause, when I tell someone where I’m from. I still struggle to find words for my anger and my grief. I still struggle to understand how anyone could watch what happened in my hometown and not immediately act to ensure it could never happen again.
Twelve years later, I'm angry that the shooting that devastated my community didn't immediately lead to stronger gun safety laws. I'm heartbroken that 26 families have missed out on more than a decade of memories with their loved ones. I'm angry at those who say nothing can change. But most of all, I'm furious at those who want to take us backwards in our fight for gun safety.
Yet I refuse to feel hopeless and helpless. Instead, I let my anger and grief fuel me in this fight. Because our children deserve better than hiding in closets and sending frantic texts saying goodbye to loved ones. Our educators deserve better than wondering if any given day at the job they love will be their last day on Earth. And we deserve better than the cynicism, greed, and indifference shown by the gun industry, the gun lobby and the politicians who spread their lies.
So in honor of Newtown and all of the communities impacted by gun violence, join me in choosing hope. It's a radical act at a time when others want us to feel powerless and afraid. But as so many courageous survivors of gun violence have shown us, we must choose hope again and again and again. Because giving up when people's lives are on the line simply isn't an option.
John, we can't give up hope that an America free from gun violence is possible. Join me in taking the pledge and recommitting yourself to this urgent fight in the coming year.
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We know the coming years will be tough. But together, the 10 million of us in this movement are tougher. We refuse to let anyone take away the progress we've made at the federal, state, and local levels. And we refuse to accept a world in which people fear for their lives in the places they learn, work, worship, and celebrate.
On December 14, 2012, the world watched in anguish as Newtown became synonymous with heartbreak. But we also became a beacon of hope—hope that a safer future is possible, and hope that a group of committed citizens can change the course of history when they refuse to give up. We won't let anyone take that hope away from us.
I will do everything in my power to keep it from happening again. Will you join me? Sign the pledge to take action in 2025.
Thank you for choosing hope with us. Our work has never been more important or more urgent, and together, I know that we can keep saving lives.
Kaelyn Forde
Associate Director of Field and Volunteer Communications
Moms Demand Action
