The first time I saw a gun out of context was in the inner city of Richmond, Virginia, with a bunch of teenagers from our Church.
I grew up in a hunting family. We had guns.
Not pistols, but long guns — rifles and shotguns. The kind legitimately used for hunting and practice (skeet, target, etc). My dad diligently taught my brother and me to respect and safely use, handle, care for, transport, and store guns. Safety was king.
We treated the gun respectfully, not only in our family but also in our hunting community. At hunting camp, we had a moment — the moment everyone unveiled the guns. It always occurred directly before we set out into the field or woods. Not too soon, and never were guns sitting around. Upon return, each person immediately secured their gun.
This system of operation around guns provided my context for what they are, how to use them, and how to handle them.
Which brings me to Richmond in the late 90s and how my context surrounding guns completely blew up.
