by Martha A. Dean
An attorney practicing in Hartford, CT
Originally published in the Connecticut Law Tribune
Reprinted with Permission
Submitted by Robert Kuhn
October 10, 2001

Prior to September 11, lunchtime conversations with a fellow attorney led to little agreement on issues of the day. Of course, agreement is not necessary or even helpful if the purpose is to have a vigorous debate -- but such differences in perspective can wear over time on even the best friendships. This day, it was the Second Amendment. She argued against the right to personal gun ownership, claiming that the Constitution provides only the right to raise an army. I said, if invaded, I could not imagine counting on the government for my defense, and I would take comfort in owning weapons. With warmth, but a "now dear" tone, she replied, "we live in a country that is safe and secure, and there is no need to have personal weapons. Individual gun ownership should be banned because of the potential for misuse."

One measure of the magnitude of the impact of the September 11 terrorist attacks on our culture is that, today, this same friend -- for whom no government program seemed too large or intrusive -- appears to be rethinking some of her past positions. Incredibly, yesterday, another attorney friend, a suburban wife and mother of two young children, announced that she is learning to shoot and is buying at least one gun. The press is reporting a large upswing in the sale of guns, camping stoves, etc. in this part of the Nation. What has happened?

Here in the Northeast, the vast majority of us were raised in suburbia. In relatively safe and civilized communities, we were not taught to be self-reliant. We learned to count on government to protect us and to trust in the media and public officials for the information needed to understand the world. Many of us believed the message that guns are bad, and that they cause violence. Many of us aligned ourselves with politicians who adopted anti-gun policies (despite the hard facts) thereby appearing "caring" and "child-oriented." And suddenly on September 11 the messages that few seemed to have previously understood were delivered with great force:�

"FREEDOM IS NEVER SAFE,"�

"ANYTHING CAN BE TURNED INTO A WEAPON -- IT DOESN'T TAKE A GUN,"�

"THE GOVERNMENT CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SECURITY."

Prior to the attacks, we wondered: what is it that accounts for the pronounced split in our nation between "Bush states" and "Gore states?" Surely it's a culture clash -- but over what? To one coming from a more rural state, the clash has always appeared to be between the culture of "I can do it myself; I am a survivor -- and, if not, I trust in God" versus the culture of "I am not sure whether I can do it -- or even if I must do it -- and, if I can't, I trust in government." September 11 seems to have altered this dichotomy. Suddenly, Americans seem to know that their very survival depends on first-hand information (copies of the Koran are reportedly selling like hot cakes). And, belatedly, Americans have turned to learning "can-do" survival skills. This is a big change in a part of the country where negotiating office politics and complex government programs have long been the most serious tests of survival.

Raised in a rural part of the Northeast, owning a gun has always seemed natural and necessary. My friends and I were taught as children to find the correct place between the eyes of a horse to shoot it if it broke a leg. I was taught, along with my siblings and cousins, how to hit a target with a pistol out by the big pond behind my grandfather's house. This was all part of an upbringing by a family that imparted a healthy dose of survivalism: take off your clothes and get into a sleeping bag to warm someone suffering severely from the cold. Carry a compass, whistle, rope, and knife when hiking. Put the chain of the lead shank over the nose of a frisky horse and give it a good, precautionary yank before opening the pasture gate. It was common sense � how to survive, how to avoid getting hurt, how to help those who get hurt, how to put an animal out of its misery.

Earlier this year at a Connecticut Bar Association conference breakout session on the lack of civility in the legal profession, I was struck by an impression that we are becoming increasingly impractical and weak in dealing with adversity. Several young attorneys complained about harassing deposition tactics and intimidating partners. I listened to the suggestions offered by the panel, but it seemed that a very different message was needed: no coddling, just teach them that getting bucked off and getting back on is part of the process. Some horses are nice, others are nasty; riders who want to live a long time learn to avoid or control the nasty ones. Develop these skills while you are young and flexible. Learn how to fall and roll, and how to control, or how to at least survive dealing with, forces much larger and stronger than yourself. These lessons are transferable to life. Don't whine. Figure out what skills and tools you need to be prepared to survive and get them -- even if it means buying a gun.

It seems that the events of September 11 have impressed on many people the importance of learning these practical lessons. If we as a Nation learn them, September 11 will have made us a stronger, more resourceful -- and more culturally united -- people. This would be a powerful outcome indeed.