A Warm, Fuzzy Feeling

And it's not from Hallmark.

In all my years of shooting and instruction thereof, one particular niche gives me more pleasure than even shooting a perfect competition score.

Teaching women to shoot.

No, don't let your mind go on a gutterslide on that one. I'm being serious here.

The fact that providing such instruction has become one of my favorite shooting pasttimes should be readily evident to anyone who is well versed in the art of the gun.

We who are accustomed to the use, carriage, operation and (hopefully, accurate) shooting of firearms have, it seems to me, a special insight into some of the core-nature of the human animal.

Life, death and the decisions related thereto. Fortunately for me, in almost five years of carrying a gun behind the badge, I never had to let a hammer drop onto a live round. Three times in those years though, that decision was made over the sights of a drawn weapon. I'm thankful that in each instance, the goblin in question attained an instant deeper insight, and surrendered accordingly.

So, I know the responsibility that being armed entails. That part has to be woven through every bit of the instruction process. But I digress.

The most incredible metamorphisis occurs when a lady who has feared guns all of her life, learns to shoot. Within a few brief hours, the scales of darkness, of misinformation, myths and fears fall away, and a whole new world opens to them.

They realize that they are truly liberated, and that no man can routinely overpower them through sheer brute force, ever again. They're awakened to the fact that they hold, quite literally, the power of both destiny and demise at once, in their lovely, manicured hands.

For perhaps the first time in their lives, they understand equality. And they will never be subjugated again. Ever.

That's just American women.

How much better would that feeling be, to bring such empowerment to these women?

Aeman Ali, 28 -- not her real name because of fears of reprisals -- said the training had empowered women repressed in Iraqi society.

"I wanted to do the best for my country, that's all. Before I just used to do the cleaning," said Ali, a married mother of four daughters.

"We feel that this gives us (women) a kind of courage that we didn't have before. I have chosen to stay here. My husband's fine, but I have to work at home every morning at 5:00 am."

Challapa said it was the first group of women he had trained in Iraq and that he had seen their confidence grow.

"Before the men were in charge of everything," he said. "This is a new generation and they can't go back."

Serenity has the original find on this gem. If you want to read the entire news article, (and you should!), go read her excellent take on the subject, and follow her link accordingly.

No, I'm not being stingy on bandwidth here. I'm far more maniuplative than that. *heh!*

You'll just have to go visit her excellent blog to see what I mean. I'm confident, you'll enjoy the read.

By the way, she's also one hell of a shooter.

Comments

[Dennis Cottingham]

As you know my wife is afraid of guns and I wait with bated breath for the first time she squeezes the trigger to first her first projectile down range. I'm betting that she falls in love with shooting at that moment. And I will attest to the comments about Serenity's shooting skills. I wouldn't want to piss her off.

[Linda]

I WAS one of these women. I've feared guns my whole life. Now, at the age of 47, I am learning to shoot, and fear guns less, thanks to my GREAT instructor ;)

[Alaska Kim]

I enjoy the sport. My dad bought me a rifle when I was 13 years old. I have lots of memories of going to the shooting range and shooting at cans and targets. Most women in Alaska aren't afraid of guns. You can't be scared of them in bear country.

[Jay G (a.k.a. Guy)]

Linda,

Could you please talk to my wife? :)

Jim,

I didn't know you were a cop. Hat's off to you, even more so than usual. That's the "family biz" for me, although I strayed from it (don't have the temperment for it). It's a thankless job, one that's far too often maligned and far too seldom appreciated.

Salut!