“A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic.”

That quote has been attributed to Joseph Stalin, though variations of it apparently have been around for a long time.

It’s a loaded quote, even putting aside that it may have been spoken by a dictator who killed millions of his own citizens.

It reflects the reality that once you move past individual stories and start aggregating death in larger numbers, we lose sight of the awfulness that violence wreaks on the individual level.  This is not something restricted to dictators — most people are more swayed by individual stories.  News and media and everyone base everything off of this.

The Winter Olympics are on right now — we are flooded with back stories of individual athletes — our imagination is captured by the details of one person.  Team sports — to the extent we have those in the Winter Olympics — are pushed to the background.  I assume we have a hockey team, but given the lack of NHL players  NBC can individually highlight, all I’ve seen on NBC is a single 30 second highlight of their recent loss.

This trend is now happening to smaller and smaller numbers — individual tragedies are being swept up into statistics of a larger trend.  I am of course talking about gun violence.

The Onion — Not A Laughing Matter

Families are again grieving as nearly twenty people were murdered in a school shooting in Florida.  As The Onion headline repeatedly states, “‘No Way To Prevent This’, Says Only Nation Where This Regularly Happens.”

The “politicizing” of this event is happening faster than ever before — before you slam the “leftist liberals” for doing so, it’s being politicized equally on both sides.

Frankly — I am glad it is happening, because #ThoughtsAndPrayers aren’t helping.  That does not mean I empathize less than others.  Unlike most gun owners, I have personal experience with gun violence, despite not owning a gun.

As a pediatric emergency medicine doctor in a city with a high level of gun violence, I likely have more personal experience with victims of gun violence than those who write the laws.

I’ve had to be the doctor who told a mother her young child died from a gunshot.

I’ve seen a child’s chest cracked open in the trauma bay in a valiant, but ultimately futile attempt, by a trauma surgeon trying to save a young child who was shot in the chest.

I’ve seen a teenager struggle to breath because a bullet injured his trachea.

I’ve provided care to many young and old children who were victims of gun violence.  Fortunately, most have survived (physically).

Yet the exposure to violence in my own town does not compare to the experiences of families and friends of those who lost loved ones in shootings from Newton to Parkland have experienced.

So let me implore you — let’s not debate whether guns, in their current status in our society, are making this a better or safer country.

Yes, individual gun ownership is part of the reason this country exists, and some level of firearm ownership is enshrined in our Constitution.

Both the individual stories and the statistics make it clear: while there are many gun owners who are responsible with their firearms, this country currently suffers far more harm from guns than it receives in benefits.

An individual gun owner who hunts responsibly may not feel compelled to give a gun because of a school shooting 2000 miles away, but that is somewhat irrelevant to me at the moment.

What’s The Question?

I would rather ask the question I posed in the title.  Who should die for our rights?  How many should die?  Which rights should they die for?

When people serve in the military, we often thank them for their service and their sacrifice.  Many knowingly and willingly put themselves in harm’s way.

Though not every 18-year-old is thinking of the Bill of Rights when they sign up to go to Afghanistan, ultimately that is part of their job.  They do not want to die, but many of them have knowingly put themselves in a position where that may happen.

Our law enforcement officers in this country are in the same position — they are upholding and enforcing the law, and unfortunately are at risk of injury or death at times to do so.

When my 8-year old goes to school, he should not be in harm’s way or expected to die because of your rights.  He did not sign up for that.

What about me?  As a father and a husband, I have signed up for it.  I have obligations to protect my family, even if I don’t have a badge or a gun.  Some people choose to have a gun because of that obligation.  Primarily because they are afraid other people with guns may abridge their own rights.

I do not have masterful combat skills that would be of any use (I’m typing this with a broken finger sustained in my old-man rec soccer league), yet I can envision many instances where I would put myself in harm’s way for another, even beyond protecting my own family.

Ultimately, I am willing to die to protect life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  I am not signing up for it, but it’s the most valuable right we have.

But would I would be willing to die to protect the 20th Amendment?  It changes the date the terms of President/VP/Congress begin and end.

Or the 23rd?  It gives the District of Columbia a stake in the Electoral College.

No — I probably won’t march in the streets or stand in front of a gunman for either of those.  The right for women to vote is only a few lines away.  Clearly not all rights are of equal value, not all are held in the same esteem, and all have the potential to be abridged.

We’ve long reached the point where the number of gun deaths is a statistic that people gloss over — we’ve had more school shootings this year than the rest of the world combined.

Elements of our society and government have chosen to prioritize certain rights over others.  In doing so, they’ve chosen to make martyrs of our children and many others.

I am willing to die for many things, but I am not willing to die, or let my children die, for this.