By Kenneth L. Hardin

The military taught me to be overly conscious of time. I’m constantly time stamping interactions and placing constraints on people. When things occur around me, my first instinct is to note the time. If you’re more than 10 minutes past our agreed upon time to meet, I’ll leave. So, it was no surprise that in the wee hours of the morning before the anniversary of 9/11 last week, I noted the time as I sat in front of my computer tapping on the keys for this article. As the clock rested at 12:47 a.m., my head was so filled with specifically random thoughts, it felt similar to a dam nearly overflowing its banks.

My river of ruminations crested because of an awareness of a tsunami wave of atrocious acts directed at children in the past week. I struggled because my predilection for protecting those most vulnerable has no boundaries. I was angry as I slammed my fingers down on the keyboard trying to articulate my thoughts while controlling my rage. When I write or speak on a subject most people cower at and avoid, I do so without fear of reprisal. I am a bit more measured after being sued by business owners years ago when I sat in the city’s high-back chair representing those who elected me to office. I had the courage to call out a business that was designed for kids 13 and under but was a front for more illicit activities after hours. When the married owners came to a city council meeting and threatened to sue me during the public forum for speaking out on their dangerous activities, I calmly shared how little I cared. They went through with an unsuccessful lawsuit, which was ultimately dismissed. I stood firm for what was right in the interest of citizen safety and for the integrity of the child-centered business although I received no support from my other colleagues on the council. When children or citizens’ safety is involved, I will never censor myself or be silent.

In the wake of the former school board candidate and staff member at a local charter school being charged with indecent liberties, I didn’t hold my tongue either when discussing it with a local elected official and numerous concerned citizens who reached out to me. I posted the article from this paper on my social media page and was surprised my commentary didn’t get me a stint in Facebook jail. But I would’ve gladly served the time for sharing how I felt about this cowardly accused purveyor of pedophilia. I’ve had the misfortune of meeting and talking with the accused on several occasions. It saddens me that the charter school’s name had to be mentioned with him. I hope it doesn’t detract from the good they’re accomplishing with the young minds who attend school there. I’m disgusted with anyone who’s in a position of trust over children but violates that responsibility. I worked in corrections in the military and for seven years in the belly of the beast at the state level and saw firsthand how these worthless wastes of humanity were treated. There were times I went blind and deaf in the face of the treatment they so rightly deserved.

On Sept. 4, my phone alerted me that a shooting had taken place at a Georgia high school. I looked down at the Fitbit strapped to my left wrist and noted 12:34 p.m. I have a sad routine now when these repeated incidents of violence occur. I sit in my recliner and scroll through the various news stations for several hours ingesting specifics of the deadly timeline. I stayed on top of the developments for most of the afternoon until I heard an official standing in front of a bank of microphones offer his “thoughts and prayers.” I was done. I’m so disgusted with those who are in a position to enact and affect change acting as if thoughts and prayers somehow bring healing to this ongoing scourge. I threw up a little in my mouth watching Vice President Kamala Harris receive thunderous applause as if she said something meaningful and profound by declaring at a rally in the wake of the shooting, “this doesn’t have to happen.” Really, you think? I was confused as to why people were enthusiastically cosigning this ridiculous and pointless assertion from someone who is actually in a position to ensure it actually doesn’t happen. Clownish characters like her and others do nothing to put an end to this evil. Lawmakers pretend that thoughts and prayers are a Kevlar shield that will protect kids from being massacred while sitting in a classroom. I realized that when no action was taken back in December 2012, after 20 children between the ages of six and seven were killed at the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting in Newtown, Connecticut, thoughts and prayers were the only action elected officials would undertake moving forward. 

In the wake of the shooting, I’ve been more disgusted with the media’s attempt to make us feel sympathy for the killer who took the lives of two teachers and two classmates. I don’t give a good doggone about how bad his family home life was nor his alleged mental health issues. Neither is an excuse to take another innocent person’s life. If more emphasis is put on reducing instances of bullying and harassment while also addressing student mental health issues rather than the inordinate amount of wasted time placed on banning books, eliminating the teaching of everyone’s cultural history, and the needless concern about sexual and gender identity amongst students, maybe there would be no need for the pointless thoughts and prayers.

It’s 2:07 a.m. now. I need to go charge my Fitbit so it’ll be ready for the next school shooting.

Kenneth L. (Kenny) Hardin is a member of the National Association of Black Journalists