Essay Workshop 2-Rough Draft

Barbara Hough-Sisson

Lauren Servais

English 100

10-7-2010

"Shooting Dads"

I can relate to Sarah Vowell’s, “Shooting Dad”, writing.  As I read,  I felt like Sarah, I was  not entirely a stranger to firearms. I grew up primarily on a ranch with my dad as a rancher and hunter.  He had rifles, shotguns and a love of guns.  I understand when she says, “Her parent’s house was the United States of firearms”.  This is how my family home was. Growing up I was conditioned by my father to have a fear of guns even though he had a passion for them.

As a young child I recognized guns as deadly weapons.  There were many dead, stuffed animals placed on our walls in our family home that were considered trophies too many.  Not to me.  This was a very unsettling vision that I saw every day of my childhood. I, as Sarah, did not understand why people would want to hunt and kill such beautiful creatures even though it put food on our table.  Guns and hunting were a very important source of food for us.

At a young age I felt my dad would sell me before selling a gun.  Guns were his life.   I can remember them being in many corners of our home, loaded.  His eternal freedom depended on how many firearms he had.  He also had a gun room; my sister and I were not allowed to go in there even though my brothers could.  I did not want to enter this scary place, but I did not understand why some genders were allowed and some not.   

Guns and hunting were my dad’s sport, passion and excitement.  I understand this is no different than golf or tennis, but it sure felt different, it was scary.  I did not understand that guns could be collector items.   They were used to kill animals to put meat on the table.  I did not understand how something that can hurt animals or people would be exciting or a hobby.  I now know normal law abiding folks don’t need gun regulations, and the criminals don’t really care or they redefine law to their template when it comes to guns.  

My dad’s hobby was his world. I would day dream about what it would be like to take a family vacation instead of my dad purchasing another gun or hunting trip.  I wish I had a memory of my family on an adventure together.

I understand his hobby provided an oasis like experience in the desert of his life and this was his escape from monotony, but I still felt angry about it.  I realized how excited dad would get about guns; I wanted him to be as excited about me, his daughter.

 In my younger years I considered what my dad had taught me, and I decided that owing a gun was simply not worth it. I did not want to live in fear. I realized that when a gun speaks, what  comes out of its mouth is an expression of anger, sometimes intentional but nonetheless anger. When my dad would come home from hunting trips I would always want my picture with my dad’s dead animals because then I felt like I was part of his team. 

 I was spending my life trying to live up to his expectations, wanting him to accept me, and this was very upsetting, but I finally broke free. 

Don’t get me wrong, I do not think of my dad or a gun collector as a bad person, but I was like Sarah, I did not like guns.  I had no use for them.  I broke free by learning to accept my dad for who he was, and understanding that his love for guns and hunting was part of his heritage.  I will always remember when my dad was out and about on the ranch he carried a small .22 caliber pistol on his belt in case he stumbled upon a coyote bothering his sheep, same as his father.  He had shotguns of various gauges to shoot springing quail or wild duck and rifles to pop off a deer or more so, it just made himself feel good to have a gun with him, more powerful. 

When I was young, (many years ago), there was a big difference between how many men versus how many women had guns as a hobby. For whatever reason, I am not sure, but that has changed.  I hear and know many more females who enjoy owning and shooting guns.   

I felt having guns in the home growing up made it less safe, my dad thought the opposite.  I would fear that if someone broke into our house, guns everywhere, loaded, we would be shot.  I know now that my dad had the guns in place to protect us. 

I, like Sarah shot a gun very few times.  I thought my dad was disappointed in me at times because I did not have the same passion as he did.  I didn’t like the feel of a gun in my hands, the power they held or the sound they made.

As I grew older Sarah and I had the same thought, when suitors came by the house it was cool to say that my dad was enthusiastic about guns. Boys like guns. So, when I was older I started to appreciate guns more.  I did understand they were needed to keep food on the table and they were used for reasons other than tragedy and death. 

In my late teens I passed the hunters safety course because I knew how much it would mean to my dad.  I wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted to be part of his world.  I have never used the hunting license, but I heard him tell friends that his oldest daughter passed the hunter safety course.  That was worth it to me. 

My dad and I, like Sarah and her dad, became friends once we appreciated each other for who we were.   As I think I’ve already established, I really don’t even like the ideas of guns, and would greatly prefer that I never own one, but I have come to appreciate that guns are part of who my dad is. 

Most often than not, every member of the family doesn’t have the same hobby.  Respecting differences in people is part of life. I understand Sarah wishing her dad understood her passion for music, I wanted my dad to understand my hobbies and passions, some of which included, family vacations,  hanging out with friends and in my teen years, boys, not guns.

I guess I am a little conflicted about all of this. Yes, my view on guns has changed to the extent over the years  basically as seeing them irrelevant in my life and not something I really want to deal, with but it seems like the right thing to do to be my dad’s daughter.  I can’t say my dad’s ashes will be blown out of a cannon, like Sarah’s, because he does not own a cannon, but if he did, he would probably like his ashes strewn all over.