In the early hours of Tuesday morning I was awoken by the ringing of my phone. At first I thought I was dreaming but the repetitive rings had that eerie sense of urgency. I answered the phone and was given the following news: My 17 year old brother-in-law was shot point blank in the stomach. His chances of survival were next to none. The shooter was also a teenager; age 16. I sat there unable to move as if someone had just unplugged me.

Over the next 48 hours, I would become witness to unbelievable pain and suffering. I'd also witness unwavering love and support for a young man who needed a miracle...one that he would receive.

In a time where violence is glorified; where hip hop stars boast of the number of bullets that have pierced their flesh; where the top selling video games are about robbing and murder; where the military markets war to young men and women; I am here to tell you that there is absolutely no glory in what happened to my brother-in-law. This act of violence can only be described as gruesome and horrendously painful.

Picture a young man's chest and stomach opened to the world. His body swollen, no longer a young athletic dynamo but a near lifeless shell. Blood soaked the sheets of his hospital bed. The faces of his family contorted with agony, with the thought that they would lose their beloved brother and son. There is absolutely no glory in this whatsoever.

How could this have happened? This is the question that surfaces in a sea of sadness. The answer is undoubtedly complex. Lack of family support and guidance for the young offender. The apparent ease of acquiring a gun. The glorification of violence in our media. All of these precipitated this terrible act.

It is important to reiterate that this is not a story of urban youth and gangland retribution. This tragedy happened to middle-class teens in a "nice" neighbourhood. There is no hiding from this. No one is immune from this social illness. No amount of money nor distance from a city can protect you or the ones you love. As a witness to this tragic event, I am asking you, no, begging you to act...now. Don't support media that glorifies murder. Talk to your political representatives about gun laws. More importantly, hold them accountable. Support programs that give youth positive outlets to express themselves. Most importantly, talk to young people. The stakes are way too high not to.

I decided to include a spoken word piece along with this post. If you like it, please pass it along and ask that the person retell this story. Fortunately, this story had a happy ending. I shudder at how easily it could have gone the other way. Such was the case for another teen shot that very same night.


The Games Our Children Play (aka The Evolution)

Bitch!
Bitch? Who you callin' bitch? Bitch!!

It used to be about cops and robbers
It used to be about cowboys and indians (Native Americans, First Nations)
And now out of the mouths of babes comes,"Keepin' it real."
Very live
extremely direct
In the absence of thought
violence takes root in the mind

Punk!
Punk?
Why'd you hit my brother, punk?
I didn't touch your brother, punk!!!

The slap/crack of flesh against bone against flesh
The sound of young hands wielding misguided manhood
Look ma! Check my new skillz (creating conflict)
Small hands sometimes
kill
while shattering illusions of being a man
And in a puddle of salty tears
violence
begins to grow in the heart

Fuck you!
Fuck me? Fuck you!!

A drive-by
A Columbine High
A nation left to ponder why
But we know why

And yet it's so easy to blame technology
Let's just...
"Get the guns off the street."
Let's just...
"Place metal detectors in our children's schools."
Let's just...Face reality
It's time to redefine our sense of
community

Scientists say,
"evolution"
is a result of changes within our environment
They say
that which is unnecessary
is rendered obsolete
Violence
can be rendered obsolete
But only if
our communities change
the games our children play