"When I Shot A Gun, I Did Not Feel Like Charlie's Angels"

With an uncomfortable 10 pounds cutting into my back, a small piece of printer paper to aim at and the sheer power of grasping a loaded weapon, I can’t say shooting a gun is a joyful feeling. Terrifying is what it is.As a 14-year-old at summer camp in Colorado, I planned to avoid the rifle range activity because for one, I didn’t want to traumatize my parents with the daily pictures the counselors posted, and two, the concept of me, an innocent in-coming freshman, shooting a gun didn’t make sense. But then all my friends signed up for the rifle range, and not wanting to be left alone in the four-foot deep pool, I decided to “tag along.”I’ll admit I did a little more than tagging along. If you’re imagining yourself shooting a gun, the first thing you must know is that you shouldn’t plan on looking like Cameron Diaz from Charlie’s Angels. You will not be wearing a tight black leather suit. You will be holding a bulky rifle instead of a small pistol and will be about 15 years younger (meaning well into your awkward phase and not nearly as attractive as Ms. Diaz in her prime). And you also shouldn’t plan on being very good at it, especially when your target is a small square of paper.  At the shooting range, we were allowed to draw anything except, shockingly, humans on our paper. I, for whatever reason, drew a dishwasher. I also managed to get a single bullet hole, out of the 20 or so bullets I shot, through the edge of my target.Holding a gun is a very foreign feeling. It wasn’t just 10 pounds propped against my shoulder. To know that these 10 pounds were powerful enough to take a life made them weigh a million more. The amount of power that was in my very own hands was horrifying and incomprehensible. All my life I was a sweet, young girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, and now…I must admit I did feel a bit badass, especially with the fresh imprint of a steaming hot bullet that I had accidently laid on, branded onto my stomach, yet I mostly felt uncomfortable to be so far out of my comfort zone.With crayons and paper scattered all over the floor, you’d think it was classroom. With kids laughing and their terribly missed aim you’d think it was a jungle gym. The laughs, however, came from the mouths of children, ages 12 and up, holding guns. **A Batman movie opening in the theater, a shopping day at the mall, and another day of elementary school were all days predicted to be full of innocence, maybe a slight thrill, and laughs. They were moments, hours, days meant to be having fun, meant to be enjoyed just like these campers were enjoying shooting guns.It was just another game. Except it wasn’t. It was the most innocent form of a life threatening sport. Being in the wilderness of Colorado, one of the most Pro-Gun states in the country, and shooting at pieces of paper, the circumstances of shooting a gun seemed acceptable. Having the freedom to take a weapon of similar power to the streets, to school, to theaters, to offices is another story, and one that I condemn.I can’t say that I learned a whole lot from shooting a gun. I most likely wouldn’t do it again. I am glad that I had the experience because for one, I learned that it really isn’t as easy as it may seem, whether it’s making the physical target or pulling the trigger, and two, I gained a lovely scar that is a daily reminder that having an incredible amount of power is absolutely terrifying, even in the right hands.

 abiraben@thesamohi.com